Gordita Conspiracy

by Lyle Christie

  Fortunately, I had seen the bulge under his jacket and, having already experienced his menacing glare, was expecting trouble. To that end, I purposefully started a conversation with the gorilla, because it forced him to act before he was ready, and it allowed me to have a plan in place when he reached for his pistol. Unfortunately, he was a big guy with more muscle than me—which meant he had more muscle than he needed, but bulk wasn’t always a measure of strength. In this case, it wouldn’t even enter the equation. It didn’t matter how many weights you lifted or how many steroids you put into your body, as certain areas remained unprotected. The most critical was the neck, and, outside of wearing a suit of armor or a carbon fiber turtle neck sweater, it was incredibly vulnerable. My first move, therefore, was to use my left hand to punch him hard in the throat while I used my right to trap his gun hand. His eyes went wide with shock as he gasped for breath, and I immediately followed it up with a right vertical palm to his face that bloodied his nose and filled his eyes with tears. His vision was now blurry, and he was having a hard time breathing, allowing me to shove him backwards into the elevator wall and bring my knee up into his groin. The force had nowhere to go except up through his balls and into his body, and it lifted him off his feet. But, if his bulk actually were the result of steroids, then his balls might be a smaller and less appealing target, which is why I then directed the next knee up into his solar plexus.

  The gorilla buckled over but somehow recovered enough to throw a pretty solid right uppercut into my ribs. I exhaled at the point of impact to lessen the blow, but it was still a damn good hit. He tried another, but this time I was ready and shot both of my hands into the crux of his arm to stop the strike from reaching my stomach. Now, I had the inside line, and I twisted counterclockwise and used my entire body to drive my right elbow into his stomach. The combination of the pain and the wind being knocked from his lungs dropped him onto his knees, and I hit him with two double heel palms to his neck that left him dazed and perfectly prepped for my finishing move. I was going to use the old combat slap—an unusual technique I’d learned from a member of Britain’s SAS while on a joint operation in Afghanistan. It entailed delivering a monumentally hard slap to an opponent’s jaw, and, done correctly, knocked him out cold. Done incorrectly, you ended up looking like a big sissy, because you just slapped another man. I therefore went all out and put my entire body into the motion, and the blow knocked him completely unconscious. His head bounced off the wall, then he collapsed against me with his face resting against my groin region in a way that, when viewed form the right direction, might appear as though he were delivering oral pleasure. Before I could move him off of me, the elevator stopped, and the doors opened to reveal an affluent looking Arabic couple who started to step aboard but abruptly stopped when they took in the scene.

  “Oh, don’t mind my friend here. He just realized that it was sunset, and he needed to stop and prey,” I said.

  “It’s not sunset yet,” the woman responded.

  “And Mecca is the other direction,” the man added.

  “Yeah, unfortunately, he’s dumb as fuck.”

  “Um, perhaps we should wait for another elevator,” the man said.

  “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

  The couple continued to stare as the door closed, and soon the elevator was once again heading downward, and thankfully it only stopped at my floor, thus eliminating the potential for any more awkward encounters. I grabbed the gorilla’s legs and dragged him out of the elevator and stopped once I had his head clear of the doors. Fuck, what the hell was I supposed to do now? I looked around and spied a food cart just down the hall and walked over and rolled it back to the elevator and heaved the gorilla over the top the way a cowboy might heave a body over a horse. I rolled him down the hall to my room but paused to take a minute to think. If they had a man up on the gym level, it stood to reason there might also be another in my room. The linen gorilla would be the point man to lead me back here while his partner, or partners, would be waiting inside to help finish the job—which probably entailed torturing and killing me. Had I been a quitter, this would have been an excellent time to call the Topless Agenda and tell them to fuck off because I was getting on a plane and heading back home.

  Unfortunately, I wasn’t a quitter, so I needed to go inside my luxurious room and deal with any unwelcome visitors. But, every decent incursion began with a little recon, and, to that end, I placed my ear against the door. There was barely a sound, but, even if my room were bustling with bad guys, they could have been disco dancing with a gaggle of strippers, and I probably wouldn’t have heard a thing. This was a ‘seven star’ hotel after all, which meant proper soundproofing, so that guests could enjoy their stay in peace—or without peace depending on their individual preference. Oh well, I guess I would just find out when I went inside. I pulled the gorilla’s pistol out of his shoulder holster and slid my card into the key lock. The light flashed green, and I opened the door just far enough to do a quick visual sweep of the room. It appeared to be empty, but there still might be someone hiding out of view behind the door, so I decided to get sneaky and dropped down to the floor and slid in on my back. There, exactly as I feared, was the gorilla’s partner, but he wasn’t expecting anyone to slither in like an inverted lizard, so his gaze was focused at eye level, and that meant he only saw me at the last minute, which was a minute too late.

  “Freeze, goatfucker, or I’ll give you a lead vasectomy,” I said, pointing the pistol at his groin.

  The guy wasn’t as bulked up with muscle as his friend, but he was fit and had the bearing of someone with a military background, and that made me think he might be more prone to trying something. Fortunately, for the sake of any of his yet to be conceived children, he understood that I had the upper hand, and he held out his arms in a placating manner.

  “Good, now slowly place your pistol on the floor.”

  He did as I asked, which was a smart move and told me that he was the brains of this operation while the gorilla was the brawn. As it turned out, they had both miscalculated their target and both were now officially in the dumbass category. I stood up carefully, all the while keeping Brains in my sights.

  “Good, now kick it over here,” I said.

  He did as I asked, and I picked up his gun and slid it into my waistband.

  “So far, so good—now, go out and roll your friend into the room.”

  I stepped aside as he moved past me, and he looked relieved to see that his companion was still alive. He pushed the cart into the room and only managed to bump his friend’s head once as he cleared the doorframe. With his task done, he turned his attention back to me.

  “You have no idea who you are dealing with here,” he said.

  “True, and, considering where you’re sitting—neither do you.”

  He begrudgingly nodded.

  “Regardless, it would still be in your best interest to allow me and my companion to leave here right now,” he said.

  “And what exactly were my options going to be?”

  “The same. We were simply here to—deliver a message,” he said.

  I hadn’t survived this long in life without learning to read people, so I knew that this fucker was talking out of his ass.

  “Yeah, the gorilla said you had a message for me, but he never managed to deliver it, so, now’s your chance.”

  “Leave.”

  “Meaning, this hotel? Because that would suck, as I’m really starting to enjoy all the amenities,” I said, just to fuck with him.

  “No, leave, as in leave the United Arab Emirates.”

  “Believe me, I’ll be leaving soon enough, but, for the moment, I’m afraid the UAE is stuck with me.”

  I pulled out my phone and called Bill, and he answered on the third ring.

  “Hey, Finn—what’s up?” he asked.

  “Not much. I’m having a little get together in my room here with a couple uninvited visitors who are apparently here to tel
l me I need to leave the UAE.”

  “Oh shit, are you OK?”

  “Yeah, the situation is under control, but I could obviously use a little help.”

  “No problem, I’ll make arrangements. Oh, and you’ll be pleased to learn that I have some good news, but I’ll wait to tell you in person.”

  “Excellent, I’ll be eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

  I hung up and motioned for my unwelcome guest to take a seat on the couch while I sat directly across from him where I could keep him under close watch. He fidgeted and looked around the room nervously, obviously trying to figure out how he was going to try and escape. A groan brought both of our attention to the cart, where the gorilla was stirring. He slowly came awake and struggled off the cart and looked confused as he took in the scene.

  “Good morning, sunshine. Why don’t you come join your friend here on the couch,” I suggested.

  He soon realized that I was holding a gun, and he acquiesced and walked over to sit beside Brains. Side by side, they were quite a couple—Brains and Brawn. They looked at each other and exchanged a nod, then awkward silence descended upon the room.

  “Now, as we have a little time to kill, why don’t you two fucks tell me who sent you,” I said.

  “There were no names, but I can assure you that he is someone to be feared”

  “So, it’s a he, and you know he’s to be feared, yet you don’t know his name. That makes you either a dumbass or a liar.”

  “Everything was done through an intermediary, and when dealing with these kinds of people, I find it is often safest to know as little as possible.”

  He had a point, which was yet more proof that he was the brains of the operation. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what powerful United Arab Emirates citizen might possibly want me to leave. There were probably a lot of people counting on Farid’s new discovery, but his main boss, Sheik Hamza, would certainly be a good candidate.

  “Does the name Sheikh Hamza ring any bells?” I asked.

  Neither man appeared to have any reaction, so it wasn’t Hamza, or else they really didn’t know the identity of their employer. Regardless of who this mysterious fucker might be, I still wanted to know how in the flying fuck he could know anything about me and the Topless Agenda’s plans? Shitsky, something was clearly rotten in the State of Dubai, or perhaps even the Topless Agenda itself.

  “As you assholes have nothing useful to say, how about we kill some time by playing Would You Rather,” I suggested.

  “What?” Brains asked.

  “Would You Rather. It’s a game. I ask you a question like would you rather be able to turn invisible or have x-ray vision.”

  They both thought for a moment.

  “I would choose x-ray vision,” Brawn said.

  Brains scowled at his friend before responding.

  “At this moment, I would obviously choose the ability to become invisible.”

  “Good choice,” I said, with a smile.

  At least he had a sense of humor, and that would make the next twenty minutes together slightly less awkward. I moved on to my next question and decided to make it a little wackier.

  “Would you rather eat a Big Mac or a Whopper?”

  “Big Mac,” Brains said.

  “Whopper, more protein, less carbs,” Brawn said.

  Of course the gorilla was carb conscious, but I doubted he knew that the human brain relied on a minimum of 500 calories of carbs a day for its basic functioning, which was yet another reason he was the brawn rather than the brains. Seven equally asinine questions later there was a knock at the door, and I looked through the peephole to see it was Bill and three other guys. I opened the door, and Bill smiled.

  “I believe someone called for an exterminator,” he said.

  “Yeah, apparently even the Burj Al Arab gets roaches, though I must say—these are some pretty big fuckers.”

  “No problem,” Bill said, as the three men with him took hold of Brain and Brawn and ushered them efficiently out of the room.

  Bill closed the door behind them then came over and took a seat on the couch.

  “So, what happens to those two? A long, one way trip into the desert?” I asked.

  “Nah, we’ll create some kind of scenario that allows them to keep their jobs, and then we’ll put them on our payroll and turn enemies into assets.”

  “Everybody wins.”

  “Yeah, pretty much. So, what did those two want?” he asked.

  “Supposedly they were here just to tell me that a very powerful unnamed man wants me to leave the UAE.”

  “That makes it pretty clear that someone knows why you’re here”

  “Yeah, and now we need to get this done even sooner.”

  “True, but at least I have some good news to balance out the bad news.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Farid is going to be at that party at the Royal Palace.”

  “Oh good, but won’t he still have the same contingent of security?”

  “Nope, the Palace is one of the few places that the existing security is good enough that he won’t have additional protection.”

  “When is the party?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “Shit, I suppose I better call Olivia.”

  I pulled out my phone, dialed her number, then hit the speaker button and patiently waited until she answered on the second ring.

  “Hello, Tag, I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon!” she said, sounding excited.

  “Yeah, and it would appear that fate is finally working in my favor.”

  “Oh really—what’s up?”

  “My penis, because I have some good news!’

  “Please tell me you’re free to accompany me to my big soirée!”

  “I am m’lady!”

  “Well, fuck yeah! Now, I’ll have a date to keep all my lame ass coworkers off of my ass for the night.”

  “And someone to cuddle with when it’s all over.”

  “Yeah, and, as I remember, you can cuddle like a motherfucker.”

  “I sure can, so, we’re on like Donkey Kong,” I said.

  “Excellent, and if you count the shower on the plane as our second date, then I guess tomorrow will officially be our third.”

  “Shower?” Bill mouthed, looking surprised.

  I muted the phone for a second while I responded.

  “Best second date ever,” I told him.

  “Where are you staying?” Olivia asked.

  “The Burj Al Arab.”

  “That shithole?”

  “Yeah, sadly it’s all my client could afford.”

  “Well then, I’ll send a car to come rescue you at six tomorrow evening. Dress formal.”

  “How formal?”

  “James Bond in a tuxedo ordering a Martini at the casino in Monte Carlo formal.”

  “Got it.”

  “Good, I’ll see you tomorrow evening, James,” she said, before hanging up.

  I put down the phone and looked at Bill.

  “Fuck, then I guess we need to go Tux shopping tomorrow morning,” I said.

  “Martini, Mr. Bond?” Bill asked.

  “Yes, but shaken not stirred,” I said, once again doing my best Sean Connery.

  Bill and I enjoyed our martinis then headed off to dinner at one of the hotel’s premier restaurants. It was called Al Muntaha, and it resided on the top floor of the Burj Al Arab and specialized in modern European cuisine. The nighttime view of Dubai was spectacular, and we enjoyed an equally spectacular, if not affordable, dinner consisting of a Wagyu filet, shaved asparagus and gratinated parmigianino macaroni. Three martini’s later we parted ways in the elevator, and I managed to make it back to my room without a single altercation. I entered my suite and heard my iPhone ringing and looked at the screen to see that Senator Matheson was calling.

  “Hola, Douglas,” I said.

  “Hola, Finn. How’s it going?”

  “Good and bad, I suppose.”

&nbs
p; “Oh well, give me the good news first.”

  “Alrighty then, I’ll start with Farid. I confirmed that the intel you gave me was accurate, and they have him under tight security pretty much everywhere he goes, so he would appear to be nearly impossible to approach.”

  “And this is the good news?”

  “No, but I’m still getting to that part. You see, on the plane over, I met a woman who needs a date for a big soirée at the Royal Palace, and it just so happens that Farid will be in attendance, and I think it would be a perfect place to make contact.”

  “So, what’s the bad news?”

  “A couple of assholes showed up at my hotel today hoping to deliver a message that a very powerful man wants me to leave the UAE, so that very same asshole apparently knows why I’m here. Combine that with our whole emergency landing snafu back at SFO, and I’d say that it seems pretty likely this same powerful asshole has somehow penetrated the Topless Agenda.”

  “Fuck. I just don’t see how it’s possible.”

  “Yeah, fuck, indeed, but the evidence is pretty overwhelming.”

  “At least the fact that you’re talking to me means you’re OK,” he said.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I dealt with the messengers, and then your man Bill came over and relocated them for me.”

  Matheson was quiet for a moment, as he was obviously still thinking about my latest update.

  “So, I take it you didn’t get the identity of this powerful man?” he asked.

  “No, but I’ve been wondering about who this fucker might be, and I can’t help but think Sheik Hamza is a pretty good candidate.”

  “Well, he does have a lot to lose, but then so does the entire United Arab Emirates.”

  “Yeah, and when I mentioned the his name to my two unwelcome visitors today, I didn’t see any kind of reaction, so hopefully the next messengers will be a little better informed.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  We had another moment of quiet, then I decided it was only polite to ask how things were going on his end.

  “So, how it’s going with you and the rest of the Topless Agenda?”

  “Needless to say, we’re in a mild state of panic, though you’re latest news is going to make things even worse.”