Topless Agenda

by Lyle Christie

  “Guten tag,” I said.

  “Good evening, and welcome to the Schtenberger Hotel.”

  How did they all know? Was my German really so bad that they could tell by hearing me say one phrase? I gave her my name, and she typed it in then looked up and smiled graciously, her simple gesture once again lighting up the room—and my penis along with it.

  “Ahh, we’ve been expecting you, Mr. Finn,” she said, as she reached down below the counter and brought up two room key cards and a little pamphlet that detailed the hotel’s amenities as well as the local attractions of Davos.

  “Danke.”

  “Bitte, Mr. Finn.”

  “Oh please, call me Tag.”

  “Thank you, Tag, and my name is Heidi. I’m the night manager, so you should feel free to call me if you need anything.”

  “Heidi?”

  “Yeah, just like the movie, and, in case you were wondering, I don’t live with my grandfather. I live alone.”

  “Good to know.”

  She responded with yet another smile, though this one was rather provocative and raised my boner threat level to a solid DEFCON 1. With my head spinning with impure thoughts, I snatched up the key cards, and turned to find a bellboy already picking up our things. He was a tall, fit-looking twenty-something, and, during the short ride in the elevator, he was extremely polite and introduced himself as Walter before telling us all about the hotel and the city of Davos. He also told us we could call on him at anytime for anything, though I’m fairly certain he was talking more to Lux than me, but that was perfectly fine, as I would prefer to call the lovely Heidi if I had any questions or concerns. We got to our room, and Walter opened the door and smiled.

  “Welcome to our finest suite.”

  We entered to find it was spacious, and, more importantly, extremely well appointed, the design scheme, like the lobby, both modern and rustic. One wall was bare white with a large black and white picture of a skier while the others were covered in wood paneling. In the middle of the room was a cozy lounge area with comfortable looking furniture all done in muted shades of brown and dark green. Beneath this resided a large white faux-fur rug that stretched all the way to the fireplace and just begged to be the setting of some sweet lovemaking. Opposite all this was a bar equipped with four barstools which truly made this home away from home.

  “Madam, your bedroom is over here,” Walter said, as he walked to one of the doorways on the left side of the room and motioned for Lux.

  She followed him next door while I walked over to the window to gaze out at our view of Davos. There was nothing as beautiful as an alpine hamlet at night—the lights of the dwellings shining in the darkness while the partial moon made the surrounding snow covered mountains glow in a dark shade of royal blue. Somewhere out there were Babineux and Bridgette, and they were almost certainly enjoying some wine, cheese, or sex at this very moment. They might as well have their fun tonight, because, tomorrow, things were likely going to get a bit ugly when we had our impromptu family reunion.

  Walter returned from Lux’s room, and I started to reach for my wallet, but he told me she had already taken care of him, which I suspect meant that she tipped him by showing him her boobs. He smiled and nodded before disappearing out the door looking a little too happy in my opinion, thus backing up my suspicion. I strolled over to the bar and made a martini with some Kettel One vodka, then put my stuff in my bedroom before grabbing my toiletries and heading into the bathroom. As expected, it had the same design scheme as the rest of the suite, mixing minimalist white walls with tasteful touches of wood trim over a floor covered in smooth dark grey granite tiles. I took a large swallow of my cocktail then turned my attention to two of the three most important features in the room. The first was obviously the toilet, while the other two were the goodly sized Jacuzzi tub and the glass enclosed shower. I decided to go with the shower and immediately undressed and stepped inside, happy to at last wash away all the filth I’d acquired, real or imagined, from that gas station bathroom. The fixtures were, of course, Grohe, and I turned on the taps and adjusted the mixture until it was perfect then stepped underneath the flow and let the water pour down over my body. I applied shampoo then sudsed up my body with the soap, and, soon thereafter, heard a knock, and I looked over to see Lux coming into the bathroom. Her hair was wet, and she had a towel wrapped around her upper body, which meant she too had taken a shower.

  “You knocked. What’s wrong?”

  “I always knock.”

  “Maybe on other people’s doors but never mine. What do you need?”

  Instead of answering me, she turned her attention to my martini, which was sitting all by its lonesome on the counter.

  “Oh, I see you made yourself a drink. Where’s mine?”

  “Still in the bottle. I’m letting the vodka breathe.”

  “Then I guess we’ll just have to share this one,” she said, as she picked up my drink and took a sip.

  Lux leaned against the sink and continued to enjoy my cocktail while I enjoyed the view both above and below her towel. Beneath it I could see her long shapely legs while above it resided the bare tops of her sizable breasts. I put it all to memory then sighed to myself as I leaned under the flow of water and rinsed off the soap and shampoo. Feeling properly clean, I stepped out to dry off then wrapped the towel around my waist and managed to steal back my drink and finish the last sip.

  “Oh well, at least your not whining about me enjoying the view anymore,” she said, as she ran her eyes over my body.

  “Yeah, there’s nothing wrong with a little casual eye candy between friends,” I said, noticing that her towel had slipped down, allowing her nipples to slip free and peer amiably at me.

  She saw where I was looking and cruelly readjusted her towel back into place then pointed at my empty glass.

  “What say we go make a refresher,” she said.

  “Good idea, though I think you should know that I find nipples to be the prefect garnish for my martinis.”

  “Oh, really? Then, I guess you better follow me to the bar right now if you want to use these,” she said, as she opened her towel and flashed me.

  I hadn’t seen this playful side of Lux in many years, and it instantly reminded me of why I had fallen so madly in love with her back in Afghanistan. It was a cruel reminder, however, of the fact she wasn’t mine, so I decided to respond to her little remark with some retaliatory kitten play. I slipped off my towel and prepared to snap it at her, but she bolted from the bathroom. I managed to catch up to her halfway across my room, and I fired off a quick shot at her backside. It landed with a dull snap and was just enough for her to scream and giggle as she continued running for the door. I followed close behind, and the two of us went bounding into the living room to find John and Corn sitting at the bar. They were each drinking a martini and appeared more than a little bit taken aback to see us frolicking about in our current state of semi-undress. I quickly wrapped my towel back around my waist and tried to appear as casual as possible considering the awkward circumstances. Meanwhile, our two unexpected guests remained oddly quiet until John finally broke the tension and spoke.

  “We’ve been waiting in the bar downstairs for over two hours. What the hell took you two so long to get here,” he asked.

  I thought back to our eventful stop at the gas station and the perfect response came to mind.

  “Well, you know how it is when you’re on the road—shit happens.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Woman in Red

  THERE WAS NOTHING quite as awkward as having just been caught in the act of chasing a married woman out of your bedroom while both of you were giggling like schoolgirls and nearly naked—and we couldn’t have looked more guilty had we been humping like lumberjacks on the living room couch. Lux and I, however, put on a good show of acting innocent, mainly because we were innocent—at the moment, anyway. We joined Corn and John at the bar, where, unlike us, they looked as fresh as daisies, obviously, be
cause they hadn’t spent any of their day in a gas station bathroom.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Did we inadvertently interrupt something?” John asked, stifling a laugh.

  I noticed Corn was watching us rather intently as he waited for the answer. The truth was that we were innocently hanging out, and had we not shared a moment of intense passion on a beach a few nights ago, we wouldn’t have felt quite so guilty.

  “No, fortunately we just finished.”

  “With what?” Corn asked.

  “Yeah, with what?” John added, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

  Oh well, if they were going to drag this out, then I might as well have a little fun.

  “As you can see by our wet hair and obvious state of undress, we were just in the shower.”

  “Excuse me?” Corn asked.

  “We were worried about the possibility that someone bugged our room, so we performed a little counter surveillance by using the running water to cover our conversation.”

  “And you were naked?” Corn asked, his voice belying his rising ire.

  “Of course—we were in the shower.”

  “But…”

  “Honey, it’s OK. We were in the shower in separate bathrooms. I was just in there to talk to Finn,” Lux said.

  “Oh, I see. Finn’s just fucking with me,” Corn said, appearing to relax.

  “Come on now—when am I not fucking with you?”

  “Generally only when you’re asleep.”

  “Exactly.”

  John, unlike Corn, was not quite as convinced and gave me a wry smile as he held up the pitcher.

  “Refill? I imagine you must have built up quite a thirst—from the drive up, I mean,” he said.

  “Funny you should ask, as I am particularly parched and would love a refill your majesty,” I said, as I placed my empty glass on the bar.

  John filled it, and I picked it up and scrutinized it for a minute before looking to Lux.

  “I’m thinking it could use a little garnish. What do you think Lux?” I asked.

  She gave me a little smile before responding.

  “Yeah, maybe, but are you sure you want to put your pudding on the shelf right now?” she asked.

  She had officially used my stupid saying not once, but twice since leaving the Caribbean and, now, all I could do was smile and silently applaud her efforts. John and Corn, however, looked confused by her statement.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” John asked.

  “Oh, nothing, it’s just an old saying,” I responded.

  “Well, stop being a pussy and drink your martini the way it is,” he said.

  I took a sip and shrugged my approval before addressing the two elephants in the room.

  “So, how did you two fuckers get all the way up here so quickly?” I asked.

  “Helicopter, compliments of the Swiss government.”

  “It must be nice to be in the aristocracy.”

  “It is, and so, when we finished up early with the Swiss authorities, we jumped on a chopper and hightailed it up here to give you two an update. We got a report from the Swiss Intelligence Service that a Saudi hit team is in the country and already in Davos, which means you need to move on Babineux first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Are the Swiss helping?”

  “Only with monitoring the hit team and Babineux. The rest of this operation would be a complicated extradition case, so it’s pretty much up to you guys to get Babineux and Bridgette out of the country as quickly and quietly as possible.”

  “So, other than the Swiss, are there any other agencies or assets working on this?”

  “No—why do you ask?” John said, looking a little concerned.

  “We had a tail on us today—Americans, but we lost them before we got to Davos,” Lux said.

  John and Corn shared a nervous glance, which I took as a bad omen.

  “Shit. Only Corn and I even know about this operation.”

  “And the Swiss, obviously.”

  “Yeah, but they know only the bare minimum, and they’re pretty tight lipped. Can you give me any more details about your mysterious tail?”

  “It was a man and a woman, and they both looked government issue, though the woman was a very pretty brunette—probably a C-cup.”

  “C-cup eh? Well, in that case, I’ll start looking into this matter immediately.”

  “I’m sure you will, though I suppose I should tell you what else I found when I searched their vehicle.”

  “A size C bra and some sexy thong underwear, perhaps?”

  “Not quite. I’m afraid our mysterious couple were armed to the teeth with weapons and surveillance gear, but I did find one little potentially useful clue. The Range Rover was registered to the Fuchs Corporation, and that’s Fuchs with a ch, not a ck,” I said.

  “I’ve heard of it. It’s one of Germany’s largest corporations, but I can’t imagine what in the hell they’d have to do with any of this. I’ll make some quiet inquiries and see if we can’t come up with some kind of connection, but, in any case, we still have to proceed with the mission. Any other concerns, other than the two Fuchs?”

  “No, other than them, it looks pretty straightforward. We grab Babineux and Bridgette, then haul ass back to the Zurich airport. If something goes wrong, switch to Plan B and haul ass to Monte Carlo and rendezvous with the Sozo.”

  “You’ve got it,” Corn said.

  I picked up my drink, and we joined glasses to toast.

  “To douche bag French arms dealers and their cocktease American girlfriends,” I said.

  I finished my drink and headed back into my room to take a minute to look through my new clothes before deciding once again, to go with the Johnny Cash look. I went with black pants, black button up shirt, and a black sport coat to pull it all together. I stood in front of the mirror and smiled as I realized I had the perfect blend of mysterious and brooding. Davos here I come! I walked out, joined the three of them in the living room, and was surprised when they suddenly stopped talking.

  “What? More secrets?” I asked.

  “Sorry, we need to talk about some official stuff,” Corn said.

  “So, you three assholes want to talk rather than join me for dinner downstairs?”

  “We’ll eat in—but perhaps we can join you for a drink later.”

  “OK, you three have fun exchanging secrets. I’m heading to the restaurant,” I said.

  John looked at me enviously as I headed for the door, probably because he figured I was going out to troll for women while he took care of boring official business. That definitely wouldn’t be the case, however, as it really wasn’t my style, and if I were actually trying to meet a woman, all I’d have to do is stay in my room and take a bath, and, eventually, one would just wander in and join me. That’s how it seemed to go lately, anyway, which was pretty weird. Good—but weird.

  I stepped outside and there, standing guard, was the same attractive blond female Secret Service agent I’d seen at the airport. I gave her a nod and a smile, and she returned the gesture as I left her and headed for the elevator. Once inside, I hit the button for the lobby and patiently waited until the doors opened before walking over to the restaurant to ask if there were any tables available in the dining room. Unfortunately, it was a busy Friday night, and the place was booked, but the hostess said I could get a seat in the bar, which resided along the edge of the dining area. That was actually better, as people eating alone in restaurants always looked kind of lonely, while people eating alone in bars were kind of tragically cool. If I’d had my laptop, I might have even passed for a writer.

  The hostess led me to the bar, and I grabbed a seat at the far end, where I had my back to the wall and could see the entire place from the entrance to the kitchen. Old habits were hard to break, and, since I was in my old job, I guess it was good to get back into my old habits. I ordered a vodka martini and decided to do a little people watching. Having been a social psychology major in college, I
found people’s eccentricities fascinating, and a social setting like a bar or restaurant functioned as my own version of a laboratory. I looked around and saw what appeared to be a lot of Europeans but only one joker daring enough to wear yellow pants. I nicknamed him Frenchy and watched as he desperately fawned over his much younger female companion. I was guessing he had brought her here for the weekend, but, strangely, she didn’t look all that enthusiastic. Next to them was a table with some Middle Eastern men. One was dressed nicer than the others, so I assumed he was the head honcho while the others were his employees or, more likely, bodyguards considering their fit looking appearance and quiet watchfulness of the other restaurant patrons. The man in charge, unlike his subordinates, was only paying attention to the women, perhaps hoping to take a vacation from his thirteen wives by scoring with an infidel.

  The bartender came over with my martini, and I thanked him and took a look at the menu. I skipped the fondue starter and ordered a chicken breast entree with potatoes and vegetables, and, as I put down the menu, I saw that a beautiful woman had taken up residence at the other end of the bar. She was blond with blue eyes, perfect skin, and her athletic yet curvaceous figure was very hard to ignore in her red dress, which was tight and silky—its thin spaghetti straps negating the addition of a bra, thus making a lovely show of her particularly pert breasts and pokey nipples. We inadvertently made eye contact, and she smiled, the gesture bringing a distinct tingling to my gentleman region. I smiled back and tipped my glass towards her then pretended to go back to looking at other things.