With a violent toss, the huge bouncer tossed a drunken man out onto the wet street. For a moment the man lay there groaning then crawled his way to first his knees then his feet. He wobbled unsteadily from side to side, took two steps and fell again. He was determined though and climbed back to his feet. Making smaller moves, he managed to make it to the other side of the street. Grabbing onto a parking meter, he stood there as if its support was the only thing rooting him in this world. Beside the meter was a black highly polished Mercedes. Beads of rainwater bubbled up over its gleaming surface from the summer shower that recently passed. The man, ignorant of the fact the car was there, turned abruptly…and vomited over its hood.
Rounding the street corner, a woman emerged from the shadows. She was tall with flaxen hair cascading down over her shoulders. Her dress was glimmering silver…and short, the front plunging down nearly to her stomach exposing her ample cleavage. Moving steadily, she approached the entrance where the bouncer had ejected the drunk. Turning she watched the man slide off the hood of the once beautiful car, collapsing with a groan onto the curb. Shaking her head, she opened the door and stepped inside.
Instantly, there was a glassed in booth. Sitting behind the glass was an ugly fat woman. Her expression showed her contempt of what she was doing. Next to the entrance booth stood the huge bouncer. He towered over her; his arms and chest were thick and muscular. He was a black man with a shiny bald head. In his left ear dangled an earring.
“Twelve bucks,” the ugly woman croaked her voice matching her looks.
“Twelve bucks, Christ isn’t that a bit much?” the woman said fishing through her small purse.
The huge bouncer glared at her body as she produced the money. She filled out the dress well; she could give most 20-year-old s a run for their money. He’d seen his share of hookers, the club was full of them, but she was different from the others.
She looked classy.
“No drugs…no firearms,” the ugly woman said taking her money then with a rubber pad, stamped the image of a fish on the top of her hand.
The woman turned nearly colliding with the bouncer. For a long moment, they stood staring at each other.
“Haven’t seen you in here before,” the man said in a husky voice.
“Of course you haven’t, it’s my first time,” she said with a bite in her voice.
“Give me your purse,” the man said extending his hand.
“For what?” she frowned.
“Gonna check to see what you got in there,” the man said snatching it from her grasp.
Opening the tiny purse he fished his finger around on the inside then closed it and handed it back to her.
“Now up against the wall,” he ordered her.
“What the hell is this? Are you some kind of cop or something?” she scowled.
“You could be carrying a gun…knife or some drugs.”
“You’re kidding me…in this dress?” she looked at him shocked.
“Just turn around and lean against the counter,” he barked winking at the ugly woman behind the glass.
The woman turned and did as she was told. The bouncer began squeezing and feeling his way down her body paying particular attention to her breasts and thighs. Behind the glass, the ugly fat woman stared at her laughing finding the whole thing amusing.
When he was done the bouncer stepped back away from her his brow sweating.
“You can go in now,” he growled.
The woman turned giving him a deadly look. Opening the inner door she hesitated, the sound of the band blaring through the opening. Turning she looked at the bouncer.
“I don’t like being pawed,” she snapped.
“You’re a damn hooker…and if I wanted you on your knees right here and now…you’d be down there,” he pointed to the ground in front of him.
The woman gave them an icy stare then went inside the club. As the door closed, she could hear the two of them laughing hysterically.
The inside of the bar was excessively thick with smoke and people. To her right, a band played classic rock and roll music. In front was a dance floor, people gyrated to the beat of the music. Scattered around were small tables. Flashing strobe lights and multicolored spotlights danced back and forth, they moved so quickly that it nearly gave her vertigo. She wondered why more people hadn’t gotten sick to their stomachs from them. Against the far wall was a huge bar, two bartenders worked continuously filling orders. People sat on stools around them chatting, flirting and arguing. Waitress’s wearing skimpy outfits circled around the room carrying trays of drinks.
Her eye gazed upon a man at the end of the bar; he was clearly an Arab. Standing next to him was a blond tart with the biggest fake breasts she had ever seen.
She wondered how many foot pounds of pressure each one held.
The Arab grinned, his eyes dancing from the girl’s face to her breasts.
Moving down into the crowd, she slipped between people making her way to the bar. She then went over to where the Tart was. The woman stopped talking and looked her up and down frowning.
“Find your own,” she spat, then turned her attention back to the Arab who now glared with satisfaction at the new arrival.
“What, afraid he doesn’t want a woman with fake tits?” the woman retaliated.
“F…fake!” the tart stuttered her face turning red.
The Arab turned to her with surprise.
“You want me to reach into that dress and prove it to him?” the woman smiled.
“I…I…of all the nerve,” the tart said rattled, she then slipped off the barstool and walked quickly away.
“How? How did you know this?” the Arab looked at the woman with surprise.
“They didn’t move any, watch mine when I move,” she directed his attention to her own breasts.
The man’s eyes glared with desire at her breasts. The woman slightly shook her body causing her breasts to jiggle.
“Ah…I see,” he said licking his lips. “Please, allow me to buy you a beverage,” he motioned to the open barstool.
“Screwdriver” she said to the bartender. “If you don’t mind my saying, you look out of place here.”
“Yes, I suppose I do, I go where my business leads me,” he said taking a sip of his own drink.
“I usually don’t ask this either…but what’s your name and what’s your business?” she said watching the bartender place her drink down.
“Ben Hamali…and I am…well an importer. Now yours?” he looked at her.
“Olivia…Olivia Jordan,” she said smiling “And I think you can guess my kind of business.”
“Ah, such a sweet innocent name…like a beautiful flower,” he smiled.
“Oh maybe…but not that innocent,” she replied.
“You are so lovely, a woman like you in my country would be cherished…worshiped.”
“So you’ll cherish and worship me then?”
“Of course my dear,” he beamed.
“How much?” she said resting her chin in her palm.
“For a flower such as yourself…I will allow you to tell me,” Hamali grinned.
“$500 bucks for four hours,” she said.
“$1000 dollars for the night,” he countered.
“Deal” she grinned.
“I will forewarn you my dear…I have particular tastes,” he said eyeing her his grin turning evil.
“Nothing I haven’t done before,” she shrugged. “Shall we leave?”
“Not just yet, I still have my business to conclude.”
“Would you like me to leave?” she said batting her eyelashes at him.
“Heaven’s no! I will not let a flower like yourself out of my sight…someone else will come along and pick you,” he grinned feeling his face flush.
Her hair was radiant; her eyes were dark brown and made him exceptionally warm. She had long eyelashes, which she fluttered at him causing his heart to skip a beat. Her cheekbones were high and her lips were full and inviting. His eyes darted from her face to the plunging neckline of the dress. She wore no bra; her breasts were full, her nipples straining against the silky fabric of the dress.
He was intensely aroused by her.
Glancing down at her legs they were full and shapely, her dark stockings and high heels arousing him further.
“Like the merchandise?” she asked.
“Oh yes! Oh yes indeed!” he stuttered.
“So tell me, if you don’t mind my asking…what do you import?” she said taking as sip of her drink.
“Odds and ends,” he said drawing his attention back to her eyes.
“Care to elaborate? I mean, I don’t meet many importers or exporters, I just wondered what type of things you ship,” she said innocently.
For a moment Hamali glanced down at his drink then looked around the room, then turned his gaze back to her cleavage.
“Electronics” he said softly.
“Oh like stereos…that sort of thing?” she replied.
“No…not that sort of thing. Electronic parts,” he said his voice barely a whisper.
“I don’t get it, you mean computer chips?” she blinked.
“Yes, like computer chips,” he nodded.
“Never seen one, only on the cover of a magazine,” she shook her head.
Reaching into his pocket he produced a small black velvet case.
“You’re not going to propose to me are you? I mean we just met and all,” she grinned.
“This is what a computer chip looks like,” he said opening the box.
Inside was a small chip being held in place by two prongs. Olivia took it from him and brought it closer to her face studying it. Seconds later, Hamali snatched it away from her and tucked it back into his pocket.
“That’s different,” she said to him.
“People will pay big money for them,” he said glancing around the room.
“How do you know this person you’re meeting is going to?” she asked.
“Simple, it’s a really special chip…only one of its kind,” he said feeling the bulge on the inside of his jacket pocket.
“So when’s this guy suppose to show?” she looked around the room.
“I expected him here by now,” Hamali said.
“You want to dance while we’re waiting?” she asked.
“I’d rather not,” he said not meeting her gaze.
“Well I think then I’ll go to the lady’s room and freshen up a bit,” she said.
Getting off the barstool she nearly twisted her ankle, her body falling forward. Hamali reached out quickly to catch her.
“T…thank you, I thought I was going down for the count there!” she said hanging onto him.
“You did not hurt yourself did you?” he asked.
“Nothing 12 hours in the sack won’t cure,” she winked at him.
Hamali watched her walk towards the bathroom his eyes soaking in the luscious curve of her bottom. Then, abruptly someone came up startling him.
“By Allah’s ghost! You took five years off me!” he said gasping.
“You should pay closer attention to the people around you…someone could easily slip a knife into your back,” the man said.
The man’s face was serious and Hamali could easily see he wasn’t joking. For an instant he thought the man would produce a knife. Instead he slipped onto the barstool where Olivia had sat. His intense gaze then turned to see what Hamali was staring at. He watched the woman disappear into the bathroom.
Lighting a cigarette he puffed out a huge plume of smoke then turned his attention back to Hamali.
“So you have it?” the man said softly.
“Of course I do,” Hamali said reaching into his pocket.
The man’s complexion suddenly turned pasty white and his eyes looked up at the other man in muted shock.
“It’s…It’s gone!” he said frantically. “It was right in this pocket…I put it back there…after…” his words trailed.
“Shit!” the other man spat tossing his cigarette.
Inside the bathroom Olivia instantly went for one of the windows. Opening her purse she dumped the belongings then slipped the bag over her hand. Seconds later she punched through the window, clearing the glass as she went. The opening was small but what made her gasp was a huge dumpster that was parked directly in front. Trying to push the huge container out of the way she found she couldn’t budge it. There wasn’t enough leverage to overcome the weight of the container. Stepping off the toilet she quickly headed for the door, the only way out was either the side exits or the front door.
Just as she reached the door it burst open. Hamali and another man stood staring at her.
“Jordan!” the other man spat.
“You…you know this woman?” Hamali looked at the man surprised.
“She’s not a prostitute Hamali…she’s a God damn National Security agent!” the man spat, then reached into his coat to draw out his gun.
Olivia was quick, she lunged at the man driving her knee up into his stomach. The gun fell from his hands and he began to double over. With a quick blow she drove her elbow down hard behind his head. The man crumpled to the floor but quickly recovered. Reaching out he grabbed her ankle, Hamali was quick and he dove over the man colliding with her driving them both to the filthy bathroom floor.
“Give me what you took!” Hamali yelled grabbing hold of the front of her dress.
At that instant another woman came to the door of the bathroom, when she saw the two men struggling with another woman…she screamed.
The other man let go of Olivia’s ankle and went for his gun. Grasping it he brought it up to shoot but one of the bouncers emerged through the doorway. The man wheeled around and fired. The bullet tore into the man and for a moment he stood there stunned glancing down at his hand covering where he was shot. When he noticed his own blood leaking through his legs went weak and he stumbled back.
“Sonofabitch!” the man snarled. “Get that damn chip and lets get the hell out of here!”
Olivia swung her elbow around slamming it into Hamali’s face. The blow was so directed that she instantly broke his nose along with his cheekbone. He fell off her clutching his face and writhing in pain on the floor.
Olivia bounded as quickly as she could to her feet, the other man was quick also. His gun fired again, Olivia turned just as it grazed her side. He was about to take another shot when she spun around to slam her foot into his face. The man moved at the last instant but the sharp point of her high heel caught him along the cheek cutting him deeply. He fell back against one of the stall doors and took another shot, the bullet missing her and embedding itself deeply into the wall.
When Olivia exited the door she was instantly greeted with chaos. The whole place had erupted into one massive fight. Men punched and kicked each other, while women gouged and slammed their fists into each other along with other men. Trying to avoid hurting anyone else she moved cautiously through the heated crowd. Suddenly the woman with the huge fake breasts appeared in front of her.
“Where do you think you’re going tramp?” the tart snarled.
“Out of my way,” Olivia said trying to push past her.
The woman drew back and slammed her fist into Olivia’s jaw spinning her around. Cursing, she wheeled around then brought her leg up driving her foot into the woman’s chest. The blow knocked her clean off her feet slamming her against the wall. She slumped down dazed her two large gel breast pads protruding from the top of her shirt.
“I knew it,” Olivia breathed and continued towards the door.
When she reached it the large burly black bouncer was there tossing another man out into the street. Behind the glass, the ugly fat woman was yelling something she couldn’t hear.
“You’re not going anywhere sister till the Police get here!” the bouncer snarled showing his two gold teeth.
“Out of my way moron!” Olivia said moving towards the door.
“I said hold it!” the bouncer said grabbing her spinning her around his thick arm pinned under her chin.
She wasted no time, her anger was flaring, and her side ached. She didn’t have time to deal with this now. Grabbing the bouncer’s arm she drove her heel into his shin taking him off balance, then bent quickly over driving her butt into his groin. Seconds later the man came off the ground sailing over Olivia’s head. He hit the floor hard bouncing down the small set of stairs leading into the club. Her anger was now unchecked, she abruptly grabbed the steel folding chair that the bouncer had sat on and slammed it hard against the glass partition. The ugly fat woman squealed like a stuck pig as the glass shattered inwards. The chair struck knocking her backwards.
Olivia stood there for a moment her breathing labored. A blood lust had suddenly washed over her and she looked for the next victim.
Abruptly, the wood molding over the door shattered as a bullet struck. Turning she watched the man in the bathroom rush towards her. As quickly as possible she exited the club into the cool night air beyond. Her first sight was the drunk that had passed out on the curb, he had picked himself up and was now propped against the brick wall of a building. His head lolled from side to side and his hand moved as he mumbled something.
Suddenly, a dark green Cadillac screeched to a halt in front of her. The passenger window quickly lowered.
“Come on…get the hell in here hurry!” the driver yelled to her.
Behind the wheel was her partner Austin Nichols. Olivia opened the door and she slid into the passenger seat. He gunned the car as soon as she sat down the tires squealing as the rubber tried to grip the road.
“What in the hell happened back there? This was suppose to be an easy pickup, you were suppose to call in the Calvary…remember?” he asked screeching the car around a corner.
“Steen was there,” she said slipping on her seatbelt.
“Marcus Steen? That Sonofabitch hired killer?” Austin frowned.
“Yeah, same bastard. Whoever wanted this chip obviously wanted a professional to clean up after,” she said reaching inside her dress and producing the small velvet box.
“Least you got it,” Austin said wheeling around another corner.
“Of course I got it dummy. Do you think I would have left there so quickly if I hadn’t?” she scowled at him.
“No, I suppose not. Our ass is going to be in hot water though once word of this riot gets out,” he thumbed over his shoulder.
At that instant there was a loud pop, then the rearview mirror shattered spraying them both with tiny shards of glass. Turning Olivia saw a small round bullet hole in the rear window…along with the car that was chasing them.
“Step on it we’ve got company!”
“Steen!” Austin cursed flooring the accelerator.
Screaming through the city and running light after light Austin kept his foot hard on the accelerator. At any moment, he half expected some woman wheeling a baby carriage to appear in the road before him. Everything around them was a blur, buildings, parked cars, everything flashed by them so quickly it was disconcerting. In the distance, Austin spied the entrance ramp for interstate 95 north out of Boston.
“Hang on,” he said softly, glancing repeatedly in the side mirror.
Olivia braced herself, at the last possible moment Austin spun the steering wheel to the right. The car groaned and shuttered, then the tires began to slip on the wet pavement. With deadly momentum it careened slightly to the right, just enough to squeak onto the entrance ramp. The pursuing car didn’t have time to turn and instantly locked up its brakes.
Austin corrected the vehicle and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. Responding quickly the vehicle picked up speed and shot out onto the interstate. Glancing in his side mirror, he began to grin. He knew the other car had no chance of catching them.
“Slick huh?” he beamed at her.
Suddenly coming up behind them were the inordinately bright blue lights of a Massachusetts State Trooper. Quickly Austin slowed the vehicle down and brought it to the side of the road. Moments later the officer approached the vehicle.
“Pretty fancy driving there mister, you must have slid onto that entrance ramp at over 80mph,” he said the disgust clear in his voice.
“Spontaneous reaction, stupid move too,” Austin lied.
“License and registration,” the officer barked.
Austin handed him both documents, which were fakes and the officer walked back to the patrol car.
“Yeah slick,” Olivia said rolling her eyes, then winced at the pain in her side.
“What’s wrong?” Austin looked at her concerned.
“Took a bullet back there,” she said softly.
“Christ! Why didn’t you say something, you need to be in a hospital,” Austin said becoming concerned.
“Nothing we can’t handle back at the hotel room,” she added.
“Come on, how long does a damn ticket take?” Austin said impatiently.
Olivia smiled, she loved Austin. He was like the brother she never had; he was one of a very few people she trusted. Originally he came from Australia before joining the NSA and over the years, they had seen much action both in and out of the United States. He was also the only partner whom she could work with. Because of their success record, their superiors always put them together.
Austin glanced nervously in the side mirror, the officer was looking directly at them, and he appeared to be doing nothing. Then, something else caught his attention in the distance…more flashing blue lights.
“Something’s wrong,” he breathed softly, then started the car.
“Maybe they figured out the license was a fake,” Olivia said turning and looking over her shoulder.
“Maybe that bullet hole in the back window was enough to raise their suspicions,” he added. “In any event I think we should get the hell out of here.”
“You think you can outrun them? They’ll radio ahead…stop us somewhere.”
“What else?” Austin asked.
“Maybe we should see what they’re digging up?”
“Yeah maybe,” he said softly.
The second patrol car pulled in directly behind the first…then another came up behind that one. At that point, the original officer got out of his car…his gun drawn.
“Hands on the wheel please!” he yelled keeping the gun trained on them.
“What’s wrong?” Austin asked.
“Please step out of the car slowly…very slowly.”
“What are you charging me with?” he asked not reaching for the door handle.
“Step from the car now!” the officer yelled.
“They’re not going to tell us shit,” Austin whispered to Olivia.
The other officers took up positions on both sides of the car keeping their weapons trained on them.
“You ready?” Olivia breathed softly, then brought her arm up slowly to the floor shifter.
“Do it,” Austin said raising his hands in the air for a distraction.
Quickly, she slipped the gearshift into drive and Austin floored the accelerator. The car shot forward under a hail of gunfire. The rear windows shattered in spraying safety glass everywhere. Austin gripped the wheel and swung the car from side to side making a harder target for them to hit. The officers raced back to their vehicles and began pursuit.
“You won’t outrun them, not in this heap,” Olivia said glancing behind at the fast approaching headlights.
“Only one option then, we have to get rid of this car,” Austin said looking for the next exit back into Boston.
The patrol cars followed drawing up close behind them. One tried to slip in front but Austin kept them back threatening to collide with them. Suddenly, two more patrol cars screeched across the median from the other lane and bounced onto the pavement in front of them.
They were boxed in.
“Rolling roadblock!” Olivia said watching the cars.
The police cruisers positioned themselves completely around them; the forward two cars began to slow. It was a dangerous technique, but well trained officers could implement it effectively, stopping a high-speed chase quickly.
When of course, they were dealing with ordinary people.
Austin slammed on the brakes.
The two trailing patrol cars tried to stop but it was useless. They careened into the back of the car crushing in the trunk and putting them out of the chase. The forward and side patrol cars zoomed on before they could react to the situation. Austin swerved the car away and tromped on the accelerator. Slamming the left front of the car into the corner rear of another patrol car, he caused it to skid and slide sideways into another car, taking two more out.
Before the rest of them could recover from the situation he created, he sped on taking the nearest exit off the interstate.
“You’re such an offensive driver,” she smiled grimly.
“I love you too Sis,” he grinned.
Wasting no time, he wove the car through the city streets heading for the bay. Big floodlights bore down on the loading docks, there were few people around at 2:00am, that made it easier to get rid of the car. Positioning the car facing the water Austin removed the lug wrench from the trunk. He yanked on the emergency brake then positioned the wrench against the accelerator forcing the engine to race. He then cautiously slipped the gearshift into drive, the force of the engine straining against the locked brakes. Pulling himself out of the vehicle he snapped the parking brake off, the car screeched then surged forward running along the dock. Seconds later, it flew off the end hitting the water, for a moment the engine continued to run, then abruptly stopped as the car disappeared beneath the water.
“There, one down. Let’s get a taxi and get back to the hotel,” he said wiping his hands on his pants. “You going to make it?” he asked looking at her.
“I always do,” she said cradling her side. “Wish you had grabbed the first aid kit from the car before you sent it flying.”
“We’ll stop and pick up some things on the way there,” he said. “You sure you’re OK?” he asked his concern clear.
“Yes…dear, I’ll live. My God you act like you’re married to me or something,” she said pursing her lips.
“If you weren’t so much like my God damn sister… I probably would be,” he shot back.
It wasn’t hard for them to find a taxi and before long, they were back at their hotel room. There was no chance of the police catching them they used other false identifications to check in as Mr. & Mrs. Rochelle. Once they were in the room Olivia went into the bathroom and unzipped the dress letting it fall to the floor. She then raised her arm and glanced at the wound. As she thought, the bullet only grazed her. The bloody streak down her side looked far worse than it really was. It was enough though to ruin the dress, and her panties. Unhooking her heels she kicked them off happy to be out of them, then removed her blood stained bottoms. Grabbing a washcloth she soaked it in warm water then began wiping the rest of the blood away.
“You ready…” Austin said coming into the bathroom with the medical supplies. For a moment, he stood there rooted at the sight of her naked body. Then he quickly put the container down on the vanity.
“Don’t act so surprised. You’ve seen me naked many times,” she said, sensing his discomfort.
“Yeah I know, but to this day you still drive me nuts,” he said leaving the room.
Grinning, Olivia proceeded to bandage her wound.
Austin opened his suitcase and pulled out a small gray box. He went over and connected it to the telephone then picked up the receiver. Where there usually was a buzzing dial tone, now there was rapid clicking noises. Seconds later, a young woman’s voice answered.
“Number” she said in a sweet soft voice.
“122322,” he spoke rapidly.
“Please wait,” the woman said.
Turning, he watched Olivia emerge from the bathroom. She went over and grabbed her own suitcase. Rifling through the contents she grabbed her clothes and proceeded to dress. She was a stunning woman, in excellent physical shape. She was also one of the top agents the NSA had, but even though she could fly, drive, shoot anything…she had trouble interacting with people. Tonight had been a good example; she was ordered to retrieve the computer chip that was stolen from Cohesion Laboratories. They were a Government run facility experimenting in metallurgy for the defense department. She had been expected to seduce the target and retrieve the chip. More than likely, the man had gone too far, which with most, didn’t take much.
“122322?” the sweet woman answered again on the other line.
“Yes?”
“You are being switched to an ultra scrambled line, please wait,” she said then the line went dead. Moments later the excited voice of his supervisor came on the line.
“What in the hell is going on?” Austin cut him off.
“We should be asking you that! What the hell did you do Nichols?” his supervisor became angry.
“Nothing, we finished the mission, retrieved the merchandise…then had some trouble with local Police. Was there something wrong with our identifications?” he asked.
“What in the hell are you talking about? Identifications…Police…My God Nichols! Do you realize what you’ve done?” his supervisor yelled.
“My job!” Austin yelled his anger flaring.
“Is it your job to waste a half dozen civilians?” the man snapped.
“What in the hell are you talking about?” Austin retaliated.
“You know what I’m talking about…don’t bullshit me! This agency tolerates a lot from its people…but what you did. Christ we won’t be able to hide this one!” the man snarled. “I want to see you and Jordan in my office…pronto!”
 “Phil…” Austin began to say. “…What the hell did I supposedly do?”
 “You really want to hear this? As you already know…you shot up a damn abortion clinic!”
Austin felt his body go numb as the words sunk into his brain. Then, slowly, he set the receiver down staring at the far wall.
“So, what happened, what was all the yelling about?” Olivia asked.
“We’ve been ordered in…I’m going to be charged with murder, Olivia,” he said softly.
“Murder? What the hell for?” she asked.
“I killed six people tonight…and I don’t remember doing it,” he said looking up at her.