Agent of S.T.A.L.K. in Los Angeles

I extend a happy haunted Halloween to all.

AGENT OF STALK IN L.A is the prequel to AGENT OF STALK IN PRAGUE. Whatever order you choose to read them in, both stories are self-contained, neither betrays the secrets of its sister tale, but I wrote the L.A. story second. PRAGUE was narrated from Clive Mercer's hardbitten point of view, but in L.A. I wanted Mercer described in a softer focus, the viewpoint of a woman. What contrasts could I eke out of the same character in two separate tales? A friend who read the early drafts wondered if the stories were about the same character (my goal). I hope everyone gets a kick out of AGENT OF S.T.A.L.K. IN L.A. and everyone casts their vote for 5/8. Furthermore I hope everyone gets laid this Halloween. Make it a good one!

~~~

Nova Nobarro was willing to drop her panties for Molly's uncle the first time she saw him.

There exists a moment when adults of the opposite sex first meet that they subconsciously decide if they would be intimate with the other person. The decision is neither always mutual nor solely based upon meeting someone; just seeing an attractive person across a room or a street can trigger such a one-sided conclusion.

After Nova actually met her friend's uncle she became doubly certain she'd fuck his brains out, given the chance.

His relaxed cat-like economy of movement turned her on. He gave off an aura of great strength, plucked his suitcases off the airport conveyor like they weighed nothing. Nova guessed he stood about six feet tall. Under the black suit he'd be muscular, in shape from exercising. His wavy brown hair and devilish good looks qualified him as one of the most handsome men Nova had ever seen in person. Her eyes stole to the front of his trousers seeking a bulge. She found an impressive one, much more than suitable, on the verge of making her mouth water.

And she adored his sexy British accent.

He asked the curly-haired blonde girl standing beside Nova, "Are you Molly Mae Mercer?" He'd spotted the handwritten sign with 'Mercer' scrawled on it Molly held up in the baggage claim area to incoming passengers for identification purposes.

Her friend responded hopefully, "Uncle Clive?"

"Righto. Goodness, the last time I saw you you were a little girl."

"That had to be ten or eleven years ago at least, I couldn't've been older than nine. I don't remember your hair being as long as it is now."

"Since then I've changed more than you'd want to know." He set down his luggage to give Molly an avuncular hug. Noticing Nova standing next to her, he asked, "This a friend of yours?"

Nova almost blushed when his big blue eyes appraised her. She introduced herself.

"Clive Mercer," he said in return.

He shook her hand politely. Nova would have preferred a hug as well, although delighted Mercer and she weren't relatives. She wished now she'd dressed as revealing as Molly in tight cutoffs and skimpy T-shirt rather than the skirt and blouse she put on that morning at the motel. Nova's skirt was short enough, but she chided herself for not wearing the low cut sweater she'd packed instead with her outfit. Both girls had large breasts; hers were bigger, but Molly laid claim to longer legs. Each of them wore glasses too. Nova should've left hers at the hotel, no matter how many men told her glasses increased her sex appeal.

She'd no way of knowing Mercer would be such a hot guy in spite of being in his early forties, her senior by decades. Had Molly not been around, Nova wouldn't have hesitated luring the older man into her bed. She felt a pleasant warmth building in the damp folds of flesh concealed by the crotchpiece of her thong, which could've been left behind like her glasses. If only she'd known.

Mercer made a good-natured comment about Molly's sneakers (he called them plimsoles). Pink high-topped Converse tennis shoes suited Molly's personality more than hers. But Nova was glad she'd worn high-heeled clog sandals; they improved the way her ass moved when she walked.

"Uncle Clive, these shoes are fashionable here in America," Molly protested. "They're known as Chuck's. I'll buy you a pair as a souvenir of your visit to L.A."

"I'll treasure them all the way to the dustbin, if they're pink!"

"Dustbin?" asked Nova.

Mercer explained, "That's what you Americans refer to as a trash can, Nova."

"Molly didn't tell me you're English, Mr. Mercer."

"Please call me Clive," Mercer requested. "My little brother met an American in England a quarter of a century ago, followed her back to the States and married her. That's why my niece Molly is an all-American girl without an accent."

"You seem familiar enough with America," Nova told him. "Do you live in England?"

"S.T.A.L.K. has me stationed in Prague till the end of the year, then I go back to the U.K. Didn't Molly tell you?"

Nova knew S.T.A.L.K. stood for Supernatural Terminators And Lycanthrope Killers, a notorious European group of bounty hunters somehow sanctioned by the U.S. government. "I know what line of work you're in, tracking down vampires, but Molly only said her uncle was flying in from New York."

"I flew into London from the Czech Republic before crossing the pond to New York. Been in airports or on a bloody airplane for more than thirty hours. I'm positively knackered. Sorry, Nova, that means I'm dead tired."

"You can sleep at the hotel, Uncle Clive. I've already booked you a room, it connects to ours."

That fact delighted Nova too.

"Is it at the same hotel where the Halloween Film Festival is being held?"

"No, and it's not in walking distance either. The Kirkbride in Beverly Hills is a five-star hotel," said Molly.

Nova added, "In other words, Clive, the Kirkbride is way too expensive. We're staying in a La Quinta motel."

"It's like a motor court," said Molly, "It's nice."

"Nice and cheap," Nova said to Mercer. "But it is clean."

He covered his mouth when he yawned. "I don't care so long as it has a bed."

Mercer insisted upon carrying his bags when they begged to help and the three of them headed for the nearest exit in the terminal. He toted his metal Halliburton suitcases as easily as Paris Hilton would a plastic sack of lingerie from a boutique on Rodeo Drive.

He asked, "Molly, were you able to get me any screenshots from the movie since you contacted S.T.A.L.K.?"

"No. But I'm positive the actor in 'Nude Bloodbath' is the guy S.T.A.L.K. knows as Reginald Orr."

"I've been meaning to ask you, that title sounds like a porn film, I couldn't find a bit of information about it in our files or on the Internet."

"Did you just skim my email? I only learned about it through a friend of a friend. The movie hasn't exactly been released yet, Uncle Clive, they only shot it three weeks ago. But it's a fuck flick all right."

"Did you say what I thought you just said, young lady?"

"That's how we talk in Cali in the David Mamet generation. Chill out, I'm twenty one. Nova is . . ."

"Old enough to vote," interjected Nova.

Molly laughed and Mercer rolled his eyes. "Nova, do you talk like my niece too?"

"Me?" Nova innocently batted her eyelashes the way she'd done with exciting males since junior high. "If you're staying with us for the rest of the week I guess you'll find out."

Mercer glanced at Molly. "Do you smoke and drink as well?" he asked with a sigh. His eyes wandered to the tat on her belly of a colorful gecko lizard crawling downward into her panty line. "Is that the only tattoo you have?"

She smiled wickedly. "No, it's just the only one you can see when I have all my clothes on. I'm not a kid anymore, but I don't smoke. Neither does Nova. She has tattoos."

"He won't be able to see them until I wear my bikini at the pool," she announced flirtatiously and Mercer rolled his eyes again.

The veiled risqué conversation and Nova's proximity to Molly's good looking English stud of an uncle caused her to become wet and open; she might have to change into a fresh thong when she got back to the La Quinta.

"Don't be stodgy, Uncle Clive. As I recall you have a tat on your arm, a tiger."

"That's different. I used to be a commando."

"I go commando sometimes."

The girls cracked up when he made a face and said nothing. Mercer seemed puzzled by the Americanism he probably did not understand. Nova planned to provide the definition for him later.

"Little Miss Molly, were you aware your red knickers are in plain sight?"

"Knickers?" asked Nova. "That means panties in England?"

"Panties? Yes, sorry I forgot. Is that in style too, like pink plimsoles and tattoos on females?"

"It's a style called whale tail," Molly let him know. "Isn't it cute?"

"Cute's not quite the word that came to mind." Mercer shifted his gaze from the exposed waistband of his brother's daughter's panties to Nova. "She is kidding me, isn't she?"

"I think you'd prefer your niece showing her whale tail than her going commando."

Mercer nodded in slow comprehension. "No panties! Now I got the idea. I haven't been to America in three or four years."

Nova liked the way he pronounced the words as idear and Ameriker.

The girls replaced their glasses with shades when they walked outside into the glittering California sunshine. After blinking in the October sun for a few seconds Nova saw Mercer put on a pair of Ray Bans. To her, they made him sexier than hell and she noted several women on the sidewalk give him a second look. He might have passed as an A-list leading man.

Molly suggested, "Nova, why don't you bring Uncle Clive up to speed while I run get the car?"

"I can manage, these bags are full but not that heavy."

"We're parked a ways off."

"I'll walk, young lady."

Molly and Nova made eye contact and shrugged. "Fine with me," said Molly.

"I may have one foot in the grave but I'm not an octogenarian I'll have you know."

"You're right, Uncle Clive. Anyway, I ought to know better than to leave you alone with a girl like her."

"Bitch!" taunted Nova.

"Slut!" Molly replied.

Mercer stared at them when they started bantering among themselves. The two girls cackled at him to indicate they weren't being serious.

"I'm afraid we're confusing your uncle."

"'Fraid not, love, I'm not confused, just surprised. The girls in Prague and London talk to each other the same way you do. What I'm pondering is how Molly Mae got to view a porno movie that isn't on the market yet."

"Are you totally sure you want to know?" she asked.

"Of course! This Reginald Orr character is nothing to joke around about. He's killed hundreds of humans."

"Well, if you really want to know . . ."

"I may not want to, but I have to know. I didn't fly halfway around the globe to kill Reggie for nothing, he's been eluding authorities since the second World War. Knowing all the details might give me an edge. Should I need one."

Molly removed her sunglasses and put her regular ones back on as they entered an underground parking lot. "I know some girls who strip for a living and work at escort services when the tips are slow."

Nova said, "Prostitutes, just not the streetwalking variety."

"I quite understand. Go on."

"One of these strippers is acquainted with Sammy Baldwin, the producer of 'Nude Bloodbath.' He gave a private screening at a party of his. The stripper invited me and I went. While I watched the movie I could've sworn I recognized Reginald from S.T.A.L.K.'s most wanted list you email me from time to time."

"And Reggie's supposed to attend this Horror Film Festival?"

"Halloween Film Festival," Molly corrected him. "That's what Sammy told me personally."

"What else did this smut movie producer tell you?"

"He asked if I wanted to audition for his next video. I agreed if he could get me and some friends into the film fest."

"That how you scored us engraved invitations?"

"Hell yeah. This is the first year they're hosting the festival. It's not open to the public, mostly industry insiders and aspiring actresses. Don't look at me like that! Every pretty girl in Cali is an aspiring actress."

"Are you one too, Nova?" asked Mercer.

She exaggerated licking her lips. "Am I not pretty enough?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Lighten up, Clive, I know what you meant."

He asked, "Lord, Molly, you'd actually agree to appear in a porn flick?"

"Don't you think I'm pretty enough? Lose the stoneface, Unk, I'm only teasing. I just told Sammy I'd audition."

"Do you know what auditioning for a porn movie involves?"

"Usually fucking a perfect stranger with a big dick."

"What would your father say?"

"Nothing, because dad doesn't know and you're not going to tell her. I led Sammy on to get us invited, in case you happened to be interested, and sent the email as soon as I went home."

"So you thought I'd be interested in a porn film because of some actor who bears a resemblance to Reginald Orr is in it?"

"That, and the name has to have some significance, I doubt it's coincidental."

"An actor assumes a role, an actor assumes a name. There's probably nothing more to it than that."

"Dismiss it if you like, 'Nude Bloodbath' is not your typical run-of-the-mill porno movie."

"There's only so many variations," Mercer mused. "What is it then?"

Nova said, "She thinks it's a snuff flick."

No one needed to define that term for him.

Molly went on: "It appeared to me the actress Nikki Nookie was actually killed in her scene. Nikki's one of the girls who starred in 'Nude Bloodbath.' I'm friends with a stripper who introduced me to her. At the end of her scene Nikki gets bitten on the neck after she finishes fucking a vampire character, the actor who calls himself Reginald Orr and looks like him. His face isn't featured as much as his, uh, something else is in the movie. But I got one or two glimpses, especially when he put the bite on her, and I never forget a face. I think Nikki's dead."

"Isn't this woman allegedly an actress?"

"Nikki never was much of one. And the blood and the wound in her neck looked authentic."

Mercer still didn't sound convinced. "You never can be sure when it comes to Hollywood. Special effects maybe?"

Nova scoffed, "Special effects in a porn reel? Hollywood films big budget movies. Van Nuys is where the majority of low budget porn is videoed, not that those people take themselves any less seriously than Spielberg or De Niro."

Molly said, "Add in the fact Nikki Nookie hasn't been seen by any of our mutual friends since 'Nude Bloodbath' was shot three weeks ago and the real-life potential gets scary."

Mercer rubbed his chin, thinking. "Did you see the movie too, Nova?"

She frowned and replied caustically, "I wasn't invited to the party."

"You seem so surprised, Uncle Clive. Like I said, I emailed you most of this information."

"Not the part about the snuff flick! What have you gotten yourself mixed up in anyway?"

"S.T.A.L.K. sent you straight to Los Angeles." Molly sulked. "Your boss obviously took me more seriously than you."

"Molly, my boss is a lot more interested than I am in the fifty thousand pound bounty S.O.I.L. is offering for Reggie's demise."

Nova knew about the Supernatural Opposition International League also. Headquartered in Geneva, they funded a lot of organizations like S.T.A.L.K. by offering large rewards for the execution of vampires, werewolves and other assorted monsters.

Mercer was saying, "S.T.A.L.K.'s manager ordered me to fly from Prague to Los Angeles tout de suite. He lives for money and, if I know him, dreams about it."

"Then you didn't believe me, Uncle Clive?"

"Let's say I still have my doubts, sweetheart, and put little credence in the email you sent. Maybe I owe you an apology. What did you tell this so-called movie producer about yourself?"

"That I was an entertainment feature writer with the Berkeley Examiner and I had a friend named Nova who worked in the same capacity for a Catholic publication in Sacramento."

"And me?"

"You're Sir Clive Mercer with the London Times."

"What if he checks out your story?"

"Sammy's a perv, he's doesn't have the snap to do minor research. All he thinks about is hot young pussy 24/7, the younger the better. Everyone knows there isn't enough blood in a man's body to operate his brain and his dick at the same time."

Nova and Mercer's laughter rang through the parking garage.

Molly said, "Sammy's a fucking numb nuts if he thinks he can get in my pants. What he wants most is all the publicity he can get. He thinks he can be the next Pierre Woodman. According to Sammy, the backers want to host the Halloween Film Festival annually and sell seats to the public next year if this first one is a success. He thinks it could catch on like Sundance or Tribeca and he'd be on the ground floor of the next big thing."

Mercer nodded and said, "Who is Pierre Woodman?"

"You never heard of him?" Molly asked.

"No."

"Never mind, you can meet Pierre at the film festival. He's slated to be there with a bunch of other actors and directors."

"Is this festival made up completely of sleazy filmmakers?"

"No, they're just a small part of the guest list, there's plenty of big time industry movers and shakers invited too. Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino are rumored to be making a surprise appearance Halloween night when 'From Dusk Till Dawn' is screened."

Nova chimed in: "Rob Zombie and his wife Sheri Moon are the guests of honor. Rob's bringing a print of 'Halloween II' to run on Saturday night."

"Uncle Clive doesn't know who Rob Zombie is either, Nova."

"Don't be too sure, Molly Mae," said Mercer, "I have the CD of 'La Sexorcisto' in my car. 'Hellbilly Deluxe' too."

The girls stared at him in disbelief and Mercer laughed at them for a change, but they got in the last laugh.

"You ought to be proud of your niece," Nova said. "She faked out a fast-talking porno money man with that newspaper bullshit. We are so in there."

They finally reached the car and Molly dug a ring of keys out of her purse. "Not bad for a tattooed girl who just turned twenty one, who swears and lets her panties show, huh, Uncle Clive?"

Mercer waved a forlorn hand in surrender. During the ride to the motor court he dozed in the back seat. At a stop light Nova saw Molly glance at his reflection in the rear view mirror.

"My uncle's cute when he's asleep."

Nova said in a low voice so not to disturb him: "He's cute when he's awake."

"Do you like him?"

She grinned slyly, which should tell Molly all she needed to know.

"Just remember, my uncle's forty two or three."

"I like older men," Nova spoke very quietly, little more than mouthing the words. "You wouldn't mind if he and I . . .?"

"Hooked up? Why should I care? I'd be envious you got a guy and I didn't."

"Envious, but not mad?"

Molly pitched her voice lower. "Hell no, girl. I wouldn't mind meeting a man as hot as him. If he wasn't---like---my uncle I'd probably hit on him myself."

"If something did happen between him and me you'd really be cool with it?"

"Sure!" Molly said, accelerating when the light turned green. After another glance in the rear view she said, "He needs his suit cleaned and pressed, after all the flying he's done it looks slept in."

Nova glanced over her shoulder at Mercer. "He's sleeping in it now."

"Once we get to the motel he'll definitely crash. I'll take his suit to the dry cleaners then. He's liable to sleep around the clock, when he wakes up it'll be ready for him."

"Surely he brought changes of clothes in those big suitcases of his?"

"I'm sure he did, but I intended to buy him a few presents at the mall anyway, sort of welcoming him to America. Do you want to go with me after I drop his suit off?"

"To tell the truth, I thought I'd take a dip in the pool and have myself a nap. Don't stare at me like that; I won't molest him in his sleep," Nova whispered so the wrong ears wouldn't overhear.