Nightmare in Terror

"Please girl friend, there's too much of that attitude in here all ready," replied Gypsy.

This gave them both a good laugh and they returned to Gypsy's booth before the gathering crowd could snatch it up.

It turned out to be a slow night, but Gypsy left around one with a client and Cody left alone about an hour later.

Back in her apartment Cody wondered where her life was going and if this was how it was going to be for the next twenty or so years. Living this lie, living alone and not much to hope for. She needed more; she needed to put some life in her life and not the kind she'd get from the occasional tranny chaser she'd spend the night with. She took off her makeup, slipped on her purple chemise and crawled off to bed. Maybe tomorrow will be different, she thought. Then closed her eyes and dreamed about sailing the seas in cloud ships.

***

Roberto entered the "O" around one thirty and noticed Cody right away. She was really hot and sexy in her red mini dress, swaying to the sounds of Madonna blasting from the jukebox. He watched her dance alone for about fifteen minutes, ordered another Stoli, rocks with an olive and was about to ask her to dance. As he approached this little vixen, she picked up her purse, said good night to those at Gypsy's booth, and brushed past him on her way out the door.

"Damn," he said to himself.

He asked the bartender about the petite girl in red and she answered, "That's Cody, she's in here all the time."

"Tomorrow night?" he inquired.

"Friday night? Count on it."

Roberto finished his drink and left, but he knew he'd be back tomorrow night. He had his sights set on a new kind of victim.

***

After another fruitless night of tracking dead ends, Agent Franklin and the rest of the team were feeling the effects. It had been three days since the assassination and they all figured Roberto must have skipped town by now. Another battle lost, chalk it up on the bad guy's side of the tote board. A little after 10 AM Franklin told the rest of the group he was going to get some breakfast and a few hours sleep and would be back in the afternoon. He grabbed copies of the computer-enhanced photos, stuck them in his briefcase, and left the office.

He stopped at his favorite mom and pop diner where they cooked his eggs just the way he liked them. Sipping on his coffee he rifled through the morning paper. The news media was having a field day with the affair, expounding on the inability of law enforcement to catch the brazen killer.

He slammed the front page on the table in disgust and picked out the sports section. The Yankees and Mets won the night before and the Jets were close to signing the hot young quarterback they picked in the draft. He felt that there was still some hope left in this topsy-turvy world.

After breakfast, he strolled down Lexington Avenue for some fresh air and maybe a fresh attitude. A couple of blocks later he realized he was dead on his feet and hailed a cab.

Climbing in, he mumbled his address and slumped into the back seat. Checking him out through the rear view mirror, the driver said, "I hope you don't mind me saying this, brother, but you look beat, like you just lost your best friend or something."

"Yeah, something like that," the agent exhausted and let his thoughts return to the illusive ghost he was chasing.

***

Shortly after two, Cody answered the knock at the door. Peering through the peephole she recognized the good-looking young man from their encounters on the steps out front. She opened the door and said, "Yes, what is it?"

She was dressed in black capri length tights under an oversize Cleveland Indians T-shirt that hung just past her butt and black open toed 4" mules, showing off her well-manicured burgundy toenails. She wasn't wearing any makeup and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Even without makeup Agent Franklin marveled at how feminine she looked. Maybe it's just a state of mind, he thought.

"Cody, Cody Daniels?" he inquired.

"Yes, that's me," replied Cody.

"Do you mind if I come in for a few minutes? There is something I would like to talk to you about in private."

Cody thought to herself, "Ok, here it comes, this guy knows what I am and he's either going to make a play or try to get me to change my evil ways and go to church with him on Sunday. What the hell, he is kind of cute."

"I guess so," she said. "Come in."

He entered the room and sat down on the love seat, she in the padded rocker across from him.

"I promise not to take too much of your time, but I have a problem and I think you might be able to help me get to the bottom of it."

"Here it comes," she pondered. But in order to get a few minutes in preparing her response, she asked if he would like something to drink.

"Coffee, black, if it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all, give me a few minutes and I'll be right back."

"Sure, no problem," he replied. He sat back in the cushioned love seat, still feeling the effects of two sleepless nights chasing the wind. He looked around the one bedroom apartment, there wasn't much in the way of furnishing, but it was clean and looked comfortable. Not at all like his place, two floors up, with empty pizza boxes, dirty glasses and silverware adorning the coffee table, just like you'd imagine a bachelor's pad would look like. The air conditioner buzzed a white noise that almost had him back to sleep, when she returned with two cups of coffee.

Handing him a cup, she picked up her pack of Virginia Slims, "Do you mind?" she asked.

"Not at all," he remarked.

Daintily sitting back in her rocker she stated, "Now what's this all about, er, you know I don't even know your name."

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's Franklin, William Franklin, call me Will. I haven't had much sleep the last couple of nights and I'm a bit out of sorts," he smiled.

He had a nice easy smile that emphasized his boyish good looks. It made her feel a little less nervous and she let down her guard a bit, still having no idea what had brought this charmer to her door.

"I'll get right to the point. I'm sure you've heard about the assassination of the Venezuelan Ambassador a couple of days ago," the agent asked.

"Sure, it's been all over the news. But what has that got to do with me?" she questioned.

"Well, I work for an organization who's job it is to find the killer and get him off the streets."

"So you're a cop?"

"Not exactly, I work for the Bureau, in the anti-terrorist division."

Agent Franklin sipped his coffee letting this bombshell sink in. It came out of left field and Cody was stunned for a moment. Not knowing what to say she looked in his eyes to see if she could determine whether he was being truthful or not. She couldn't tell for sure but decided to play along and see where this was heading.

"Ok," she chuckled, "but like I said, what has this got to do with me? And how in the world do you think I could be of any help in finding this person?"

"Well, to be totally honest, I'm not sure if you can. But this guy has been our number one target for the past two years and he has eluded us at every turn. Needless to say we're all very frustrated down at the Bureau and to the point of grasping at straws."

"He sounds pretty slick."

"Oh yeah, he's a master of disguise, speaks half a dozen languages and seems to be able to disappear at will."

He took another sip of his coffee; looking at her face, he could see he had peaked her interest. Maybe this wouldn't be as hard as he thought. Figuring he had laid enough on her for the time being, he changed the subject. "Cleveland Indians," nodding at her T-shirt, "You a fan?"

"I'm from Cleveland, but not really a fan, unless they're playing the Yankees or going to the World Series. I'm more of a Browns fan, football is much more exciting."

He nodded in agreement, still sipping his hot java.

"So back to your problem and what's it got to do with me?"

"Well," he braced himself knowing he had to be careful here so as not to disrespect her life style and consequently alienate her. "It's been rumored that this guy has a thing for individuals such as yourself."

"You mean queens?" Cody assumed.

"I'm not sure what the correct PC terminology is and I don't want to step on any toes. But, yes that's what I mean."

"And you want me to help you catch this guy?" She couldn't help but laugh at this crazy proposition.

"In a word, yes."

"Look at me, I'm all of 5'4" tall, 125 pounds soaking wet, I've never been in a fight in my entire life and I don't even know how to hold a gun, much less shot one. How can I possibly help you catch this guy? I ain't James Bond, hell I ain't even Austin Powers."

"No, no, don't get me wrong," he laughed. "All I would like you to do is look at a few photos and see if you recognize him. He's probably all ready fled the city by now anyway. I'm just trying to substantiate this rumor, which may give us an advantage in our quest to catch this guy. He's really done some bad things, killed a lot of innocent people, blew up a plane in Spain that killed everyone onboard, for what reason, only he knows. We only know him as Roberto, I'm sure he goes by many different names."

They sat there for a quiet moment, both sipping from their cups. She lit up another cigarette and watched the smoke do a crazy dance in the cool breeze coming from the air conditioner. Finally, she broke the silence, "Ok, let me see the pictures, but I can't promise anything."

"Oh, I understand completely and appreciate any help you can give me."

He took the photos from his briefcase, explaining about the computer enhancement and placed the three best-altered images on the coffee table in front of her.

She picked them up one at a time and examined each one against her memory.

"No, I'm sorry but none of them look like anybody I've seen at the bar lately."

She heard him sigh softly and thought he sounded tired. He must not be kidding about the sleepless nights. She felt like she had let him down, dashed his hopes against the rocks of failure. He gathered up the photos, stuffed them back in his case, and finished the remains of his cup.

"Well, thanks for listening to my story and I'm sorry for taking up your time. It was kind of a shot in the dark anyhow. I better get going. It was really nice to finally meet you. I've got to admit I think you're quite lovely and it's too bad it has taken me this long and this situation to finally get aquatinted."

Cody blushed, thanked him for the compliment, and walked him to the door.

"Here's my card, if you think of anything that might be helpful, give me a call."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. Now that we've made our introductions, don't be a stranger; feel free to stop by any time. I'd like to hear how this thing ends up."

"Ok, I'll do that. So I won't say goodbye, I'll just say au revoir."

As Cody started to close the door, Agent Franklin turned and stated, "Oh, by the way, did I mention that the various governments have put up a half a million dollar reward for information leading to his capture?"

"You're kidding, of course," she replied.

"No, I'm serious. But if you do happen to run into this guy, remember he's a very dangerous man, a very bad man. He wouldn't think twice about throwing your lifeless body off some bridge. So don't do anything stupid, call me and let me handle it. That's what I'm trained for, that's what I do." He said flashing his best boyish smile.

"Don't worry, I ain't no hero," quipped Cody. "But, good luck, I hope you catch this guy."

"Me too," the agent responded turning down the hallway to the stairs that lead to the street and back to the office of dead end leads. Since he had left his car at the office that morning, he hailed a cab. Sitting in the back seat, he thought that wasn't too bad at all. She, he found himself referring to Cody as she, was really very pleasant. Maybe he would take her up on her offer and pay her a visit when this mess was over.

Cody closed the door and was somewhat giddy about the possibility of making a new friend away from the inconsistencies that prevailed her life style. He was kind of cute, she thought, and a secret agent too. Maybe things were changing; maybe this was the something she needed to make her life more worthwhile, more real, even though espionage was a somewhat unreal reality in itself. She picked up the empty cups, placed them in the kitchen sink, lit up another Virginia Slim and turned on the news. Now that she had some involvement in the killing of the ambassador, the story seemed much more relevant. She closed her eyes and said for no one to hear, "Half a million dollars, whew."

***

The night had just about taken hold of the city when Cody strolled into the Oyster. She didn't see Gypsy at her usual booth and figured she must have had an early appointment. So she hopped on an empty bat stool, ordered a Long Island Ice Tea and exchanged pleasantries with the bartender and those close. After a half an hour she was ready for another tea. As the bartender placed the alcoholic concoction down in front of her, a voice behind her said, "Let me get this one for you."

She turned to thank the gentleman and at once recognized the face from the photos she had looked at earlier that day. Her jaw dropped as she recoiled in semi-shock. It wasn't exactly like the photos but close enough so that she knew who he was. "Get hold of yourself, don't give it away," she told herself.

"What's the matter?" Roberto inquired.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else. I had a bad experience with some guy in here a couple of months ago and at first I thought you were him. Here in the dark you kind of looked like him at first glance, but he had a moustache," she lied.

"The guy must have been a fool. I would never give you a bad time," he responded, taking her for her word. After all there's no way she could possibly know his real identity.

"My name is Stephan, I'm in town on business for a couple of days and I couldn't help but notice you sitting here alone."

"Pleased to meet you, Stephan. My name is Cody. So where are you visiting from?"

"Detroit. Originally from Portugal, but been living in the states for about eight years. And you, are you a native New Yorker?"

"No, I've been living here for about three years now. I was born and raised in Cleveland."

"I hear that's a good place to be from," he laughed.

"Hey, you're talking about my home town."

"Oops, I am sorry. I was just trying to make a joke, break the ice, you know."

"Oh, that's Ok. It's just that I've heard that too many times and the freshness has worn out."

"Ok, let's start over." He turned a complete circle while standing in the same place and said, "Hi, my name is Stephan and I think you are the sexiest girl in this place."

"That's better, would you care to join me? We can move over to that empty table, it would be easier to talk."

"After you," he declared.

She picked up her drink and they slipped into the empty booth across from the bar. It was still early and the bar wouldn't get wall to wall for a couple of hours. She had to admit that Roberto was quite the charmer, but she had to keep in mind that this man was a cold-blooded killer. After a few minutes, she excused herself and headed to the ladies room to powder her nose. Once she was safely inside she searched her purse for Agent Franklin's business card. It wasn't there, damn; she must have left it on the coffee table. Now what was she to do? If she took off to retrieve it, he would probably be gone by the time she contacted Will at the Bureau.

She quickly devised a plan of action. She would get him to take her to his place and then contact the Bureau and tell them where he was staying. She was almost shaking from nervous anxiety as she sashayed her way back to the booth where he was waiting for her. He had ordered fresh drinks and they were being served as she sat down.

"Are you trying to get me drunk so you can have your way with me?" she smiled shyly.

"That's one of those questions where I lose no matter which way I answer," he declared.

They both laughed at that.

"Care to dance?" Roberto/Stephan invited.

"Ok," Cody replied. They made their way to the back of the bar where the dance floor was filling up. The disco ball was flashing over the faces and gyrating bodies. They were almost touching, as the crush of the other dancers didn't leave them much room to move. Roberto/Stephan was smooth and moved like a pro on the dance floor. He spun her around and under his arm and she came to rest next to him, held close by his strong grip. They danced two songs worth and then Cody said that was enough for now feeling the heat the crowd was producing.

They retired back to their booth but had to kick out another couple that had hijacked it and was playing touchy feely games under the table. After finishing their drinks, Roberto/Stephan suggested they go some place where they could be alone.

"How about your place?" he inquired.

"I can't. My roommate is cool with the way I am as long as I agree not to bring any strangers over, kind of paranoid, but that's what this city can do to you. If you know what I mean," she lied again. "Since you're just visiting, I'm sure you probably have a nice hotel room some where. I find hotel rooms extremely erotic, I can let go and be my wild self without any worries."

Roberto/Stephan hesitated for a moment, but he had become so enchanted with by this little she male fox, he relented and said, "Let's go."

He was staying at one of the nicer, but smaller hotels off Times Square. She had never been there before but knew of it. So far so good, she thought, as they rode the elevator up to the eleventh floor and entered room 1106.

As soon as he closed the door, he grabbed her arm, turning her toward him, kissed her hard on the lips, and started pulling at the straps of her burgundy slip dress.

She broke his grip, stepped back and said, "Slow down, sweetie, we've got all night."

"I just can't help it, you're so beautiful."

"I'll bet you tell that to all the girls," she smiled.

He laughed and said, "Oh, you think you've got me all figured out, don't you." Not knowing that she really did.

He turned on the TV, switched channels to the soft porn station, and muted the set. He then turned out the table lamp that had been the only light in the room.

"Do you have anything to drink?" she asked.

"A bottle of white wine left over from dinner." "That sounds good. Why don't you pour and I'll make myself comfortable."

He returned with the glasses of wine, handing her one. She pulled a joint from her purse and asked if he'd like to smoke some pot.

"I can do that," he responded.

Knowing there was a lot of drug use in the tranny world, he had picked up a small vial of cocaine earlier in the day. He pulled it out of the dresser and offered it out for her inspection.

"Well aren't you the man," Cody vamped, as he poured out a pile on the nightstand. "Is it coke or speed?"

"It's supposed to be coke, at least that's what I told the bellhop I wanted."

She tasted a small pinch and felt her tongue and gums start to go numb.

"It's coke, the real thing," Cody said matter of factly.

"Help yourself," Roberto/Stephan said handing her a rolled up one hundred-dollar bill.

"My experience is that it does nothing to enhance my performance. It makes me go soft, but you can do as much as you like. I will smoke some of that reefer though."

Sitting on the bed, they sipped the wine and smoked the joint watching the muted porn on the television. He put his arm around her, pulled her close and as she opened her mouth to accept his tongue, he exhaled the smoke he was holding in his lungs. She inhaled the smoke and then felt his tongue probing deep into her mouth. She sucked it softly, relaxing from the effects of the pot and the wine, but she was still aware of the position she had placed herself and had to be on guard as to not make any mistakes and blow this golden opportunity. He broke off the kiss and looked into her eyes hoping that the sensual act would enflame her passion.