Vice Cop Ch. 06

O dear Lord, thought Lexa, what if he recognized her as a cop he had seen on patrol or on the beat. She was aware she had also gained some notoriety for her appearances on TV news, like the time she had an interview with the Mayor of New York City.

"Well as a journalist, I'm everywhere, that's true," Lexa continued, "but please hurry, I don't want to be late for the interview."

"So who are these folks you're interviewing?"

"It's none of your business."

"Geesh, sorry. A guy can't be friendly in New York City? I'm just making conversation here."

"I don't care to make conversation with you."

"You think you're all that because you're a Manhattan broad right? You think I'm some loser from the Bronx with only a high school education whereas you, you're hot Harvard stuff."

"You are taking things completely out of context. I told you I'm not going to make conversation because I don't feel like it."

"Alright, don't worry about it. Here we go. This is the place. Are you getting off or are you coming home with me?"

"Fuck off."

Lexa's nerves were shot. In her utter annoyance at the cab driver's questions, she paid him and gave him the finger. She felt like a New York City girl every time she did that though she tried to avoid doing things like that as best she could. The cab driver rolled away back to the street and she stood by the entrance of the hotel long enough to see the three Arabs coming out of their own cab. She looked at them closely. They had an expression of cold hauteur about them, and arrogance. Everywhere they looked, they regarded what they saw with silent hatred. They had to be terrorists, she thought, secretly despising the American way of life. They were in Manhattan, close to what they must have viewed as the seat of capitalism - Wall Street and the World Trade Center. Lexa called Hudson on her device.

Hudson had finished hot dog and was finishing a soda when he picked up his device.

"Yo, Lexie, what's going on?" he said to her.

"These guys are definitely the terrorists. They have such an evil gleam in their eye and yet they can easily pass for white Wall Street folks. The girl, especially, looks very white."

"Yeah, I've seen some Middle Eastern looking girls like that who look very white. It's very odd. They're beautiful women, too."

"This is definitely not the time or place to talk about pretty women, Hudson," she said.

"Sorry babe. Ok, so where are they?"

"They're entering the Waldorf Astoria Hotel."

"You'll have to check in too, Lexie. It's part of your job. Try to keep track of them while you're there. Don't lose this device like you told me you did in Atlantic City."

"I didn't lose it. The damned serial killer with the hook threw it away from me once he realized I was a cop."

"Just don't let anything happen to it so we can keep in touch. Be careful Lexie. I'd hate to see --"

"Yes?"

"I'd hate to see one of my fellow officers hurt."

She smiled. That was the nicest thing he had ever said to her.

"Likewise," she said,"though you're right. I'm in more danger right now than you are. Ok, I'm out.

NINE

The Waldorf was elegant and sedately beautiful, impressing Lexa with its luxurious décor from marble floors to pillars, chandeliers and antique looking furniture. And that was just the lobby. She figured the rooms were expensive and equally as lovely. She had not counted on these folks going to such an upscale hotel. She did not have the money to stay in a place like this on her own salary. It was crowded inside. The guests of the hotel were still in town for the New Years celebration that had just ended. Many were checking out already.

Lexa looked as the terrorists checked into the hotel. She hated to have to do this but she figured she'd have to pay to stay in this place, even though it would be quite the expense. After the Arabs had gone and went up an elevator with their briefcases and luggage, she waited in line to check in.

She realized that she looked like she was only going to stay for one night and she hoped that would be long enough........

She paid for one night and insisted on having the room next to the three "Middle Eastern folks" whom she lied about saying they were friends. The front desk believed her and she had a room next to their on the third floor. Lexa O'Neil took a good look at the room. Never in her life would she have believed she'd be in such a nice hotel. She had once been to the Plaza with her mother but that had been years ago when she was a little girl.

Now, she was a grown woman and making money the hard way, working as a cop. Her mother did not know about the undercover work she did and Lexa never bothered to tell her for fear that she might give her a heart attack or cause for concern. She just said she was a uniform cop and that she was strong enough to handle it.

Lexa ordered tea brought up to her room and she sipped it while trying to overhear what the Arabs next door were saying. She put her head against the wall to hear more closely.

"Adil," said a strong masculine foreign voice, "don't touch that remote control. There is noothing but filth on American television. Besides, we can't lose focus."

"When do we strike?" said the female voice, with a cold edge to her voice.

"That's what I was going to say next, Sadira. We will detonate the bomb on the Empire State Building tomorrow at noon."

"Perfect time for it," said the other man," the time has come for us to do God's work and bring down the Great Satan."

Lexa could not believe her ears. Their wicked intentions couldn't have been expressed more clearly. She immediately called Hudson to let him know.

* * * *

Sadira and Omar were lovers and they had been terrorists since the mid 70's, having begun doing this type of crime against humanity in Israel, Egypt and their own native Iran. They were not anything that made spectacular headlines, as they worked independently and not for any major terrorist organization. They were trained by other terrorists and they formed their own trio, hoping to gather a following. They considered themselves Muslim but they were of a radical and apostate branch, one that was very rare and unheard of.

Their actions were not triggered by religious fervor but their own deep-seated hatred against Western civilization which they saw was evil. Adil was Omar's brother and he had also followed in the same path. They had both been in the United States since the beginning of the 80's and had seen enough traveling from California, Texas, Florida and then up to New York to believe that Americans were nothing but lazy, egocentric, capitalistic pigs who also flexed their muscle as world police, like a sort of empire without calling it an empire.

Sadira was slowly undressing by a dim lamplight in the hotel room while Omar, fully nude was watching her. Adil had fallen asleep on the couch. He tended to sleep heavily and he was completely unaware of what was going on in the room. Since they had been teenagers, Sadira and Omar had been lovers. Adil, who was Omar's brother, had always been jealous of their relationship. Sadira had slept with Adil only once out of pity but she regarded Omar, the leader, to be the perfect model of manhood.

TEN

As Sadira disrobed, she watched her reflection in the mirror. Being unaccustomed to doing this, she was fascinated by the whole thing. It was as if she was seeing her own naked body for the first time. She found it very amusing and kept a smile on her face. She had a beautiful curvaceous body- great legs, ass and breasts - and she had been a proud virgin for a long time, even denying Omar the pleasure of taking her maidenhood until they both turned twenty.

Since then, she had always enjoyed sex with Omar, which was nothing but brief couplings on a bed or on the floor. They had made love in every hotel room they had stayed during their travels across America. Whenever they remained in one particular state, and rented a small home, they had lived as a couple despite being unmarried. They had never married in Iran and they did not wish to marry in America, fearing that they would consequently become American themselves in doing so.

Omar was himself enjoying Sadira undress. She had stripped naked and her black, dull dress and blouse were in a pile on the floor along with her underwear. She continued to gaze into the mirror as if mesmerized, and she began to touch her own flesh. She was now aware that Omar was watching her for she could see him from the mirror glass. Shamelessly, she proceeded to arouse herself through touch. Her hands caressed her own shoulders as if giving herself a massage. She kept her eyes open, entranced by what she was doing. She knew that if she did this sort of thing back in Iran she would have been severely punished. Omar knew it too, but since they were not in Iran, and they were spending the night in the Waldorf Astoria in New York, far from prying and judgmental eyes, they felt free to indulge in perversion.

Sadira's hands moved down her neck and navel and downward to her breasts. She had plump breasts, with rosy and big nipples. Sadira was one of those Middle Eastern women who looked Anglo, and her body was creamy and white, another reason which many men back in Iran lusted after her. Omar was now beginning to feel a tightening in his crotch and he grunted softly as Sadira continued to masturbate. Her nipples were now pebble-hard and she moved her hands ever downward.

Her playful fingers slipped into her belly button, and she giggled as if she was tickling herself, but she was discreet not to make too much noise. Closing her eyes, she rested her own hands over her pussy. It was a small, tight, hairy pussy that was now pink with arousal. She kneaded her pussy like dough, rubbing slowly and sensually, rocking her hips on the chair. She was now moaning, softly and seductively, a cry for sex. She hadn't had sex with Omar since they had been in Boston, sometime before they came to New York City.

Omar's cock was getting hard. He had already undressed for the night but had been waiting for Sadira to finish dressing and go to bed. They would have just fallen sleep without making love but because Sadira had lingered undressing and was now masturbating, it was clear that she wanted to make passionate love. She closed her eyes and fingered her own pussy, inserting two fingers deeply into her pussy, shoving them in hard into her own moistness. She moaned and writhed on the chair, throwing her head back, lost in her pleasure.

After she reached climax, she tried to steady her breathing. She turned around to see Omar. She loved him. He was considered quite the handsome man in Iran, almost princely. He had a strong body, huge chest and arms, sturdy legs and glossy dark hair. Since being in America, he had taken to shave off his once heavy beard and body hair. His dark brown body looked like that of a Hindu. He had once told Sadira that he was descended of royalty. Perhaps more than his body, Sadira was drawn to his ideals and his mind. He was his own man and followed no one, not any Shah, not even Saddam Hussein who had taken over their own country and gathered followers.

"I'm sorry, Omar," she said to him, "my need for lovemaking is huge tonight. I crave you. I want your kisses and tongue on my body. I need your cock. I need you inside of me in a slow manner."

She thought that by saying this, the first time she ever expressed herself as fully as she could, he'd understand her need for more intimacy and not sexual violence.

Fully erect and stroking his cock slowly, Omar let her know that he was not after the same thing.

"Come here, Sadira, suck my cock," he commanded.

Sadira was used to taking orders from him and she knew that even if this was all he wanted for tonight, she'd have to live with it. She had been trained to be submissive to a man.

With Omar, it was always the same. He was the Shah, and he was in charge. He had loved other women, even after declaring his love for Sadira but she could not express her feelings of anger or disgust at his faithlessness. She was a concubine in his unofficial harem. She was just glad he had no sexual preference for white American women. Still, she wished Omar could make real love to her and pay attention to her own needs. The only thing she envied about the American women she saw around her was their ability to get what they wanted from men. She took a deep breath and approached Omar.

Instantly, she was on her knees, crouching on the floor while Omar sat in bed. She took his cock into her hands, caressing and stroking the shaft to make it even harder. Omar let out a groan and as soon as she began to take his cock into her mouth, he was overly excited. It was a problem for him -- he ejaculated too quickly. But tonight, Sadira knew how to keep it hard. She continued to suck his cock, deeply, slowly, hungrily while he threw his head back and moaned and grunted at the bombardment of pleasure.

His cries awoke Lexa who was asleep in the next room. She was disoriented at first and had forgotten she had payed for a room at the Waldorf. Upon remembering what she did, she felt a little discomfort. The room was very expensive and the whole thing bothered her because she had payed with her own money. Being a cop, all that mattered was doing her duty and paying the bills. She had no time for luxuries. She remembered that the terrorists were in the next room and she was now aware that they were making love. She shuddered at the thought, remembering how there were two men and one lady. They could be having a threesome.

As Sadira continued to suck Omar's well-endowed cock, he felt nearly ready to release his cum. He grabbed her hair fiercely and fucked her mouth with his cock, slamming it down her throat. His cries woke his brother Adil who had been sleeping on a chair. He looked at them and caught Omar's gaze.

"Avert your eyes, brother," Omar said to him.

Used to following orders from his brother who was the leader, he shut his eyes tight and tried to go back to sleep. Omar's cock erupted with cum, which Sadira swallowed. She did this slowly, as if taking pleasure in it, but she hoped that afterward Omar would make slow, lingering love to her and return the favor by giving her oral too.

There followed a moment of silence as Omar's breathing slowed down. He was still moaning and he stroked his cock to make it hard again. They still had the rest of the night ahead of them. Sadira looked behind her to the bed. Roaring like a wild animal, Omar threw himself on her from behind and had her in an arm lock. She felt hurt by his fierce hold and trie to struggle.

"You're hurting me," she said to him.

"Shut up. I'm going to fuck you in the ass."

"No, please," she protested.

Savagely, he threw her on to the bed where she sprawled herself on her stomach, not out of a need for it but by automatic reaction. She was still trying to break free, as if she intended to run out of the hotel room.

"Stop moving, stop moving," he shouted, "I'm going to fuck you in the ass and I don't care if you like it or not."

His already hard cock begam to slip into her asshole. He shoved it inside roughly, grunting loudly as he did so and keeping his arms around her neck. He pounded into her ass furiously, quickly, bent on achieving his orgasm in no time. His hard thrusts made her scream out more in pain than pleasure. The bed shook as if there was an earthquake. He pulled her hair and she screamed out for mercy.

"Shut up, you whore, you'll wake up Adil."

His hips smacked against her ass as he continued to fuck her in the ass, keeping her quiet by covering her mouth with his hand. After a while, he shoved her face over a pillow which she screamed into. To add to her torture, he didn't seem to be ready to cum like she thought he would.

In the adjacent room, Lexa could hear the intensity of the sex and put two pillows over her ears. Would these damned terrorists never stop fucking? It would be dawn before long and she knew she was in great need of sleep if she was to catch these two tomorow.

Finally, Omar reached his orgasm and he ejaculated like a fountain over her ass and legs, belting out a hefty scream. He lay on top of her, spent. After a moment of pause and relaxation, they went to bed. Omar fell asleep almost immdediately but Sadira kept her eyes open, eyes that were wet with tears.

ELEVEN

Lexa was on the phone in her hotel room, communicating with Chief Barry Hiller. She had finished taking a shower and was in a towel. The morning sunlight streamed through the window, whose drapes were now open. She had money to spend on a standard room only, and even that had cost much. Above her Queen size bed was an elegant, small chandelier, looking like something out of a French mansion from the 19th century. The heavy phone she was using was antique-looking, its body coated with a pastel pink patina and the receiver in gold. It had a circular dial like from the 1930's that required the caller to insert the finger on the little holes to dial numbers. Lexa had ordered breakfast from room service and ate quickly, knowing she had much to do that day.

"Hello, Chief, this is Lexa O'Neil," she said to him, "I'm at the Waldorf Astoria -- "

"The Waldorf Astoria?" the Chief said in completely surprise," what on earth are you doing there, Miss O'Neil?"

"I didn't want to do it but I was compelled to on account of the terrorists," she replied, "they are three of them. Two brothers, Omar and Adil and a woman, Sadira. Their leader is the one called Omar."

"They stayed at the Waldorf last night?"

"Yes. I'm in the adjacent room. I overheard them talk about their plan to blow up the Empire State Building."

"I knew it! I've been hearing rumors that one day someone would want to do that," the Chief said.

From her end of the receiver, Lexa could hear that he was chewing gum. Lexa considered the Chief to be competent, but odd. He was always doing something that was very unlike her image of a powerful chief of police, like chewing gum or eating candy or watering flowers. She wondered if he was a closeted homosexual. There was no evidence for this but many other cops on the force thought he was unusual too.

"Alright, where is Banach? Did he....did he spend the night with you at the hotel? Let me talk to him."

Lexa froze. Why would he think that she wondered.

"No, he didn't spend the night with me. There is nothing between us, Chief," she said flatly, "I think he's an arrogant sexist macho and not my type in the least. As for his whereabouts, I don't know. He was doing surveillance by the Empire State Building yesterday all day. I was doing the same by Wall Street but then these terrorists took a taxi from there and came to the Waldorf. They are plotting to detonate a bomb on the Empie State Building at noon today."

"We must act quickly. If you can reach Banach, tell him that the next step is for you to go to the Empire State Building yourselves and catch those damned terrorists before they even get the chance to blow up anything."

"Alright, Chief," Lexa responded, "I'll alert Hudson and we'll keep in touch in case we need more men."

"You'll always need more cops," said the Chief," this is a big mission. I'll talk to the Bomb Squad and our FBI connections. Good luck, Miss O'Neil."

She hung up the phone. She braced herself. She knew that it was going to be a dangerous day. She dressed in the same "journalist" type of conservative wear, which she felt made her look a lot like Barbara Walters, and walked slowly to the front door. She opened it slightly but not fully, trying to see if the terrorists had already left their room.

At that moment, the terrorists exited the room. It was about nine in the morning, so they had overslept. She made sure they didn't see her by hiding behind the door which was open just a crack. They were dressed in yesterday's clothes again -- the Wall Street suits, and the girl in a conservative business suit much like Lea's own. They had stern faces and kept quiet, whispering everything they said.