A Life Not My Own Ch. 03

He waved me off and the five of us took our dismissal and made a break for the car. The Major traveled along but kept quiet, studying the group of us out of the corner of his eye. Only when our limo took off did the beating begin and due to the possibility of listening devices I had to take it.

The tourist hotel they brought us to was nice – really nice and that was because Harrow built it, staffed it, and guarded the borders from unwelcome eyes. The staff was Moluccans of the Christian variety which Winnie told us means Harrow has his own fanatically little army that the locals couldn't get to as the Moluccans were raised on sectarian warfare with their Muslim neighbors.

It also means if someone liquidated the current Sultan, the locals were coming straight here and murdering the lot of us; and you wonder why this was not a #1 tourist destination. Jensen and Winnie swept the room while Lydia and Echo searched for video surveillance. We had a camera in one of the three shower heads plus five others spread out around the place.

I was busy checking the dimensions of the rambling suite – not for secret doors but to figure out where the audio and visual dead zones were. I also spotted three locations where outsiders could make maximum use of enhanced audio devices. I used my infrared laser and nifty IR goggles (really just sunglasses) to spot the one guy using one expensive bell shaped device on us.

Jensen sneaked across the room to the window so she could see the bastard with her non-violent suppression device aka a sonic gun and fried his ass. I mean his damn thing exploded, he screamed in agony and fell off the shed he was using as his cover. I swear to God, he was fountaining blood out of his ears – it is a horrible sight to behold – non-violent my ass.

We sat around making duck calls for five minutes when poor SOB #2 showed up and this time Jensen let's Lydia work out some just-been-divorced aggression by dowsing the guy in sonic death. We had to stop Lydia from (hopefully) not giving him permanent brain damage because the guy was so wedged into his spot he couldn't fall down thus escaping the line of fire and Lydia was having an 'ex-husband in the sights' moment.

While waiting for round three, we order room service (the tray table wasn't bugged) and dug in because we starved. After a half hour we've determined that they are on to our game and were not willing to toss another staffer on the short term disability list.

The Hotel was a two story sprawling hacienda type place. We were on the second floor at the Northeastern corner, where the building was closest to the beach. We had two king-sized beds and two huge baths linked together with a massive open communal area – the only doors were the heavy wooden main door and the two glass doors in the two showers. Only thin white curtains separate any of the rooms and even the walk around balcony from the outside world and one another.

There was no defending this place so our thoughts went to an exit strategy. Running into the building for the stairwell was suicidal because while the walkway was broad, the railing was a frail wooden weave; hardly bulletproof. The women made the calculated decision that we needed to jump off the northern-most balcony into some thick, if prickly, bushes.

The first two of us were going to take light blankets to build a cushion for the rest of the team. The plan was for Lydia to go first, to see if the drop was doable. I'd go next, because I was the most important (in their opinion – also I'm a lousy shot) person, followed by Winnie (we needed her language skills), Echo, and Jensen (she was our pilot but she was also our greatest combat veteran). I impressed the FBI girl when I did argue, along with Echo, that Echo should have been last.

Our argument was cut off by our door being key-carded and Eloise stepping in. She was packing an AKM tonight with a fashionable addition of boots, jungle camouflage pants, shirt and cap, with a light ballistic vest providing a post-apocalyptic air. She packed a shoulder holstered weapon and a boot knife. Her eyes swept the room and I rushed her. I thought Echo barely missed cold-cocking me with her pistol as I moved past her.

It took some serious control for Eloise to a) not shoot me and b) not go hand to hand when I hugged her.

"Hey, it is good to see you," I greeted the stiff girl. I looked past her into the eyes of Michael Harrow.

"Hello Michael, thank you for the nice room," I smiled. "When does construction finish?"

"You are not getting any more doors, Dominic," he stated. I released Eloise who flowed around me and checked out the room. I back-pedaled toward Winnie (on the left) and Lydia (on the left). Michael was amused by my attempts at security.

"It is a bit late to be worried," he looked down at me. "Do you have a backup plan?"

"Nope," I shrugged as two ladies dressed identically to Eloise entered. The last one in shut the door without taking her eyes off us.

"Perhaps you believe your – seasoned – help will compensate for you miscalculation," he grinned.

"Wait, are you making aspersions to that fact that every lady with me is 28 or older while every one of yours has recent experience wearing Huggies?" I faked being confused.

"I thought we settled our differences concerning you and your irreverent attitude," Michael stepped up and got ready to...hug me; okay 'man-hug's me with a painful trio of slaps on the back.

"The Sultan loves you," he laughed because seven women were about to spew death around the room and he found the death of underlings to be completely amusing. "That gift was spot on and you beat all the odds when you arranged for your girls to get their guns into the audience hall. Did you really threaten to kill yourself?" He found that terribly amusing too.

"Missed ventilating my skull by .43 seconds; Lydia realized that I'd entered a fugue state – all I could hear was the countdown – and yanked my arm up right on time," I replied.

"Lucky me," Harrow was being down right jovial at my expense.

"That has yet to be determined; you told Brad you wanted to send some more business our way," I tried not to sound pissy but I was approaching both my terror and bullshit limit.

"We will talk in the morning," Michael snorted. "I wanted to make sure you had settled in okay and no one had misdirected you to someplace unsavory."

"Speaking of unsavory," Echo chimed in, "we found a truckload of your bugs on our plane," she told Mr. Harrow. The misogynist ass-fuck turned on my – well, not my lady, but still.

"I need him," Mike indicated me, "but what makes you think you can talk to me this way, or at all? Dom, you have a problem in your stable; correct it." Oh yeah, that was going to happen. At least in civilization, Harrow was somewhat constrained. Out here in the Wild, Wild East, he was totally off the reservation.

"Echo, who told you that these bugs were Mr. Harrow's?" I asked.

"You did Sir," Echo snapped off her reply.

"You aren't overly educated but you have good criminal instincts," I continued, "Was I simply wrong or was there a reason I would hold Mr. Harrow responsible?"

"One of his underlings used his equipment without his knowledge or consent," she grinned feral-like at Michael. "This has to be the case because you ARE the smartest man in the room."

"What makes you think one of my people had your plane bugged, Umstead," Harrow simmered.

"Umm...you've spent fifteen years dealing with the meanest, dirtiest, most paranoid motherfuckers on Earth, Michael. Someone close to you would gladly spend a few thousand euros to make sure for you that I'm not your run-of-the-mill scumbag – it is simply good business," I told him. "Someone took initiative.

"I don't tolerate those kind of activities against my associates – besides, if I want to know where you are all I need to do is ask," Michael tossed the ball back in my court.

"True enough," I agreed. "So it has to be someone who knew I was coming and since Eloise knows me better than that – right Snow White? – it has to be one of the two new girls."

Eloise gave a slip of smile before anyone on her side could catch the gesture.

"Echo – gun please," I requested of my closest 'bodyguard'. She hands me her .44 which I examine, weigh then hand back. "I'm not hunting a water buffalo; give me a weapon I can use." She handed me the 9mm at the small of her back. She made sure a round was chambered and the safety was off.

"Michael, that brunette with that ponytail has been eyeballing me since she came in," I pointed out. "Let me talk to her for a second, if you please."

"Knock yourself out," Michael's eyes flowed from me to his doomed hireling. Of course the girl had been eying me because Echo was at my side.

Lydia was behind me and to the right, partially shielded by us. The second brunette was eyeballing Winnie and Eloise was doing the same with Jensen. Michael knew this too but was unleashing me on his girl anyway. Proving she was a human being despite her icy exterior, her eyes grew wide when I walked within eight feet of her, raised the gun and aimed it at her head.

I'd never shot a gun at another person before and this was the second time I'd held one – not only today but ever. By the look on the girl's face she'd realized this too.

"Do you have a name?" I asked her.

"Dee Harrow," she answered in a clipped tone. My mind was racing; I thumbed the hammer back then I let every other distraction fade away and broke my world down to statistics, math and input. It suddenly seemed far too easy to simply snuff a life out – at eight feet. I aimed for a spot right below her left earlobe, I winked with my right eye, watched her eyes expand and I pulled the trigger firmly back.

I missed which meant I actually hit what I was aiming for.

"Fuck," I snapped. "I can't believe I missed her at this range," I flipped the safety on. "She flinched. She flinched to her right so she must not be the one. Maybe someone overheard the four of you; it doesn't matter." I walked back to Echo and handed the gun back to her, pistol grip first.

"With more data," I told Michael as I faced him once more, "I'll figure out who did this, I promise you. Winnie, can you give Mr. Harrow the liquid nitrogen container with the devices in it. He may be able to follow up on other leads." Winnie nodded and padded off quietly to get the cylinder we stashed all the bugs in.

She dropped it off in front of Eloise because that route kept her the farthest from Harrow. Harrow may not even have noticed her; his eyes were waiting for mine to blink.

"How's the tongue?" I inquired about the wound I gave him in our first/last fight.

"How are ribs?" he snorted at me instead of answering my question.

"They only hurt when I breath...or sleep...or have sex; I'm okay when I eat," I replied deadpan. I was not so much a macho-asshole that I couldn't admit I'd done a dumb thing and paid the price. Harrow slapped me in the upper arm.

"Watch over him ladies," Harrow joked while keeping the stare-down going, "I have plenty of uses for Mr. Umstead and I'm going to be truly pissed if he dies before his time. I hope we understand each other. Night Dom."

Over his shoulder he tossed Echo her stress ball which she caught with insane ease. Was I just clumsy or what? He turned and left, Dee going out first then Michael, the second brunette and finally Eloise lifting the LN container and backed out and shutting the door.

"Dominic, remind me to kill you after we have sex," Winnie took a deep sigh.

"Me, first," Jensen upped the ante.

"In case anyone missed it, he's my boyfriend," Echo became aggressive which I best associate with near death experiences and now gun play.

"We need to establish one thing right now," Winnie got her authoritative gears grinding as well. "Lydia, I am aware of your current situation, but after watch Harrow tonight, we all need to understand how he sees us."

"How is that?" Jensen sounded concerned. "I was only joking about the sex thing, by the way."

"I'm not and we need to examine that there are three games in town," Winnie continued. "We are Dominic's bitches, Harrows passing distractions, or playthings for the every cock-sucking piece of filth on this island. Free-wheeling women, in charge of our own destinies, aren't an option; we don't have enough bullets."

"Not that I'm dismissing your view but what makes you think it is this bad," Lydia closed up with the rest of us.

"The majority of the Islamic world is moderate to conservative where women are concerned; then you have your garden variety fundamentalist – they will cut a woman's head off or beat them on the souls of their feet with rods for things we consider trivial."

"Then you have these guys; women are property/slaves and rarely let out of their homes unsupervised. Worse, these men are societally allowed to molest rape and even murder unescorted women. If we can't convince these bastards that we are Dom's women they will expect us to lie down and get raped by them and their friends," she finished.

"If you want to rely on Dominic to look at you as if you he's had sex with you and loved it; go right ahead. I want to spend Christmas with my family on Cape Cod, so unless he fights me off, I'm making love to him," Winnie stated. There was a pregnant pause.

"Listen, I can become very adept at showing affection to all of you, so this won't be necessary," I pledged; the last thing I wanted was forced sex and the resentment that followed.

"Dominic, outside of Stephanie and Echo, how many women have you had sexual relations with," Lydia pressed me.

"You mean sex-sex?" I felt my throat tightening; "none."

"Oh God," Jensen groaned hopelessly.

"Dominic, I was the second woman you ever slept with...I mean," Echo was almost in shock, "you seem so skilled – confident."

"He reads," Lydia's voice regained some of its true playfulness, "a lot and that seems to include more porn than we had considered." I didn't deny it; three of those women could interrogate me into next week and the other one, Echo, had romantic issues to work through with me.

Jensen tilted her head and regarded me intently.

"What do I like sexually, you freakish savant?" she insisted I figure out. Later Winnie told me my lips moved as if I was whispering a hundred numbers and words at once. I thought of everything I'd seen; SA Furst's moves, speech, word choices, looks, how she sat, walked, glances at and what she looked at on me. I couldn't believe I'd never thought of that before; my mind was boggled.

"Double Penetration?" I guessed. I was not really sure where that came from but I thought she liked to wiggle her ass in a seat yet she liked presenting her standing body with hips spread and legs wide open suggesting vaginal sex. She didn't smack her lips much or swallow even when I was naked; so not an overwhelming preference for oral.

Jensen had clearly done undercover work before because I was not sure if this educated calculation of mine was on the money.

"You; Jensen," Lydia gasped. "I would have never guessed it." Jensen turned and stormed off to the far bedroom.

"What about me?" Winnie pinched my left triceps. Fuck it all; that hurts.

"I'm not a damn circus monkey!" I screamed at her. I'd found my emotional limit and it was in the look of betrayal in Jen's eyes when I opened my mouth. Jet lag certainly didn't help.

"Hey," Echo wrapped me in her arms from behind and spoke lovingly, "none of us feel you are a freak, or that you are not one of us Dominic. You aren't ready for this but here we are and we will help you as much as we can."

"We are going to go crash in the other bed tonight," Winnie took Lydia's hand, "you two de-stress and we'll crawl in before sunrise."

"Good night," Lydia kissed Echo then kissed me on the rebound. "We've all been in worse situations than this."

"You are lying to me," I sighed. "Statistically speaking, if all four of you had done this before, there is no way all four of you would volunteer to repeat the experience. Winnie, I need to know; did the leak that brought you here come from 'N' or 'C'?"

"Someone Noisy," Winnie answered. I looked at Lydia who was looking at Winnie; she nodded that she believed Winnie was telling the truth.

That meant that the NSA had illegal or semi-legal taps on Pierce and Pierce communications. I hated FISA. As far as I'd been able to discern, 'I think something might be going on' was reason enough for that secret court to have any federal agency violate my civil liberties. I was right back to the prep school honor code system I despised so much except this time the bully was the largest single employer in the United States.

"My family and Cindy got pissy about who could come along," she tried to impress me with the fact that the CIA (Cindy) and the State Department both wanted any part of this mess.

"Your lack of common sense is appalling Winifred," I muttered. Strangely, she leaned in until we were face to face.

"This is my profession Dominic," she whispered. "You are doing this out of love, which is a motivation I don't see enough of. Did you really go to school with my brother Peter?"

"Yes, I got regular swirlies from him and his buddies Sydney and Mark Burgess for over a year; if I was a petty man I'd take out that anger on your pretty body," I said.

"If it is any consolation, he's been kicked out of two colleges to date and is on his third," she smirked, "and both mom and dad aren't happy."

"He was bright enough but never wanted to exert his brain to accomplish things he could do by physical force or his social status," I recalled.

"I don't remember seeing you there," she confessed.

"I remember seeing you," I told her. "Why didn't you and Benjamin Corbin stay together?" The polite answer was to tell me that it was none of my business but she saw something in the reactions of Lydia and Echo that gave her pause.

"Ben and I had some good times, but we were both too serious about our careers," Winnie told me. "He received a posting to Sixth Fleet and I went into the DSS. We never reconnected though I was at his wedding. I didn't know you knew him." Which was to say my name never came up in casual conversation; I would have been stunned if it had.

"There is no tie between us, I just remember the name and an article I read a year back about him," I said.

"Work on your lying skills, Dom," Winnie scolded me. I shouldn't have bothered.

"Ben is the most important man in Dominic's life; only Ben doesn't know it so let it remain that way, understood?" Echo threatened. Winnie took a few seconds to nod her assent.

"Bedtime," Echo whispered to me and lead me zombie-like to my bed.

"I need to exercise," I mumbled.

"You will be exercising alright," Echo assured me as she started unbuttoning my shirt. I had a dress shirt, undershirt, dress pants, boxers, boots and socks – far too much clothing in that sweaty environment.

"Come on Dom," Echo started steering us to the closer bed with its flimsy white curtain suspended from the ceiling. "Let's get you to bed."

"Why aren't the rest of you starting to come unraveled?" I asked.

"Every one of us has discharged a firearm in anger, we have all been shot at, and we've been trained for this kind of stress. If we make a mistake, someone pays dearly and we've all had years do deal with this," she tried to comfort me.

"That's a crock Echo," I smiled quirkily. "Sure you make a miscalculation and someone dies. I make a miscalculation and the murder rate goes up a half of a percent – I've done the calculations. Worse for me now, those numbers have faces in the four of you."

"Then don't mess up," she started unbuckling my belt.

"Strip," I teased her about her unsubtle clue to me. I started the disrobing process. Echo got halfway there when she realized that all the girls put their luggage in the other bedroom. She scampered off and I watched her bare butt cheeks dance away – ah, going commando. She quickly came back carrying her gym bag by the strap.