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

"There has to be more to it than that. Do you not like Latin girls?"

"Of course I do! You're one of the most beautiful, desirable women I've ever met."

"Why not then? Let's make mad, passionate love."

"I can't, Nova."

"That's not true," she purred in his ear. "I know you're not impotent."

"I didn't mean anything like that."

"What then?" she persisted. "Men bend over backward for the chance to share my bed. You're unlike any man I've ever met."

"I have a daughter, a little older than you, from when I was married."

She nibbled at his earlobe. "Excuse me, but I don't see the significance your family plays in this. You're divorced, I'm single and I want you to hold me in your arms. No harm, no foul."

"Nova, my daughter is a vampire, made into one by an incubus. I killed him, but she vanished without a trace. I've been searching for her for eight years."

Nova put her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry to hear that, Clive. But without trying to come off as impolite, that happened years ago. I still don't fully understand why we can't spend some time alone together while you're in town."

"There are other reasons. Hasn't Molly told you any of this?"

"No. Your niece is amazingly close-mouthed about you."

He got up and stared at the wall. "I have to go now."

Nova rose and put her arms around him again. She drew him close and kissed him. Unlike yesterday, he kissed back, but only for a minute before pulling away to break the kiss. She rested her head on his chest.

"I know you want to, you're hard as iron."

Mercer couldn't deny it, but kept quiet.

"You're not married anymore, Clive."

"Are you proposing to me?"

"Don't be silly. I've watched women stare at you everywhere you go. Don't you ever have any girlfriends or think about remarrying since you and your wife split up?"

"Once or twice, but I am married, in a manner of speaking. To my work."

"Which is either horse manure, or you're losing me again, Clive."

"It wouldn't be fair for me to get involved with any woman. My job is too dangerous. I could die tomorrow or the next day. Or next week."

She exhaled noisily. "So could any of us, in a freeway accident or a fire."

"Those are random acts. I deliberately put myself in harm's way day in and day out."

She sat down on the bed. "Okay already, I get it, you're on a mission. But you have to put the mission on hold sometime and sleep. The danger is at bay tonight. Why sleep alone? I could help you relax, it can't be easy sleeping with a hard on."

"That's what cold showers are for."

"How about a nice warm one instead? I'm soaking."

Mercer had to get out of there before she convinced him to spend the night with her. Reluctant but adamant, he kissed her on the cheek and muttered, "You're too sweet and too young a girl to be messing about with me, Nova. I'll see you later."

Mercer crossed the room to let himself out, expecting her to curse him, but she blew him a kiss and said goodnight. He did likewise and closed the door behind him, very gently.

~~~~~~~~~

Nova woke up early and Molly still slept. She stripped out of the T-shirt and panties she'd worn to bed and put on her bikini to swim a few laps in the pool before bathing. Downstairs she saw Mercer with a cup of coffee at a poolside table reading a paper. Engrossed in what he read, he didn't notice her until she spoke his name. He glanced up, obviously unhappy.

Oh shit, thought Nova. "Clive, what's the matter?

"There's a story about the Halloween Film Festival on page one."

"The front page? I wouldn't've thought the festival merited that kind of coverage in the press."

"It's only mentioned in passing. A girl was murdered in the parking lot of the convention center across the street from the Kirkbride." He tossed the newspaper on the tabletop for her to read and sipped from his coffee cup.

Nova scanned the story. "Hit and run. Police ruling it as a homicide."

"Do you recognize her from the picture?"

"No. The paper says her name was Elaine Farris, a pretty girl, only seventeen. That's sad. Did you happen to know her?"

"I saw her enter the Kirkbride with two men last night."

"Under coercion?"

Mercer shook his head. "She was standing with the other onlookers and the men singled her out. I thought it odd. They talked to her briefly and off the three of them went."

Nova read some more of the news account. "No evidence of sexual assault or any mention about two men. Wonder why the police are calling it murder? Do you think there's a connection between her and what you saw occur with the men?"

"Impossible to speculate at this juncture."

"Maybe you should talk with the police."

"I plan on it," he said. "Molly awake yet?"

"Nope."

"As soon as she's out of bed I'll have her drive me to the precinct house."

"Want to take a swim in the meantime?" Nova asked him meekly.

"Already had mine." Mercer set his cup down and folded the newspaper. "I'm going for a shower. If Molly's still asleep when I get to the room I'll wake her up. I have work to do."

He slung a towel over a broad shoulder and strolled toward the motel, Nova observing the muscles of his hips moving under his swim trunks as he walked away, on another mission. Too bad he hadn't taken her up on her middle-of-the-night offer.

She didn't see Mercer anymore after Molly drove him to the cop shop until he appeared at their room just before they left for the festival that evening, dressed in the olive suit and tennis shoes. She'd obsessed over him all day. He didn't tease them tonight about their scanty clothing and stiletto heels and said little during the drive. She lowered the sun visor on the pretext of checking her lipstick in the mirror and watched his reflection surreptitiously. She couldn't tell if he wore the shoulder holster. Just before she raised the visor back into place he slouched over the front seat to say something to Molly and his jacket hung open.

Nova saw the butt of the pistol.

Molly reminded him, "I'm a writer with the Berkeley Examiner and you're Sir Clive from the London Times."

Mercer grunted he remembered.

Nova chirped, "And I'm a cub reporter for a Catholic paper in Sac, eighteen and fresh out of the convent."

"And decked out in a sequined tube top and hootchie shorts," Molly said, before cracking up.

Mercer remained taciturn and grim-faced.

Nova asked him, "Did you get anywhere talking with the police about the hit and run?"

"They took down my descriptions of the two men and told me they'd instruct the harness bulls keep their eyes peeled. When I talked to a Lieutenant Morris in their supernatural investigations department about a possible snuff flick involving a vampire he said he already knew about it per Molly but needed more legal weight to confiscate Baldwin's print of 'Nude Bloodbath' for review than one young girl saying a movie looked 'too real.'"

"Sounds like a wasted day," Nova commented.

"I thought so too, but I don't intend to waste tonight. This afternoon I registered at the Kirkbride, like I should've done to begin with. I'm in suite 607. I'll procure each of you a key card when we get there in case you need to use the room for an emergency or just to powder your noses."

Molly said, "This is the first time I've seen you serious about the festival since you landed at LAX. You sound super pissed."

"Oh, I'm angry all right. Especially about the Farris girl who got killed by a car."

"But Nikki Nookie was murdered too and you weren't pissed off about her death."

"Sorry, Molly, the porno starlet is merely unaccounted for, there's no proof of a murder yet. With Elaine Farris, the cops have a corpse in a freezer."

Nova asked, "Why are you taking the Farris hit and run so personally? There wasn't anything you could've done to stop it."

"I might have been able to do something before it happened last night, but I let a bloody doorman stand between me and something I sensed very wrong. I've learned to trust my gut instincts over the years and had I stopped those two men that kid might still be alive. Elaine Farris was seventeen, the same age as my daughter Stephanie when a bloodthirsty monster changed her into a vampire. The L.A. squad car coppers can keep their eyes peeled from now till kingdom come, but if I see those two chaps in white dinner jackets I'm intend to get some answers, even if I have to shed blood."

Molly said nothing about Mercer's self-righteous anger, but Nova asked, "Is that the reason you rented a $700 suite at the Kirkbride tonight, to have a private place to ask questions?"

Nova blanched watching his face transform to stone.

"Absolutely. And Sammy Baldwin and an actor billed as Reginald Orr just might be paying a visit too."

They arrived and as soon as Molly parked the car, Mercer marched them straight to the Kirkbride. A doorman in uniform barred their way till he stuck his key card rudely under the man's nose. The fellow apologized and let them pass. Maybe in his haste Mercer forgot Molly and she wore slutty outfits, solemnly informing the lady at the front desk Molly and Nova were his guests. Without a hint of a smile, she handed each girl a gold card to swipe in the suite's door lock to enter the room.

On the elevator to the sixth floor he said, "I want both of you to know exactly where my suite is. If you get in a tight spot go there or call me at this number." He read it off to them standing in the hallway and stood impatiently while they programmed it into their cells. Then he demanded Molly and she give him their numbers and keyed them into a cheap, disposable phone.

"Did you buy that today, Uncle Clive?"

"Yes, and ten hours of minutes. My regular mobile doesn't work in America. I want us all to be able to get in touch in the event we're separated. And from here on out, Molly, you call me Clive, not Uncle Clive, especially around anyone connected with the porn world."

Inside the suite Molly asked, "Sir Clive, why are you acting so paranoid?"

"If anything happens to either of you . . ."

"Nothing will," Molly assured him. "You're going to be next to us the whole time, right?"

"Every step of the way. Unless I need to address business matters."

Molly and Nova didn't question what those might be. Inside the suite he drew the big double-barreled chrome pistol out of his shoulder holster for them to see. He warned the silver darts the gun shot had a bad habit of passing all the way through a target and for the girls to stand clear of the line of fire if they saw him unholster the piece for any reason.

"Do you expect to have to kill anyone tonight?" Nova asked.

"I hope not, but if I run into the real Reginald Orr, yes. My signal to you two will be if I call him Reggie, otherwise I'll be using the name Reginald. If you hear me say Reggie though, take cover."

"But, Uncle Clive---"

He cut her off. "It's Clive, or Sir Clive is fine. Don't forget."

"I won't," she said, saluting him.

"Whether he killed Nikki or not, if he's here, I'm gunning him down."

"But---"

"No buts, Little Miss Molly. You want him dead, don't you?"

"Can't you get into trouble for executing a man?"

"A man, yes; a vampire, no." That's altogether different. S.T.A.L.K.'s charter is recognized in Europe and the United States."

"It's a license to kill?" asked Molly.

"More or less," said Mercer. "Any vampire, werewolf, witch, warlock or other supernatural creature is fair game."

"But not human beings," Nova said, "Even if they are wearing white dinner jackets."

"Correct," he stated. "S.T.A.L.K. gives me, in essence, the rights of a lawman. I can arrest people." He replaced the pistol in the shoulder holster. "Tonight wouldn't be the first time."

"Don't get yourself into any trouble, Clive."

His smile was forced. "And you do the same, Nova. You too, Molly. Are you ladies clear on what you can expect?"

They said they were.

"Then let's get hold of this Sammy Baldwin chap."

"Remember I couldn't reach him yesterday by phone." Molly asked, "Do you know where to find him?"

"Oh, he's here. In the penthouse, also known as the seventh floor of the Kirkbride. His party is registered in suite numbers 700, 702 and 704."

Molly wanted to know how he knew.

"Easy. I asked to be put through to him after I checked in. He apparently wasn't taking any calls at the time, but the desk provided me the suite numbers. Why don't you call him on his mobile again, Molly, and tell him you're here."

She loosened the drawstring of her tiny handbag. "He didn't answer last night."

"That might be because he was on an airplane. I found out this afternoon from various contacts sympathetic to S.T.A.L.K. that Baldwin's been in Brazil, possibly scouting new talent. His party didn't check into the Kirkbride today until one o'clock."

Nova said, "You've been a busy boy, no wonder we haven't seen you all day."

"I told you this morning I had work to do."

Cocky bastard, thought Nova. But she didn't mind.

Molly had dialed Baldwin's cell number while she talked to Mercer. "Hi, Sammy!" she said. "My friends and I---like---just got here. Do you want us to come to your room?" She paused. "That's wonderful. What's your suite number? Okay, yes. Yes, they're dying to meet you. See ya, ciao."

"What's the good word?"

She tucked her cell back into her purse. "He's here like you said. Right now he's in suite 704."

"Let's wait ten minutes, don't want him to think you're inside the hotel. Did he mention anything about the screening of his movie?"

"Nada. He said he flew in from South America this morning."

Nova saw Mercer get a look on his face and, after a moment, realized what puzzled him. "Nada means nothing in Spanish, Clive."

"Ciao, nada? Did you become a linguist since I saw you last, Molly?"

"Not hardly, Sir Clive, just a few buzzwords."

Nova smiled at his misunderstanding. "It's a culture clash common on the west coast, a word here, an expression there."

Molly fidgeted. "I'm so nervous. How about you, Nova?"

"More anxious than nervous."

Mercer shook his head. "Your small talk reminded me I forgot something."

"Back at the motel?" they asked.

"Fortunately not. I bought gifts for you girls. Meant to give them to you back at the motel. Guess I'm a little anxious myself, need to relax a bit."

Nova gave him a naughty glance. "Relax? I recall you saying something about relaxing last night."

"Perhaps you had too much champagne. It was the other way round, love, you brought it up."

Molly glared at Nova. "What are you two talking about?"

"No big deal. Something that came up after you crashed."

"Nothing to concern yourself with," Mercer said. He dipped his hands into each of the side pockets of his jacket.

"Did you two . . .?" asked Molly.

"Never mind. Feast your eyes on this, Little Miss Molly!" In each of his palms he held a small velvet jewelry store box. "This is your present right here." He handed her one of the boxes.

"How sweet! You shouldn't have, Uncle, uh, Sir Clive."

"Why not? You bought me all these clothes." He turned to Nova. "And this one's for my dear Latin friend."

Nova pecked him on the mouth before lifting the lid. Inside nestled a diamond-studded crucifix on a slender silver chain. "Ohmigod! It's beautiful."

Molly held a golden cross on a gold chain between her fingers and gasped, "This is 24 karat! These must have cost a fortune." She hugged Mercer tightly and kissed his cheek.

He helped each of the girls with the clasps, saying: "They're more than just tokens of affection for my two favorite California girls."

Molly didn't understand until Nova explained to her: "These are protection too."

"Duh, I zoned out till just this second. Crosses ward off vampires."

Mercer said, "Hopefully you won't need any protection I can't render. Not tonight anyway. Now let me see the new jewelry around your necks sparkle, ladies. Yes, you both are stunning. Shall we get on with it?"

Two minutes later they reached the door of suite 704. When Molly knocked, Mercer donned his Ray Bans. Nova awarded him a thumb's up. The shades and Converse high tops would sell a certain image inside Baldwin's suite, very L.A.

She pitched her voice low. "Are those your vampire-proof sunglasses with specially treated lenses?" When he ignored her question she knew they were. Nervous energy drove Mercer, he was ready to rock and roll. Off the leash, off the porch, off and running!

~~~~~~~~~~

The suite bustled with activity. Three or four young women wore abbreviated Halloween costumes, twenty more loitered in various stages of undress and a handful of men looked extremely pleased with themselves, maybe just glad to be there, or perhaps actors. If they were actors, Reggie wasn't one of them. A sex vignette flashed on a big screen TV, the sound off and no one watching. From somewhere a radio played classic rock; a wet bar in the corner dispensed alcohol. Everyone had a glass. Sammy Baldwin was jowly man approximately fifty. His curly hair receded and he strutted around in cream colored shoes, his paunch exposed in an unbuttoned shirt tucked into white ducks, his necklaces adrift in a mat of chest hair. Sweat glistened in a sheen on his forehead and upper lip. Nova had referred to him as a fast-talker and she wasn't wrong. Words streamed out of his mouth, convoluted and strung together, a man blessed with the ability to conduct three disparate conversations at once. To Mercer's chagrin, Baldwin didn't pay much attention to Molly and Nova after greeting them. Mercer knew the competition for the producer's time would be fierce, but hadn't expected two dozen other girls dressed in less than his niece and Nova lounging about the same room.

"At midnight we'll preview 'Nude Bloodbath' on the TVs in all three of our suites. The cast will make an appearance but none of them are here yet," Baldwin imparted to Molly before a willowy blonde starlet in a fishnet tank top and short skirt intruded.

She lifted her skirt to show she had no underwear on, cupped her plump pussy to distract Baldwin and asked, "Do you think my kitty is photogenic, Sammy?" She pulled her wet lips apart. "I'd like your professional opinion."

Baldwin leered. "Duty calls, Molly." He led the starlet away holding her hand and saying, "To judge how well your pussy will photograph, Stormi, I need to see it under better lighting. Let's try in one of the bedrooms."

"Okay!" Stormi the starlet blurted.

"See what I mean, Sir Clive," Molly said. "He's a horndog with a capital aitch. Full of shit and Viagra."

"Is Stormi auditioning?"

"It sure sounded like one in the making to me."

"What will you say if he asks you to audition tonight? You said you would if he got the film festival invitations."

"No way. I'd tell him I changed my mind."

"How about you, Nova?"

"I never say never. I'd audition if the co-stars were hot enough." She winked at him.

Mercer couldn't tell if she was joking or trying to get under his skin.

The thought fled his mind when two men in black suits came through the door of the suite. They weren't in their white dinner jackets tonight. Nova caught him staring at them while Molly chatted up a pair of the competition.

Nova said in his ear, "Are those two the Elaine Ferris connection?"

"I'm quite sure."

"How can you link them to Sammy, other than they're here? So are a lot of others. You saw those guys outside last night but told us Sammy's party didn't check in until one today."

"Maybe they're his advance men traveling a day ahead of the entourage making sure the hotel and limousine reservations are in order. That would put them here last night."

"What's your plan on getting them to one side to answer questions? If they'll even talk to you."

"Dunno. Divide and conquer? They came in together, they may leave together."