Indiscreet while Undercover

Like most red-blooded men, I have always had salacious thoughts about enjoying myself in a strip club. When finally given the opportunity, I must admit that I found it highly titillating. As I perused each of the dancers, I instinctively became aroused as they paraded themselves before me and my fellow worshipers. There was a smorgasbord of different delights with someone sure to satisfy the most fastidious client. Despite the many raucous devotees, I remained reserved and just quietly showed my appreciation.

There was no point in displaying excessive approval as Earl had made it clear: "Look but don't touch the merchandise!" Even so this was probably the perfect distraction to quell my troubling thoughts. To aid my diversion, I turned to assessing their assets to place them in a pegging order for my fantasy preference list.

As they wiggled and strutted, their defined womanly curves became the first feature that grabbed my attention. This included consideration of shapely hips and butts, tight abdomen and rounded breasts. Indeed, I spent considerable time assessing breasts. Many of the 'ladies' had enhanced work. While they were firm and spherical, I quickly realized that my preference was for the perky and more natural wobble.

After curves and breasts, shapely legs became my focus. Taught and smooth thighs and someone of a compatible height was my choice. Some of the 'ladies' were dynamic cuties, but as I am reasonably tall, I had a natural preference for the medium to tall beauties. Many wore stilettos, so I often waited until they walked off stage to properly gauge their height.

The 'ladies' wore an array of costumes, tassels and lingerie before ending their dance disrobes to just a thong. It was fascinating to see how they portrayed different characters while seductively revealing their hidden treasures. Some of their movements were entrancing and subtle, while others brazenly left little to the imagination. The dancers displayed various levels of confidence. Some were entertainers while a few were obviously bored.

It was different when Brandy first appeared on stage. I was too distracted to bother scoring her features. Like her full name of Brandy Alexander, she was creamy, sweet and smooth. Although she had a body designed for sin, what really captivated me was the animation in her face. When she smiled and looked at me, I felt I was on a promise. Of course, I soon realized she had the same effect on all the men present.

On my first day of just sitting in the club, another dancer, Rosie, stopped and offered me a private dance. Rosie was not my type, but being gregarious and possessing a pleasant English accent, I asked if she wanted to chat.

"That will cost you a drink," was her practiced reply.

I didn't really need a drink but if that is what it took to get some information, I happily replied: "Just a beer then please."

"That will be ten bucks."

Resignedly I accepted the inflated price as the cost of doing business.

When Rosie returned, she sat next to me and went through her menu of services. "It is twenty bucks for a lap dance, or we can go to a private room for half an hour for a hundred."

I had to lean into her so I wouldn't have to shout over the strident music. "No thanks Rosie. I really am just filling in time here."

Then in a quieter coy voice, Rosie offered: "Well if you want something more intimate, we have rooms upstairs where all your dreams can come true."

I was fairly sure what she was implying. I couldn't honestly say that I would never consider fucking a hooker; it was just that I begrudged the cost. This was all academic really as I reluctantly explained: "I am sure it would be delightful, but Earl would not be pleased."

"Oh, you are one of his boys! Enough said." Then in jest she added: "Well be careful you don't go blind jerking off tonight."

I lifted my beer in salute and gave her a confirmatory grin. "I guess you know men well?"

"I have had too many years here not to have learnt something."

"So does Earl own this place." I enquired.

"Yeah. He has owned and run this place for the five years I have been here."

"It must be a good money earner for him."

"It should be, but Earl has big ambitions. Sadly, he is addicted to gambling. He is always looking for a way to make a fast buck. I guess that is why you are here."

I pretended ignorance to her implied question and focused on the new dancer, Brandy. Her blonde hair framed her expressive face where I focused on her seductive blue eyes fringed by thick lashes.

After a couple of minutes of broken conversation, Rosie intruded on my lustful thoughts by saying: "You seem to like our Princess!" When I failed to react, she informed me: "That one's beyond your budget. She charges one thousand bucks for a couple of hours. Every day she has at least one high roller visit. As Earl gets almost half, he treats her special, so she's able to make her own rules."

It was on Sunday, my third day in the club that I had my first opportunity to speak with Brandy. Most of the other girls mingled with the clientele soliciting for private dances. The only time that Brandy mingled was to serve drinks. As she approached, she looked almost ethereal. Her blonde hair was flying loosely, and she wore a white transparent gauze lace nightdress which only highlighted her white lingerie underneath. Except for her tiny thong I had seen her naked on stage, but this stood out as even more alluring.

With a cheerful countenance she enquired: "Would you like a drink, Sir?"

"Will it cost me a drink to chat with you?"

She paused and obviously undertook a quick appraisal before offering: "What can I get you?"

"A Jack and Coke would be nice, thank you."

"That will be twenty dollars, please."

As I considered the exorbitant price, Brandy added: "The conversation is at least ten dollars of that." I meekly capitulated and handed over the money.

Brandy returned with my drink and with a lissome movement positioned a chair next to me. As she sat down her gauze dress smoothly fell apart revealing a perfect pair of long toned legs. She just wet her lips on her soda and then asked: "Well what is your name?"

I shared a look with Brandy and waited for her reaction as I replied: "Wyatt."

She nodded with approval and then asked: "And what do you do, Wyatt?"

"I'm a consultant." Her clear blue eyes opened wider as if saying, is that all? So, I continued: "I undertake due diligence, risk assessment and provide other specialist services."

"That sounds interesting and extremely broad. Who are you currently working for?"

"I have just been engaged by Earl."

With my response, Brandy's face lit up as she chortled a response: "We're almost in the same line of work. I'm also a consultant that provides special services for Earl's business."

"I notice your qualified your answer by saying Earl's business. Not for Earl?"

With a mock startled expression, she retorted: "Hell no! I am too professional to mix business with pleasure."

"Does that mean you don't find your business pleasurable?"

"Let's just say I am a social worker that helps clients resolve personal problems. I provide intimacy that is a crucial element of health and wellness. It affects our physical, mental, and emotional health in tangible ways. I take pride in the professional service that I provide and the happiness that I add to the world."

I just grinned back at her and nodded.

Brandy then tapped me on the knee before standing up. She left me by saying: "Nice to chat with you Earl."

She appeared to be a confident, intelligent woman in control of her life.

That afternoon I was summonsed to Earl's office. I was not accustomed to just waiting around as had occurred over the past few days, so it was with some expectation I sat down and waited to hear what duties he wanted me to perform. I knew that Earl and Terry were planning something. The details were being closely guarded and only shared to the other members of the group on a need-to-know basis.

If it hadn't been for some brief conversations with Bill, who was also just sitting around waiting, I wouldn't even have gathered that much information. The fact that I was denied any idea of my role in the expected escapade was not only frustrating; the lack of information would be concerning my outside contacts.

"I hope the girls have been a distraction for you while you waited." Although Terry, Bill, Victor and Tyrone were also in the room, I knew from Earl's focus that the comment was directed to me as the newest member. I mumbled some sort of complementary reply. Then to everyone present he announced: "Our plans are now worked out and we are ready to proceed. From now on, I demand the strictest security!"

Turning to each of us in turn, Earl emphasized: "I am unforgiving for those who are careless. I don't intend to take chances so I will give you the details only when they are needed."

"What I want done now is for you four ..." as he pointed to Bill, Victor and Tyrone and myself "... to collect your basic necessities for the next week and then move into a room upstairs. Rosie will allocate the rooms. Bill you are to partner with Wyatt; Victor, you are with Tyrone. You will vigilantly accompany your partner to his current accommodation making sure that no one makes any outside contact. Once you have gathered your necessities, you are to search one another's belonging making sure they have no phones, computers or communication devices. Once you are installed in a room, you may only leave to come to the office or sit on the backstage. Is that clear?"

I immediately confirmed. My promptness was due to my military experience of receiving orders. There was a significant pause before the stunned remainder acknowledge that they understood.

As we left the office, Bill offered to drive his car so that we could go to his apartment first. Once we were in his car, he commented: "I was hoping Earl would partner us together." As I hadn't really got to know any of them, I was still thinking of an appropriate reply when Bill continued: "I heard that you are pretty handy with guns. They say you took down Alejandro."

His statement just started my emotions churning. I starred at Bill and waited for him to catch my eye. When I did not reply he turned towards me expecting some comment. When I did respond, my tone was emphatic: "Whoever is spreading stories needs to watch their words. Carelessness leads to unwanted attention and consequences."

Denying his assertion would reduce my credibility, but I knew that no-one bragged about a killing when the statement could later be evidence in court.

I had stunned Bill into silence, but once again I was confronted with guilt as I recalled the fateful incident. Alejandro was a gang boss responsible for drug distributions, protection rackets and the occasional murder. He had also been progressively muscling out his competition.

My introduction into the crime world was by being hired by Louie to be his driver. Louie's interests were deliberately modest in an effort to avoid the attention of police. He looked after prostitution and protection in his neighborhood, but this was hindering Alejandro's expansionist ambitions.

I knew Louie had clearly instructed his gang not to antagonize any of Alejandro's men. Louie felt that by cooperating, there would be no cause for trouble. Even so, I was surprised that Louie willingly agreed to meet Alejandro when summoned to discuss mutual interests. The instruction said that for confidentiality, each party could only bring one other person to the meeting.

I drove Louie and George to the location at a large, isolated shed near the airport. I was instructed to stay outside with the car, so I positioned it behind some wooden pallets to enable a quick departure if needed. The stacks of pallets not only concealed the car but would provide some protection, if needed. We were half an hour early as Louie and George didn't want to be surprised. They immediately entered the unlocked side door.

At the appointed time, two black Audis sedans arrived. As they approached the end of the building, the truck sized roller door opened allowing them to slowly drive in. Even though the car windows were tinted, it was obvious that the passenger seats were occupied. Initially I was hesitant as to what I should do, but I suspected this was not a good sign. Maintaining some discretion, I crept around the side of the building and found that the roller door was still open.

I intended to remain concealed as I crept to a position to observe what was going on. As I was just peeping around the door entrance, loud threats were being expressed by one member of the other group. I guessed this was Alejandro . He and his men were on the right in front of their cars; Louie and George were on the left adjacent to stacks of paint tins with the side door at their rear. Louie looked surprised and I was riveted by the transition in his expressions. Shock morphed into anger which quickly evolved into determination. Before Louie replied, I could see it would be a complete rejection of Alejandro demands. Louie's intended answer could also be foreseen by the men facing him.

It was the movement that first caught my eye. Two of the men closest to me were placing their right hands into their pockets of their jackets, but the shooting started with the men furthest from me. I had instinctively drawn my pistol from its holster; nevertheless, Louie and George were already returning fire.

Things happened fast. As I had not yet been detected, I was able to hit the three men closest to the door. In a brief lull after the initial fusillade, I could see seven of Alejandro men on the ground, plus Louie and George. Alejandro had run behind some machinery for cover. Louie was sitting up now and exchanging shots with Alejandro which prompted him to run towards the far end of the building. I aimed at his body and fired. He fell.

Keeping my pistol focused on Alejandro's men, I checked out Louie who had me help him to his feet. He had been hit twice in his right side but with a groan of pain he maintained his feet. I then checked George who was dead. He had taken at least five rounds and his blood was now mixing on the ground with white paint that was flowing from ruptured tins.

Behind me, Louie systematically applied the coup de grâce to his opponents on the ground. After he returned from checking Alejandro all he said was: "Wow! That was a perfect head shot. Let's get George in the car and get out of here."

Louie was in no position to help, so I lifted George under his arms and held him against my chest. I dragged him out to the car and after struggling to get him into the back seat, Louie told me to put him in the trunk. I knew Louie shared my embarrassment as he said: "Tell no one that we put him in there."

By the time I had driven us into the courtyard of his home, Louie needed help. He was still the boss, so after some quick-fire directions he had two of his men help him inside. Then he directed the cleanup of George and the car. I was covered in blood and paint, so I was told to get showered and changed. Later, men were sent back to clean the scene at the shed.

I never told anyone about what happened, however I soon found that I was being treated differently by the gang. It took me a while to realize that I had somehow gained their respect. This was a double-edged sword. This would help me become accepted and probably enhance their trust in me. It also aggravated my conscience as I was a law officer. I felt obligated to report the killings, but it had to be done without blowing my cover. Although I had always known that I might have to fire my weapon in anger, I had never quite anticipated this feeling of emptiness after killing a person ... actually four people.

My remorse was like a millstone hanging from my neck. I didn't even know the names of some of those guys I had killed. If only I could talk my issues through with someone, but alas my predicament would not allow that.

That was a month ago. Louie was Earl's cousin and had decided to take a vacation to recuperate. That was the reason I had been loaned to Earl for this upcoming job.

We arrive at Bill's home. He had been living in a dive that appeared as though it had not been cleaned for over a year. With a lack of enthusiasm, I inspected his belongings as he put them aside. He had included a Bible. While he was looking for some shoes, I examined it and found inscribed inside the Bible's front cover; 'Presented to Bill O'Reilly by the Principal of St Mary's School, Father Romano'.

Due to Earl's concern about security, this was the first time I had determined any of the teams' surnames. I reasoned that Earl's full name must appear on some licenses; however the remainder could even be using false names.

Once Bill was packed, we moved to my humble lodgings.

I laid my belonging on the bed for Bill's inspection and wondered if I should leave a message. Each day I used the neighbor's mailbox as a drop box. The only way I could do this without being seen would be to write a note while on the toilet. I had a pen in a draw, but I rejected the idea as it was too risky.

I had used the drop box when I wrote a detailed account of what happened with the Alejandro killing. At the time, it had been somewhat cathartic to detail everything. My ongoing concern was not receiving a reply or knowing the consequences.

Although I could not leave a message, I rationalized the Bureau should deduce by my absence that something was about to happen.

Back at the club we each moved into rooms upstairs. I was allocated a large room with a king size bed adorned with padded headboard and unnecessary pillows. In one corner was a large oval spa bath with a tiled surround and hand basin. Balancing this in the opposite corner was an antique looking cabinet with hanging space and a few shelves. One side wall held a large mirror while the one behind the bed was covered in a dark blue, plush velvety wallpaper. The creases in the faux leather sofa under the window, indicted that it had been well used. Lamps supported by statues of naked ladies added to the certainty that this room was designed for just one purpose.

I had finished the delivered takeaway dinner and decided I would go downstair and watch some of the dancers. Bill and Victor were already there in the backstage alcove where we could view the main dais from side on. I pulled up a chair next to them, but other than acknowledging nods, there was no discussion.

I was only half-heartedly watching as memory of the killings once again niggled at my conscience. At about 11 pm the other guys departed for bed.

I was about to follow when Brandy literally sprang onto the stage. She was dressed in fitness gear and as the music pumped out 'Let's get physical' she started her exercise routine. She was dressed just like Olivia Newton-John in white leotard covered by a baby blue sleeveless front knotted shirt. Of course, a white band adorned her head.

Her rhythmical movements transformed warm up circles and twists into dance moves. These evolved into rotations and lunges as she became more energetic with each step, in time with the music. Even the removal of her shirt was dramatic as dictated by the words of 'Let's get physical, physical'.

Her routine had been more or less consistent with Olivia's music video but then she introduced more suggestive moves. She transitioned into an enticing belly dancer gracefully displaying her flexibility and assets. Her arms flowed like water as she shimmied and shook her body and popped her chest. She exploited her sultry demeanor and beauty to manipulate the crowd of men into doing what she wanted; that was increased adulation if not outright worship.