Code Name: Red Rock (2 page)

Miss Ambrose’s lip curved slightly in what Jesse presumed was as close to an approximation of a smile as she would get.

With a prim nod, the unpleasant crow gestured to the clothing bags.

“At least you will wear the kind of clothes he prefers,” she sniffed. “He does have a ‘type.’ Be sure and use the makeup that is in the small bag. And for God’s sake, do
something
with your hair.”

Jesse picked up the large shopping bag and reached for the garment bag. She turned her back knowing that her disdainful expression could give her away.

“Thank you so much, Miss Ambrose. I appreciate your help more than you can imagine.”

The martinet stared at her through narrowed eyes as if measuring her.

“I presume you know your correct clothing sizes or you will look even more ridiculous in these expensive clothes than you do now. Just be sure that you look presentable and that you stay quietly in the corner. Remember, you are there as a secretary, essentially a servant. Do not speak unless you are spoken to. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jesse hesitated. “Where… where am I supposed to change? To get dressed?”

The haughty despot almost gave herself away with what could have passed for a genuine smile if it weren’t for the malice in her eyes.

“You can use Mr. Walker's dressing room. It is well equipped with everything you could possibly need.” She spat the words. “Mr. Walker designed it himself.”

Carrying her treasures, Jesse went into the dressing room through a private entrance. She was careful to keep her expression impassive. She’d learned the first day she infiltrated the operation, that not only was her new ‘boss’ a traitor to his country, he was a freak. His perverted proclivities became a central part of her team’s planning. Along with more mirrors than Jesse had ever seen, Walker had appointed his dressing room with innumerable hidden cameras. Knowing that everything she did in the next hour would become part of the slimy voyeur’s private collection, Jesse determined that she would put on a show the despicable man was unlikely to forget.

Chapter 2

Jesse supposed she should be grateful that at least the lighting was tasteful. The soft sensual lights made the pornographic drawings and photographs decorating the dressing room less noticeable—at least at first. She gave a momentary shudder wondering if any shots of her would make it to these walls of infamy. Her distaste lifted for a moment and she almost giggled at the sight of the phallic looking faucet handles on the double vanity sink. She couldn’t resist punching the erect nipple on an extravagantly sized breast to confirm that it was indeed a soap dispenser. For a moment, Jesse speculated that maybe the asshole had a sense of humor; but looking around she decided there was nothing funny about the room or the show she was about to put on.

Carefully hanging the garment bag close to the shower, she began a visible inventory of the items in the Harrods shopping bag. She pulled out a lacy black strapless bra that looked as though it
might
contain a quarter of her bodacious breasts. She held up a stray scrap of satin that on second glance was in fact a thong. The black silk lace topped thigh high stockings were to be expected. She decided she’d save the shoes for later. Her reflection in the multiple mirrors captured her surprised expression and what she hoped looked like nervousness to her clandestine audience.

Twisting her dank pony tail up on top of her head with a clip, she prepared to step into the shower. Continually glancing in the mirror as if she were afraid to look at herself as she undressed, she removed the ugly jacket. She took a visible breath and then unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off. A utilitarian brassiere without a snippet of lace covered her breasts. Bending over she stepped out of her stodgy loafers and removed her knee-high woolen socks. With a quick glance in the mirrors, she shut her eyes and dropped her heavy plaid skirt to the floor. She walked briskly toward the shower as though she could hide in there. With her back to the room, Jesse unhooked her bra and let it slide to the floor. Thinking ahead she draped a towel over the shower door. Knowing that she was transforming herself before the voyeur’s eyes, she hesitated then stripped off her granny panties and slipped into the shower slamming the clear glass door behind herself.

Turning the water on high, she blessed the steam that quickly and thickly shrouded the glass. When she’d sequestered herself a significant amount of time to pique his interest, she turned off the water and reached for the towel. Securing it around her from the top of her breasts to the top of thighs, she made sure that Mason Walker had a glimpse of rosy, damp flesh beneath the terry cloth covering.

Taking a deep breath, she strode to the dressing table and began rummaging in the small packages in the Harrods bag. On her way into the dressing room she’d added a bag of her own that contained the tricks of
her
trade. Finding a glistening cream that she’d hidden among her tools, she rubbed it into her frizzy black hair and brushed it until it glistened and hung in a shiny curtain around her shoulders. Just minutes later, she’d made use of the numerous containers of makeup and allowed the beginnings of a stunning woman to emerge.

Turning to the pile of underwear she’d laid on the vanity top, Jesse grabbed for the bra. She unhooked the towel revealing a momentary glimpse of bare skin, then fastened the shelf bra around her breasts. Once again she peered in the mirror, her eyes widening in false amazement. Even though she’d seen herself many times before in risqué underwear, she had to admit that Miss Ambrose had excellent taste. Smothering her laugh with a cough she wondered what the haughty bitch wore under
her
designer clothes. From the concave look of her chest, it was likely an undershirt or a training bra.

Jesse held up the thong and gazed at it from different angles as if it were a puzzle she needed to solve. With a sigh she slipped it on and pulled silky strings over her hips as she stood. Looking over her shoulder at her bare bottom she tugged on the satin cord securing it in the crack between her perfectly curvy cheeks.

She glanced appraisingly at her reflection and then smiled as if surprised and delighted by what she saw. Placing her foot on a high stool ensuring that her inner thighs were visible, she eased a lace topped silk stocking over her long toned leg. She repeated the sexy act with the other leg then reached in the shoe box for the coup de grace. She was delighted to see black satin high-heeled stilettoes and again congratulated the stern Miss Ambrose for her surprisingly erotic instincts. For one quick moment Jesse wondered if the bitch also viewed the bathroom videotapes. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat knowing that of course she did.

Slipping on the sexy shoes, she rose to her full height and took in what was sure to be at least for Hustler aficionados the impetus for a series of wet, wetter, and wettest dreams. She was tall and slender which made her D cup breasts all the more surprising. Curvy hips, long toned showgirl legs and a firm butt confirmed why Jesse had spent her adult life beating back the excessive overtures of excited men.

Reaching up ensuring that the effort showcased her breasts, she fastened her now glossy hair into a French twist and secured it with two sliver sticks, the rounded ends of which contained a miniature camera. One more search inside her bag produced a set of dangling silver earrings that skillfully concealed high-powered recording devices.

Unzipping the garment bag, she freed the dress inside. On the hanger it looked like a glistening black tube of stretchy material. She held it in front of her aghast. Everything in her questioning expression underscored that it would be impossible to make this scrap of fabric cover her curvy body. Pretending difficulty, she wriggled and squirmed into the dress, tugging at the bottom so that it covered the tops of her stockings—barely. Fussing with the strapless top, she frowned, then reached inside and with a careless flip removed the bra. The result was precisely what she’d intended. Only a blind man wouldn’t see that there was nothing under the dress but gorgeous womanly pulchritude.

Gazing at herself approvingly in the mirror, Jesse pinched her cheeks and smeared more gloss on her pouty lips. She tucked her black-rimmed glasses and lip gloss into her evening bag and moved in a slow tantalizing circle in front of the full length mirror. Reaching up under her skirt she tugged at the lacy stockings, revealing the creamy flesh at the top. She glanced at the doorway and as if dreading what was to come she allowed uncertainty to cloud her face. With a determined frown, she squared her shoulders and walked into the hallway where Shirley Ambrose had told her to wait for Mr. Walker.

Minutes later two men came toward her out of Walker’s office. Jesse was surprised to see the American visitor, Mr. Hughes, with Mason. For a distressing moment she wondered if he might also have watched the peep show. Dismissing the troublesome thought she focused on her host. Mason’s face was flushed a dark blotchy crimson, a sheen of sweat glistened on his upper lip. His eyes were shining, glassy. It was impossible to ignore the bulge tenting the front of his trousers. Coupled with the musky smell of arousal it was clear how he’d spent the last hour. Jesse shoved down the sickening thought and drew her protective professional cloak tightly around herself. Swallowing hard, she smiled shyly at the flustered man who was leering at her.

Lowering her eyes, she stammered, “I hope this is okay. I’m… I’m not accustomed to wearing clothes like this, sir.”

Walker grasped her arm and pulled her next to him. The alcohol on his breath was as pungent as the smell of sweat. He cleared his throat several times and struggled to speak. When he did, he recovered his usual smarmy smirk.

“You should wear clothes like this all the time, my dear. You have transformed yourself. Unbelievably.”

Jesse hesitated and whispered to him, pretending chagrin. “Thank you. But… I… I feel almost
naked
.”

He grinned. “You mustn’t be shy. You have a beautiful body. It just needed to be unclothed. The only way you could be more beautiful is if you
were
naked.”

She gasped and was gratified to feel her face heat. Jesse didn’t have to pretend to be embarrassed. She was. It was bad enough that Mason was practically licking his lips, but Hughes was standing behind him staring at her with a lascivious leer.

As they walked down the hallway to the ornate conference room, Jesse asked, “Do I need to get my computer?”

“No, Miss Ambrose set up a station for you in the corner of the room. But now that I’ve seen the rare butterfly that emerged from your shockingly plain cocoon, I want you right next to me at the conference table.”

A group of Middle Eastern men were clustered around a bar laden with exotic delicacies. It was clear that as much as the group was enjoying the expensive fish and meat, alcohol was the biggest hit. The men all turned when she came in and greeted her with a murmur of appreciation. Because she understood five different Middle Eastern languages and dialects, Jesse was privy to their lewd comments and insinuations. So much for their vaunted regard for women. Apparently they assumed she was Mason’s mistress and therefore available to them as well.

Assuming a shy deference to the men, Jesse kept her head lowered as she was presented to each of the guests. She politely repeated their names as they were introduced, carefully enunciating to best ensure that her surveillance team was apprised of who was in attendance. It was for this purpose that the squad had gone to the lengths they did to position Jesse at the meeting. She’d captured the transaction records on camera the night before but it was critical to know the precise identity of the buyers of the illegal weapons.

When Mason indicated that the discussion was to begin, he motioned to the chair beside him. Speaking to the assembled men who were eyeing Jesse with interest, he said, “This lovely lady is as talented as she is beautiful. We will be transcribing our conversation this evening so that we have confirmation of all the auction bids.” He glanced at the group. “I presume none of you objects to our recording your final bids?”

When none of the guests expressed reluctance, the formal meeting began.

Jesse reached into her evening bag and withdrew her more stylish black-rimmed glasses. Whispering to Mason she explained, “I’m terribly near sighted, sir. I will need to wear my glasses when I work.”

“But of course, my dear. On you, even those unusual glasses look inviting.”

Jesse smiled to herself wondering if he would find them so inviting if he knew that the glasses allowed her to capture the activity and faces of everyone in the room and transmit the video in real time to her surveillance team. She made a point of looking directly at each of the men as they indicated which of the stolen weapons systems they wished to purchase and how many millions of dollars they were willing to pay. While it would be icing on the cake to visually tie the terrorists to their bids, their faces would be familiar to both the American and British teams watching the transmission. Most of these terrorist’s faces had adorned the walls of MI5 and their U. S. headquarters for months, if not years.

Chapter 3

The last of the guests said their goodbyes and left by the back way. In the crowded streets of the Square, limousines and town cars carrying steely eyed men with visible transmission devices were a common sight. Dressed in Western garb, the terrorists were barely noticeable among London’s myriad dark faces from every corner of the world.

Jesse powered down her computer after sending the transcript to the waiting team. Along with the evidence stored in her earrings and hair accouterments, the case against her host and his guests was iron hard. She gathered up her personal things and prepared to go back to the dressing room. Walker grabbed her arm possessively and with an obvious effort hid his interest.

“Where are you going, Millie?”

“Just… to the dressing room to get my things…”

Her voice trailed off leaving him room to make the expected overture.

“But my dear, there is no need for you to do that. You can get your clothes in the morning.” He gave a harsh laugh. “That is if the trash men haven’t disposed of them.”