Edge of Tomorrow (61 page)

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Authors: Wolf Wootan

Tags: #thriller, #assassin, #murder, #international, #assassinations, #high tech, #spy adventure

BOOK: Edge of Tomorrow
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At the conclusion of the song, the band
switched melodies and several customers got up, put their arms on
the shoulders of the people next to them, and began dancing the
traditional Greek line dance, the
hassapiko
. The place was a madhouse of
frivolity.

“The ring is gorgeous, Hatch!” said Syd,
holding her hand out so all of them could admire it. “You did good!
Are you sure Mrs. C. didn’t pick this out for you?”

“No, but I had the help of an excellent Greek
jeweler.”

The General chipped in, “You should have
gotten her something bigger, Hatch! What are you saving your money
for?”

“She wouldn’t have worn anything much bigger,
General.”

“No, General,” cooed Syd, “this is at the
outer limit as it is. But I think I’ll keep it!”

She thought her fabulous bracelet paled
by comparison. They all laughed and watched the dancers for a
moment. When the line dance ended to much clapping, stomping, and
whistling, the music changed to a slower, more sensual melody. Syd
recognized it as the music from the scene in the movie
The Greek Tycoon
—or, at least,
something very similar. A young couple in their early twenties—the
woman could have been even younger than that—appeared on the dance
floor and began a very sexy, slow dance—neither touching the other.
The woman was three inches shorter than Syd, and wore an
off-the-shoulder blouse pulled low to reveal cleavage, a skirt
similar to the one Syd wore, and her red shoes had four-inch heels.
Her legs were bare. The man wore a white shirt unbuttoned to the
waist, tight black pants, and short black boots with two-inch
heels.

Hatch told Syd, “Those two are
shills—professionals. The hunk is Papa’s cousin Orion Costi, and
that hot girl is Orion’s wife Kyrie. Watch their moves closely so
we can join in later—not the precise moves, but the style, the
feeling, the responses. This is a variation of a passionate,
sensual dance from Crete called the
sousta
. Kyrie will become quite flirtatious as
the dance heats up. As the customers pair off and join them, the
plate breaking will begin. Papa makes a lot of money on plates. He
puts them on the participants’ bill at three times what he pays for
them. He buys them by the truckload!”

“My God, they’re good! I suppose they’re on
your payroll, too!” laughed Syd.

“And worth every penny! Look! I haven’t quite
mastered that move yet! He does it so well!” replied Hatch with
enthusiasm.

“Jeez, she’s inviting rape right there on the
dance floor,” giggled Syd.

“It looks too consensual to be rape!”

The General was enjoying the dance immensely,
while Carrie stared in astonishment at the sensual moves of the
dancers.

Syd leaned and whispered to Hatch, “I
can tell you right now, Hatch Lincoln, that I will not do
that
dance in front of your
parents!”

He leered at her.

• • •

By 10:45 P.M., Carrie was yawning. The good
food and more alcohol than usual had taken its toll on her. The
General was still feeling good, and had even danced a regular
two-step dance with his future daughter-in-law, but agreed it was
time to let Carrie get some rest.

Hatch said, “General, you can go back to the
ship if you prefer, but Mom looks like she’s dead on her feet. Why
don’t you two use the suite tonight. Save you a chopper ride in the
middle of the night.”

Carrie interjected, “That’s a good idea,
Larry. I am very tired, and I threw a few things in my tote bag,
just in case.”

The General grumbled, “A conspiracy, huh? OK,
dear, we’ll stay here.” He turned to Hatch and added, “I’ll see you
two at 0600 for breakfast.”

Syd saw the twinkle in his eye and knew
he was ribbing them, but she replied with a laugh, “I don’t
think
so, General!”

Carrie said, “He’s pulling your leg, dear. He
never is up at 0600 anymore!”

After many hugs all around, the General and
Carrie left and headed to bed.

“I like them, Hatch,” murmured Syd.

“They like you, too, Syd. You have the
General mesmerized. Just like his son! How
do
you
do
it?”

“Just an overabundance of charm, I guess,”
she giggled.

There had been a turnover in the crowd.
The
real
party animals began
arriving around ten o’clock. The broken plates had been swept up,
and it was time for Orion and Kyrie to work the new crowd and make
more plate money for Papa Papa. Five couples joined them on the
dance floor, and Syd thought it was beginning to look like a
choreographed orgy.

Hatch said, “My folks are gone now. Are we
going to try this dance?”

“Get us a bottle of white wine first, please.
No more Zorbatinis for me. Let me watch some more.”

A bottle of
Amethystos fume
—a Greek white wine by
Lazariois—appeared at their table, and was poured by Papa Papa
himself. The dancers were really heating up now and plates were
breaking all over the dance floor. Syd watched Kyrie closely,
etching her moves in her mind. She also noticed that Kyrie’s blouse
was pulled down so far that the entire top half of her breasts was
exposed. On some moves, Syd expected her breasts to pop out, or at
least show some areola, but it never happened.

How does she manage that? Special bra? No
bra and tape or glue of some sort? Hmm.

Syd pulled her own blouse down a little,
exposing as much as she could without showing her white, strapless
bra. It did not equal the exposure of Kyrie and some of the other
women on the floor, but it was the best she could do. She wanted to
be as sexy as she could for her new fiancé, but there were limits
to where she would go.

The dance ended and the floor was swept
again; Syd and Hatch sipped their wine. Then Hatch motioned to Otus
and the band began playing the slow, rhythmic melody from
The Greek Tycoon
again. Hatch took
Syd’s hand and led her to the dance floor and—without touching
her—began the slow mating dance. Syd began her moves, coy at first,
then more flirtatious. Sounds of slow clapping to the music came
from the crowd, and cries which sounded like “oh-paw” to Syd
accented their moves. Nobody joined them on the floor, because Papa
Papa had passed the word that this was their engagement dance. As
the tempo slowly increased, and the two of them became immersed in
the fervor of the dance, they saw only each other—they were in a
universe by themselves. Syd was unaware of how much of her long,
beautiful legs she was exposing as she swished and twirled and
flipped her skirt. There was only Hatch, his eyes, the hypnotic
dance. At the peak of the dance, the plate breaking began to
increased shouts of “oh-paw.” Syd joined in on the plate throwing,
as did Hatch, all in sync with the fervor of the dance and the
urging of the crowd.

When it ended, Syd was facing Hatch, staring
into his hazel eyes. They still had not touched, but she felt as if
he had ravaged her body, chewed on her nipples, kissed every inch
of her body, and finally thrust himself inside her. She had never
imagined such a thing was possible. She wondered how Kyrie could do
the dance several times a night.

The cheers and applause of the
customers brought her out of her reverie. Her knees were weak, so
she held onto Hatch’s arm as they returned to their table. She felt
as if she had been dreaming, but she looked at the ring on her
finger, touched it, and knew this was all real. She realized that
the power of that dance was such that a virgin dancing with a
stranger would lose her virginity without any resistance. What an
aphrodisiac! Or was the love she felt for Hatch the
real
culprit? She did not care what
the reason was—she was spent emotionally! And physically. She felt
just like she did after experiencing an orgasm. She poured herself
another glass of wine and swallowed all of it in an attempt to
slake her thirst.

“That was incredible, Hatch!” she
gasped. “When Bob Kelly mentioned dancing a sexy dance with me in
Greece, I never imagined I would be doing it with my fiancé! And
how
unbelievably
sensual the
dance would be!”

“That seems like a lifetime ago. We’ve packed
a lot into only a few days, haven’t we?”

“This is like a fairy tale! I feel like I’m
dreaming!” she exclaimed, still feeling weak from her dance
experience.

“The rest of our lives will be a fairy
tale—together!” he whispered as he took her hand.

• • •

They retired to their suite at 1:04
A.M., bringing the bottle of
Metaxa
brandy with them, as well as two snifters. Hatch poured them
each a nightcap.

Syd giggled, “Now that we’re alone, I could
slip out of this bra and pull my blouse lower for you!’

“It wouldn’t be the same! Besides, I’ve had
more than enough foreplay! How about we skip to the main
course?”

“So like a man! Why don’t you sing ‘Whatever
Lola Wants’ while I do a striptease for you? Then we’ll celebrate
our engagement properly!”

• • •

Syd was naked at the foot of Mt. Olympus.
She was leaning over, bent at the waist, her hands on an ancient
stone wall, supporting her as Hatch entered her from behind.
Swirling winds blew gray and white mists around the top of the
mountain, but Syd and Hatch were in a ray of sunlight, like a
spotlight. She pushed herself back against Hatch with each of his
thrusts: ecstasy! Then suddenly a roar came from the mountain top
and the sun was blotted out, but the thrusting did not stop. She
became chilled as the roar became a voice.

“You walk on earth as a mortal, Hatch
Lincoln, but you make decisions reserved to the Gods. I, Zeus,
punish you now with the death of a mortal!”

Lightening bolts began hitting the ground
around them, spewing stones and debris against Syd’s naked body.
Then, one of the thunderbolts hit Hatch and the power surged
through his body, and because he was still coupled to her, into
Syd’s body. Hatch fell to the ground and Syd stood, their
connection broken. She faced the mountain top and felt empowered
with unbelievable energy, her breasts taut—nearly solid—and her
nipples were like spikes of steel. She began deflecting the
thunderbolts away from them using her bracelet, like the comic book
hero, Wonder Woman. She felt like a mother bear protecting her cub.
The thunderbolts must not be allowed to strike Hatch!

Then, out of the swirling mist, came a rider
on a pale horse. The rider was wearing a tattered gray shroud, and
only his face was visible, and it was a white skull: Death was
coming!

“You can’t have him! He’s mine!” she
screamed into the mist, but the rider continued down the slope,
gray shroud flowing.

Syd stood her ground, and using the diamond
on her engagement ring, deflected the next lightening bolt into the
rider. The rider disintegrated into gray dust, which was then
swirled away by the roaring wind. Syd leapt upon the back of the
horse. Her black hair came to the middle of her back, and it
swirled around her, her only armor. She was a lethal Lady Godiva
astride her pale pony, her personal Pegasus, and it flew her up the
mountainside towards the angry Gods. She snatched a thunderbolt
from the sky and fashioned it into a sword, more powerful than
Excalibur, which she used to parry the incoming flaming bolts. As
she reached the top of the mountain, the clouds thickened, the
winds increased, the roar became deafening!

“I will bring you down from your mountain
and you will harm us no more!” she yelled at the top of her voice.
“My sword is wrought from your own power, and will destroy
you!”

The voice roared back, “You will never reach
me! I live on the edge of tomorrow! Always out of your reach!”

Her pale Pegasus reared, and then she
spurred it with her bare heels and disappeared into the morass,
sword raised, a scream rising from deep within her!

• • •

Syd awoke with a start! Her nightgown was
soaked in sweat and she was trembling. She looked for Hatch, and he
was sleeping soundly in the bed, next to her. She got up and took
off her gown and threw it on the floor, a sodden mass. She got one
of Hatch’s cigarettes off the bedside table, lit it, and went out
on the balcony to let the breeze cool her and dry her wet body. A
deep drag on the cigarette calmed her nerves as the nicotine surged
through her body. She wondered what her nightmare meant.

I hardly ever remember my dreams, and never
have nightmares! What is this all about? What a friggin’ mix of
history! If that was Thor throwing those thunderbolts, he was Norse
and didn’t belong on Mt. Olympus! But Zeus used thunderbolts, too,
and he was Olympian. And Lady Godiva and Pegasus? Wow! Maybe it was
something I ate!

She wondered if she had been living
with no thought of yesterday, just today, not thinking of the
future as she should. Are today’s pleasures and joys repressing her
ability to plan the future? What did the voice mean about
the
edge of tomorrow
? One
foot in today, one foot in tomorrow? But when you step the other
foot into tomorrow, you are in today again. Does that mean tomorrow
is out of her reach? Is Hatch really playing at God-like things?
Does she really have the power and strength to protect him against
unseen powers, powers she knows nothing about? She was certain
about one thing: ever since that day at
The Blue Grotto
when she met Hatch, her life had
changed forever! And she wouldn’t have it any other way!

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