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Authors: Carl Weber

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BOOK: No More Mr. Nice Guy
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Niles
55
I felt a rush of euphoria as I peered out the window at the Empire State Building from my one-bedroom suite on the thirty-ninth floor. For the first time since I had joined the Army, I felt good about the direction my life was going in, regardless of everything that had gone down with Keisha. It almost seemed like I was living somebody else's life, but I had every intention of making it my own. I may not have wanted to be an assassin, but let's be honest: I was good at it, and they were paying me a hell of a lot of money to kill bad people.
“Hey!” I answered the phone when I saw the code for Willie's number. “What's up?”
“Bridget is on her way upstairs.”
Even though I was expecting her, I felt an internal lurch of excitement knowing she'd be at the door in a few minutes
“Well, hello stranger,” I said when I opened the door for her.
“Nice goatee,” she said playfully, motioning to the new growth of hair on my face.
“Yeah, I decided to do something different.” I took her coat and laid it across a chair.
She took a look around, her attention landing on the view. “This is really nice.”
“I thought I'd get a place in the city, somewhere away from the family, where I can decompress and stay in character.”
“That's smart. It's what I do,” she told me.
“That's where I got the idea,” I admitted. “There's only one thing missing in this place.”
She did a slow turn around the room, stopping to look at the unparalleled view again. “What could possibly be missing?”
“This place hasn't been christened.” I snatched her by the waist and pulled her close to me. I kissed her, sucking on her tongue as I unzipped her skirt. It dropped to the floor, and I massaged her ass as I slid down her panties. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that they were already sopping wet.
I lowered her to the bed, took hold of her butt cheeks, and brought her to my face. Her scent was of wildflowers, and I swear she tasted delicious.
“Oh my,” she gasped.
I softly sucked the folds of her lips, making my way to her clit. Gently sliding back the hood to expose her throbbing love button, I latched my lips around it, sucking and flicking my tongue over it like it was a nipple. I felt her body begin to shake as an orgasm took over. “Oh, oh, oooh!” She pushed me away as a smug smile covered her face and she began to squirt.
“I want you,” she whispered.
I didn't say a word as I laid her back on the bed, kissing and sucking her breasts, until she took control and pulled me closer.
“I said I want you,” she commanded.
My rock hard penis didn't need any more encouragement. I ripped off my clothes and got on top of her. Next thing I knew, our bodies were wrapped together as I gripped her around the waist and pushed myself deeper.
Bridget threw her head back, and her pelvis rose to meet me as she grabbed my buttocks, guiding my movements. I had to grab on to the edge of the bed and breathe to hold back the orgasm threatening to overtake me, because I wanted to stay here like this.
“Do you like it?” she asked before I smashed my lips against hers.
I hadn't thought it was possible, but this was even better than the first time, because now, we both wanted this.
“Oh my God, Niles!” Bridget's yearning met mine, but I had to quiet her before she took me over. I covered her lips with mine, and damn if the sweetness of her kiss didn't make me want to come even more.
“Dammit!” I hollered, knowing I couldn't stop myself from exploding any minute.
“Niles, Niles, Niles.” Bridget's breathing got heavy and came out in fast spasms. She gripped her fingers tightly around my base, and I knew she was about to come. I let go at that moment, and we both came to a swift orgasm together.
“Damn! Damn!” I pulled Bridget closer to me as our bodies writhed in the aftermath of the explosion. I felt so good when I looked at her. The smile on her face said everything. “That good, huh?”
I rose up, grabbed a towel, and got rid of all the evidence “We're just getting started.”
I walked over to the bar and poured her a drink as she lifted up on one elbow to watch me.
“Grey Goose martini, two olives, and pass the vermouth over the glass, right?” I said, mimicking the order I'd heard her give countless waiters and bartenders during our training sessions. I poured myself a bourbon on the rocks and walked back over to hand Bridget her drink.
“Wow. I wasn't expecting that,” she said.
I liked that, because Bridget wasn't an easy person to surprise.
“I took the liberty of ordering us dinner,” I said, using a line she'd taught me in our training. “It should be here at 8:15, which gives us time,” I said. Just looking at her lying there with that post-orgasm glow was turning me on again.
“Well, then, I'm sure we've got time to cook up our own dessert.” She reached out and pulled me toward her.
* * *
I woke up at 5:30 every morning automatically, an occupational habit I'd inherited from my stint in the Army, but when I opened my eyes, Bridget was already awake with a cup of coffee in her hand. She was sitting on the bed, staring off into space. I watched her for a brief moment. To be honest, she looked a little lost. “What the heck? You don't sleep?”
“Not when I have a lot on my mind. But it was fun last night.” She turned to me, wearing only my shirt, which seemed to fit her perfectly, if you know what I mean. She ruined that image when she got out of bed and returned with a folder from her briefcase. She handed it to me, but her expression told me that whatever was in the folder gave her concern. “I got a really big assignment for you. Your next target is a motherfucker.”
“You say that about every job.”
“Well, dammit, I mean it this time!” There was an intensity to her voice I'd never heard before. “Now pay attention.”
“Fine.” I sat up, ready for the full disclosure on my latest assignment. “Tell me about this bastard.”
“We've been trying to take this guy down for years. So far he's managed to evade, overpower, and kill almost every operative we've ever sent,” she said, growing increasingly somber.
“They must not have been that good at the job,” I said, feeling cocky. Nobody was invincible, and whoever this target was, I was surely the guy to get the job done.
She stared at me a long time before answering. “Those operatives he either killed or almost killed weren't any third-string rejects. They were some of the best we've ever had in the company, and most of them were my friends.”
I had never seen her lacking confidence like this, and now I was concerned too.
“I'm sorry,” I said.
“Don't be. But understand that only one operative has ever gone after him and survived.”
“Really?” Now she had my full attention.
“Yes, and that person is me.” She gave me a look I'd never seen on her face before, and the words that followed confirmed that she was genuinely scared. “I'm lucky to be alive after fucking with that crazy bastard. I mean, I pulled out every trick in my arsenal, and he just wouldn't die.”
“Shit. Did you get close enough to dot him?”
She laughed. “Yeah, I dotted him on three separate occasions. None of them worked.”
“How the fuck did he do that?”
“Apparently he almost died from someone trying to poison him, so he takes small doses of poison to make him immune. He never even flinched.”
I shook my head in disbelief. I was starting to understand why she was so serious about this one.
“Oh, and guns aren't going to work, at least not if you want to survive.” She looked disgusted. “He's surrounded by bodyguards all brandishing state of the art weapons. I mean, shit that hasn't even hit the streets. He's also got his own advance team already perched wherever he goes, looking for would-be snipers.”
“He's gotta have a weakness.”
“Maybe, but I never found it. I was actually captured by the sadistic motherfucker. He had me in a vice hung up on his wall, just so he could see the woman sent to kill him. So when I say don't think this is going to be easy, you better hear me. Just the thought of sending you after him terrifies me, and that's just not how I am.”
I put my hand out and took hers, and she was shaking.
“So tell me, who is this guy who's got you so worried?”
“His name is Frank Soto, but they call him El Gato, The Cat. Trust me, he ain't no pussy. Motherfucker has at least nine lives, 'cause every time we think we got him, he somehow manages to slip away, leaving more bodies than I care to remember. At least I managed to escape with my life, which makes it hard as hell to forget.”
I pulled her close to me as she continued.
“He dabbles in drug smuggling and human trafficking, but what he's known for is arms distribution.”
“Wait. So you and a whole buncha others have gone after him, and he's still breathing? What makes you think I can take him down?” I wasn't about to admit it to her, but shit, I was starting to question my own ability.
“Folks at the top think you're ready, and they want this guy eliminated,” she said.
“And you?” I asked, watching her closely. Over the past months, I'd gotten to know her pretty well, and I knew when she wasn't being straight up.
“I know you can do it. You're the best operative I've ever seen; even better than me, as much as that pains me to say.”
“Wait. Pause. I just want to savor that for a moment.”
She rolled her eyes and granted me about three seconds to gloat. I threw up my hands when she opened her mouth to continue. “No, one more second.”
She folded her arms and gave me a frown.
“All right, you can continue,” I told “I just thought we could use a little levity for a minute.”
The smile I'd just put on her face disappeared quickly behind a fog of worry. “I just want you to know this guy is dangerous and he's smart. He doesn't trust anyone.”
“How could any man not trust a face like yours?” I asked before leaning in and kissing her slowly and deeply. I wanted to get back to what we were doing before this conversation, but she pulled back.
“Well, he didn't.” She opened her mouth like she had more to say, but then closed it, looking like she was unsure of how to continue.
“Go ahead. Tell me.”
“Niles, I want this to be your last assignment. Our last assignment.” Her eyes started to water.
“Seriously? You kicking me to the curb?” I hadn't expected that to come out of her mouth. I mean, I thought we were solid.
“Us. I'm kicking us to the curb. We have money. Lots of it. I just don't want to do this anymore,” she said, her revelation shocking the hell out of me. “I need us to get out while we still can.”
“Then what do you want to do? 'Cause unless you've been hiding your true nature, you're not exactly the stay at home mom type.” I hoped my response didn't offend her, but I was just keeping it one hundred.
“I could be,” she said, and I could see her melting, softening.
“You're serious.”
She sat up and wrapped her arms around me, but not like normal. This felt like we were in an ocean, and I was her life preserver.
“Hey. What's wrong? Tell me,” I pleaded. She was holding something back, and I knew it.
“We need to get out. Go to Europe, the Caymans, somewhere. Get lost for a while and just disappear. The two of us. There's something going on that I'll explain when you return.”
“I can't leave my moms,” I told her. I didn't know what was at the root of all of this, but something had her shook, and she wasn't thinking clearly.
“Maybe she can come with us. Fresh air will do her some good.”
That made me laugh. “I can't even imagine my moms outside of Long Island.”
I felt unable to tell her what she needed to hear, and so I kissed her, hoping it would somehow comfort her. She had me so confused.
“I know. Just please be careful and remember everything you've learned. I want you back in one piece.”
I agreed. “We'll finish this discussion later. Now, tell me more about this El Gato so I can figure out exactly how I'm going to be the one to take him down.”
Majestic
56
The moment Bruce and I entered the private cigar club, a haven for rich men and their secrets, we were led over to our host. He was a sixty-year-old Mexican national surrounded by six of the most beautiful, provocatively dressed women I'd seen in my life. His son was seated beside him.
Bruce and I sat down next to them, and the party began when they handed us goblets of some of the smoothest cognac I'd ever tasted, along with hand-rolled Cuban cigars. Two hours later, the cognac was still flowing, and I was feeling real nice to the point where I almost forgot this was a business trip.
“I've gotta give it to you, old friend. I haven't had this much fun in quite a while. I appreciate the hospitality,” I told him, puffing on my cigar while my man Bruce draped his arms around the two beauties on either side of him.
Frank, our host, responded in his thick Spanish accent, “Majestic, my friend, considering the order you just placed with us, the pleasure is all mine. But the night is not over. There is still plenty to do.” He gestured at the young ladies.
“Man, you're spoiling me.” I laughed, planning for the night ahead with at least two of these women.
“However, I didn't invite you to the West Coast purely for pleasure. We have a mutual problem,” he informed me, pulling my attention away from the beauties before me. The mention of trouble changed everything.
“What kind of problem? If you need me to take care of something while I'm out here, Bruce and I can be like ghosts.”
His son, a handsome, light-eyed model type interrupted me. “It's a little more complicated than that. When Bruce inquired about a woman named Bridget St. John last week, the name didn't ring a bell, but when I mentioned it to my Pops . . .”
We all turned in his father's direction. “You know this woman?”
He took a deep breath and spoke, his voice dripping with disdain. “Sí, I know this Bridget St. John very well. She is a very dangerous bitch. Three years ago, she killed twenty of my men and almost killed me. Back then she went by the name of Bridget Pierre. It was a good thing that like a cat, El Gato has nine lives.”
I leaned in closer. “Well, El Gato, I have my own reasons for wanting to end her life, but I'm only too happy to add yours to the list. I swear, the pleasure will be all mine.”
“Ours.” Bruce chimed in.
A huge smile spread across El Gato's face. “I was so hoping you were going to say that.”
“But first I think I need to work off my anger right now,” I explained, staring at the bevy of beauties to drive home my statement.
“Of course. Take two, you and your partner,” he said, motioning to Bruce.
When I pointed to the gorgeous brunette sitting closest to him, he made a slight motion toward two other women, an Asian and a buxom blonde. I understood his meaning: the brunette was off limits to me. I didn't know why, but I wasn't about to press the issue. No sense in ruining a good business relationship over some pussy. The Asian and the blonde stood up, while the Latina honeys stayed glued to Bruce.
El Gato stood up. “Then it is settled. Tonight, you will fuck, and tomorrow, you will come to my house and I will tell you everything I know of this bitch, so that you can kill her.”
“I'll see you tomorrow,” I told him before we all made our way out of the club, my thoughts traveling from the women to the job ahead of me. I couldn't wait to get my hands on Bridget St. John.
BOOK: No More Mr. Nice Guy
5.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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