The D.C. Incident

The D.C. Incident

Short Story Sequel to The Moscow Affair

By

Taylor Lee

Praise for
The D.C. Incident
…

Riveting Short Story Sequel to Bestselling Sizzling Romantic Suspense
“The Moscow Affair
by Taylor Lee
.

“Politics, Corruption, Murder, and Sex. Must be Washington D.C. A rising political star who wants to be president hires the ISA’s team of sexy security agents to prove that his opponent, a sitting senator, bought his seat with dirty money. Enough twist and turns to keep the most avid mystery reader turning the pages.”

~ J John

“Nicki is Dark Phoenix with a knife. And there isn’t a weapon or martial arts move she doesn’t know. But she is the farthest thing possible from a team player. When her lone ranger tactics almost gets her killed for the third time, Rafe drops the hammer. Let the sizzle begin!”

~ Erotica Rocs

“When evidence leads to wrong doing by the client who hired them the ISA agents learn that corruption — and worse — is an equal opportunity crime in the nation’s capital.”

~ Action Junkie

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Prologue

“Jesus God! You could have killed me, you crazy bitch!”

Nicki Powers shrugged, nonchalantly tossing her mane of red hair over her shoulder.

“If I’d wanted to kill you, you
would
be dead.”

The startled man clutched at the arms of the overstuffed chair, his fingers white with the strain. A ten inch stiletto blade quivered in the chair back—two inches away from his face. Frozen in place, the man’s eyes were wide with shock. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and forehead. Nicki smiled to herself. Anyone who thinks you can’t smell fear should’ve been standing ten feet from her target.

Before his lackeys could reach her, Nicki reached into her thigh-high sheath and zinged another blade across the room. This time it landed a scant inch from the other side of the man’s head.

The shocked silence in the room was deafening.

Nicki smiled at the stunned man, his head pinned between the two still-vibrating blades.

“Hmm, sorry about that. Sometimes I get a little closer than I intend. But then, Senator, like you, I live dangerously.”

In the mad rush of trembling aides scurrying to help their screaming boss, and the others advancing on Nicki, Caleb’s cool voice rang out. The extended Glock in his hand added emphasis to his understated words.

“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you, gentlemen. You’ll have to excuse my partner. Nicki doesn’t take kindly to insults.”

Chapter 1

Rafe Boudin’s chuckle reverberated over the speaker phone.

“That’s an interesting way of making your point, Darling. But in the future you might think twice before potentially scaring our primary source to death.”

Nicki harrumphed.

“Well maybe the asshole should have thought twice before he came on to me.”

Caleb grinned at her.

“I think we can be sure he will in the future, hotstuff.” Turning toward the speakerphone, he added, “It was priceless, Rafe. Talk about grown men reduced to blithering idiots. But at least only two of them pissed their pants.”

“That you know of, Caleb.” Nicki allowed a slight smile to cross her lips. “I thought they all looked a little damp. And if you noticed, the Senator didn’t stand up before we left the room.”

“Hell, you’re right. We’ll have to see if they’ve replaced that chair the next time we meet.”

Caleb shook his head, a look of wonder on his handsome face.

“I wish you’d been there, Rafe. Jesus, man, after our little hotstuff nearly killed an incumbent United States Senator, she turned on her five-inch stiletto heels and without a backward glance sashayed out of the room as though she was the Queen of Fucking Egypt.”

Rafe’s amused voice echoed in the room.

“And I suppose you just followed her like an obedient puppy dog?”

Caleb winked at Nicki. “Hell yes. Think I’m crazy? Besides I almost peed
my
pants—only from laughing.”

At Nicki’s peal of laughter, Rafe broke in.

“Okay, you two. Enough hilarity for the moment. What happened to incite you Nicki? And did you get any useful information before the fucker annoyed you?”

Nicki did her best to contain her amusement. But hell it was hard to come down from an interchange like the one she’d had with the Senator. But Rafe was right. The Senator was their best source. Perhaps… she overplayed her hand a bit, but… the asshole deserved it. He was just damned lucky they needed him alive. She hadn’t been bragging; no one survived if she intended to kill him. Her father, a former
volk
in the Russian mafia, had given her a
kama
blade for her tenth birthday. He’d made her practice with it until she didn’t miss—ever.

Nicki pursed her lips focusing on Rafe’s question.

“We introduced ourselves to his gatekeeper as representatives of ISA—which got us in the door. Once we got inside, I told the Senator that our client was Representative Stephen Freeman, his opponent. And that Congressman Freeman had hired us to get information on how Senator Michaels had bought his Senate seat.”

Nicki laughed. “I thought a direct approach was best. It shocked him at first but then he and his aides seemed to think that was funny. He said anything that ‘fucking asshole Freeman’ wanted to know, he should ask.

“That was when the good Senator made his mistake. He said, and I quote: ‘So my esteemed opponent hired a hot piece of ass like you to do his dirty work? Out of curiosity, how much did he pay you for your
services
? Let me know. I’ve always liked natural redheads. You’d have to prove you are one first. But, if you can, I’ll pay you double what you’ve pimped yourself out for to Freeman.’ That lit my fuse, Rafe.”

Rafe’s low growl was audible over the telephone.

Caleb scowled. “Yeah, Rafe, I reacted the same way, but before I could ‘show’ my displeasure, hotstuff threw her first knife.”

Nicki smirked. “You have to admit, Sen. Michaels didn’t seem interested in my
services
after that.”

Rafe snorted. “Good work, both of you. Now Michaels knows that we are looking up his ass and that we won’t miss anything. In his urgency to cover his tracks, he’ll start making mistakes.”

Nicki heard Rafe’s quiet exhalation. She didn’t have to see him to know that he was smoking one of his trademark imported cigarettes. Even though his French-tinged voice was calm—as cool as ever—Nicki sensed his underlying tension. She could almost see his eyes flashing the dark emerald green that they turned when he was enraged. Or, she thought with a slight shuddering sensation between her legs, when he was preparing to make love to her.

“I’ll call the son of a bitch and commiserate with him and arrange for your next meeting. Oh, and Nicki, I’ll tell him, pleasantly of course, that if he or any of his sycophants so much as breathes on you, they will deal with me.” Rafe’s voice tightened. “Given the size of Senator Michaels’ balls, he’ll choke to death in less than a minute after I cut them off and stuff them in his mouth.”

Nicki raised an eyebrow and exchanged a confirming glance with Caleb. Neither one of them questioned Rafe’s threat. And it was a sure bet Senator Michaels wouldn’t either. Even among men as powerful as the Senator, Rafe was known and feared. The former special operative’s reputation for brutality was as well-known as his charm. No matter how influential they were, no one wanted to be on the wrong side of Rafe Boudin. And every one of the elite men who hired him and his International Security Associates gladly paid through the nose for their services. Nicki smiled, knowing that the fact that his opponent had hired ISA must be more terrifying to the Senator Michaels than the fact that she’d almost killed him.

~~~

Sipping on her glass of wine, Nicki fiddled with her napkin and tried to disguise her disgust with their host. Luckily Caleb always managed to put up with the bullshit better than she could. Charming and garrulous, Caleb kept up the conversation for both of them. He matched the repulsive man’s braggadocio stories, outdoing him every time. Glancing up at Rep. Stephen Freeman, Nicki wondered if all politicians were as disgustingly transparent as Sen. Michaels and their current client.

Even while chatting with Caleb, Freeman never took his lecherous gaze off of Nicki. Raking his eyes over her figure, he paused at every key body part, practically licking his lips. Was it their powerful positions, Nicki wondered? Or the fact that over the years they’d been taught that whatever or whoever caught their fancy, they could have. Money, influence, and especially women were theirs for the taking. It was disquieting at best that the only elected official with a worse womanizing reputation than Senator Michaels was their client, Rep. Freeman. The fact that the two of them were the golden boys in their respective political parties underscored that a moral compass was unnecessary equipment for budding presidential candidates. Which was why this race for the U. S. Senate was as important as it was. Whoever won, the lucky man was on a fast track to the presidency.

Apparently not capable of shame, Freeman interrupted his leering examination of her long enough to diss his opponent.

“So, Nicki, did that scurrilous bastard make a pass at you? I swear he can’t keep his prick in his pants around any woman. He’s like a rabid dog. Any bitch he sees, he assumes she must be in heat—for him. With someone who is as lovely as you are, his tongue must have been dragging on the floor.”

Caleb winked discreetly at Nicki confirming that the hypocrisy coming out of Freeman’s mouth was pure gold.

Freeman was too busy frowning at the imagined exploits of his opponent to notice Nicki and Caleb’s reaction. His mouth tipped up in disgust.

“It’s a good thing for Senator Michaels that womanizing is no longer considered an impediment to achieving high elected office. The public doesn’t seem to care anymore. Since Clinton’s time, the public has accepted that ‘men will be men,’ and given the pressure powerful men are under they can be forgiven the occasional indiscretion.”

Nicki was proud of herself that she managed to swallow her mouthful of salad without choking. This man truly was a piece of work. It was a good thing that Caleb was there to cover her incredulity. Nicki was usually good at masking her feelings. A poker face was a necessity in their line of work. But both Michaels and Freeman tried her sensibilities. Perhaps because one or the other of them had a sure shot at the presidency. After he knocked off his opponent and won the Senate race, that is.

Apparently unaware of the disdainful glances she and Caleb were exchanging, Freeman focused a serious frown on her. At least his frown seemed genuine, not like his politician’s plastic smile that curved his lips while his eyes remained cold and banked with contempt.

“Now, my dear, please remember that our wonderfully oblivious public could care less who is fucking whom, but they do care about who is stealing from the public trough. We all know goddamned well that Michaels bought his Senate seat. And I’m convinced that his money came from very unsavory sources. Now you and your egregiously expensive company need to give me irrefutable proof. Ironclad. Please understand: as I told that arrogant boss of yours, I don’t want to beat the insufferable son of a bitch. I want to crucify him.”