He looked back at the girl in her shower. This girl was completely different At least this one was real!
The club’s dining facilities were out of this world, offering a whole expansive vista of gourmet delights for the discerning diner.
An enormous circular room, with an open veranda along most of the circumference, it was cool and airy, with tables set amongst potted plants and indoor palm trees. Having so much room enabled each table to be far enough away from its neighbour to accord privacy without losing the dining experience.
A central stage area held a small band that was playing a continuous medley of popular music, with a more than adequate singer with an exceptional range of different songs.
Maxwell Huntercombe couldn’t remember when he had enjoyed an evening more.
His companion was not only delightfully superior, arrogant and dominant, but she was also staggeringly beautiful. He was amazed to find that although she had very little in common with him, she still managed to converse intelligently about matters in which he was knowledgeable and experienced.
She treated him with a mixture of amusement and haughty disdain, which was an incredible turn-on for him. He was dying to share his secret with her, in the hope she would be willing to be party to some ‘entertainment’ later. However, common sense prevailed, and he knew she would probably run a mile and never want to have anything to do with him, while letting his secret out of the bag at the same time. This latter fear was so deeply embedded in his psyche that he was determined not to make a fool of himself.
They enjoyed the meal, after which she stated she was tired, thanked him for his company, and retired to her chalet. Max returned to his own chalet, dressed in a rubber skirt, inserted a large butt-plug and accompanying accessories and masturbated. Once sated, he stayed in his soiled and sweaty clothes and fell asleep, unaware that he was now captured on Manolo’s private video collection.
Some distance away, Ryan had a small single room apartment in the staff quarters. As he shut the door behind him, he ran his fingers through his damp hair and smiled. It had been a long time since he’d been a patrol cop, and he had actually quite enjoyed walking around in the sunshine. He wondered what Michelle was up to, feeling anxious and concerned that she was out of his immediate field of protection. He was, however, powerless to do anything other than live out his cover, feeling slightly jealous that Michelle was enjoying such luxury compared to him.
Michelle loved every minute of this job. She felt more alive than at any time in her life. She had someone to love and who loved her unconditionally, despite knowing all her ugly truths. She was playing a role, as important as any on Broadway or in London's West End, and so adored fooling everyone she encountered. Strangely, she had always experienced a kick from fooling people that she was female, but now, she was actually coming round to actually believing that lie herself.
No, it wasn't a lie any more, as she was finally the person she had always wanted to be, in circumstances she could never had envisioned, even in her wildest dreams.
Michelle smiled as she went to bed; her only regret was that Ryan wasn't beside her.
Once again, Sean found himself playing a waiting game. For so long his waiting had been in vain, but the success of the island operation had given him renewed patience and hope. He had great faith in his two agents, but still worried, as any manner of small incident could completely upset their plans and place them in danger. Such were the circumstances that there was very little he could do to assist them, apart from hoping they were able to rely on their wits. Ryan’s position was relatively secure, so he was better placed to keep a protective eye on Michelle. Even so, she was so vulnerable that Sean spent many a sleepless night worrying about her.
While the girl in question slept soundly in her luxurious suite, her boss and her lover lay awake worrying. Deep in the bowels of the island, the night shift worked. A shipment arrived by road, supposedly as a large consignment of housekeeping logistic supplies: toilet paper and the like. Once the vehicle was secured in the underground loading bay, the genuine supplies were removed, allowing access to the $50,000,000 worth of white powder. This was the first major shipment to arrive, and exceeded all expectations with both the ease of its passage and rapidity of its dispersal to the many dealers loyal to the cartel. Carlos received the news of the success with some reservation, as he knew that the arrival of fresh supplies on US streets would cause extra interest into the origins by the authorities. Such a big shipment would have a detrimental effect on the prices, as supply would now more than meet demand.
"Make sure you get the dealers to only release a little at a time," he advised Manolo. The reality of the situation was out of his control, as dealers, in a move to make extra money wouldn't heed the advice of someone so distant and would already be planning to cut the product to increase their own profits. It was sufficiently pure to allow cutting to around five to fifteen percent, by the time the product reached the users on the street. The wealthier users would appreciate a purer product, but those addicts in run-down housing and squats would be taking a product cut with all manner of nasty substances, many being fortunate not to meet an untimely end.
Ricardo, now back at home with his family, was also not sleeping. Despite his wife's urgings to return to bed, he was busy scanning many documents to attempt the identification of this MICHELLE character who may or may not be either alive or a DEA agent.
He'd followed the lead to the Mangrove swamp, meeting an equally dead end as had Sean and Ryan some months previously. His discreet enquiries with the sheriff's department where Nadia's body had been dealt with were infuriating. The records showing the presence of a Renate Heber were as useless as everything else, as she clearly gave false details that led nowhere. The name she had given Maria - Renate Müller, was also untraceable.
Whoever the travesti was, her past was completely blank. The word on the street from those he’d met who had seen her act was that she was European, probably German, French or Belgian. The over talkative barman never knew she was not a girl, while the bouncer believed that she was working in the country illegally. One thing was clear, she wasn’t American.
Exactly at what point the person had become an agent was unclear, but Ricardo suspected that the DEA had used some form of coercion or blackmail to make her do as she did. Probably threatening to arrest and deport her for working without the correct papers.
Once he'd reached this conclusion, Ricardo began to suspect that perhaps the girl had died, as the authorities would be seriously embarrassed if any news of what they'd done hit the media. If she wasn’t dead, then she was hiding out somewhere obscure, deep in the witness protection programme, probably as a school teacher in a small town in Arkansas or Louisiana. Her payment, Ricardo thought, was in all probability US citizenship and a new life.
Settling that in his mind eased a great burden, so Ricardo decided to deal with her slow time; after all, he had all the time in the world, but at the moment, he had more pressing concerns with which to contend.
Chapter 16.
Over the next few days, Michelle almost forgot that she was working, as she enjoyed almost all the facilities of the club, which included improving her already golden tan.
Ryan, on the other hand, was kept busy. The security team were professional, more professional than some small town police departments he had worked with in the past. The shifts rotated rapidly, as did the work. The Chief of Security was a man called George Moreno, but he wasn’t an Anglo. Ryan knew from the gossip and the back-ground checks from Sean that the man had been a police lieutenant of Mexican descent in Arizona twenty years previously, but had been dismissed out on suspicion of corruption, which, incidentally, was proved at an internal hearing, but never got to court.