Chapter Five

Steve was in his car headed to the airfield. He hated the traffic, but it was part of the job now that he was back in DC on the regular. When he arrived at the airfield, he drove through the company gate and straight to the hangar. When he boarded the Gulfstream, he saw the file from Federal Protection, a division of The Department of Homeland Security, he needed to read so he got busy.

After they were airborne, he read through the file. It included everything he needed except the actual name of agent “Delilah”. What the fuck is going on here? he thought to himself. It wasn’t making sense. Why would either agency keep her name secret from the operational manager? The slight drone of the aircraft was making him drowsy; after all, he had only slept a couple hours before the wakeup from Jack at almost four-thirty AM.

He was thinking about field work. He hadn’t done much in the previous year. He had been in analytics, trying to clean up his act and maybe get a more stable life. That’s why Becky left; he was never around for more than a couple days every few months. Life, in the CIA.

He wanted desperately to be more domesticated but couldn’t stand the sedentary life of the suburbs. Becky wanted it all. The little house with a picket fence, two and a half kids, the whole nine yards. Not him. He was still young and wanted to do the daring shit he had always done, but you just can’t do that and also put someone else first. He loved his life and wouldn’t compromise what he considered living with suburban life.

~~~

He had met Becky about the time his Russia mission had come to an end. He was with her for about six months, the longest of any relationship he’d had since college. She was a lovely girl. She had graduated from the University of Maryland on a gymnastics scholarship about five years earlier. She was still built well and was as flexible as you would think.

They met at Park Lane Tavern near Langley. Her friend worked in the kitchen and she was there with some friends and Steve caught her eye. In a slight role reversal, she bought him a drink and sent it to his table. He politely accepted it and tipped it to her in thanks.

She walked up to the table where Jack and Steve were sitting and asked if she could sit. Jack stood, politely excused himself and offered his seat. “I was just about to go anyway. See you tomorrow, Steve.”

Steve stood, shook his hand and said, “See ya, buddy. Nine?”

“Nine-thirty down three, twenty-nine,” said Jack.

“Got it. Nine-thirty, down three-two-nine,” said Steve.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” said Becky.

“No. It’s okay. We were just talking shop.”

“Oh. Okay. What do you do?” she asked.

He knew she would ask. It’s a polite conversation, but in the DC area, most people have learned not to ask.

“Well, I just transferred into the George Bush Center for Intelligence. Tomorrow is my first day in a new job,” he offered.

“Yikes. A spook,” she laughed.

“No. Not hardly. It’s a desk job. The meeting is to lay out my responsibilities. What do y…”

She interrupted, “Cool. Look, I hate to be the ‘dude’ here, but I think you’re good looking and I was wondering if you had any interest in heading down the street to that hotel and fucking me until I can’t walk to my car?”

He nearly spit his beer. He had never been propositioned like that before. He stuttered, “Sh, sure. I can do that.”

He paid the tab, she waved to her friends and to the parking lot they went. She pointed out her car, a sporty, blue Ford compact. She said, “Follow me.”

He got in his black '69 Nova and followed her a couple of miles to the Double-Tree.

He grabbed a couple of condoms from the glovebox, shoved them in his pocket and went in. He got a room and took her down the hall to follow up on the earlier conversation.

When they got in the room, she went into the bathroom to freshen up. She left the door cracked a little and he could see her in the mirror. She had one foot on the counter and was washing off her nearly hairless pussy. She put her foot on the floor and he watched as she spritzed a little perfume on her wrists and rubbed her neck with them. She did a little number on her hair, backed up and looked at herself. He backed away from the door.

As she came out, he went in. He cleaned himself up and walked back out. She was sitting on the edge of the bed.

He walked over and started to lift her to her feet, but she moved his hands away and went for the pants. She opened his pants and his cock stood straight out. Her face was close. She pushed his pants down and he stepped out of them. She grabbed his cock and pulled the thick monster to her mouth.

She started sucking on the head, up and down the shaft. As she worked, he pulled his shirt off and threw it on the chair in the corner of the room. He kicked his pants in the same direction.

She tugged on his balls and started sucking in his cock. She was really getting after it. She was taking it in till it hit the back of her throat and twisting her hand on the upstroke. She went at it for a bit, until he said, “Shit, stop, I’m going to pop.”

She stopped and looked up at him with a sneaky grin, “You need to do something for me, in that case.”

He pushed her back on the bed and knelt in front of her hot and wet pussy. He lifted her legs up onto the bed and stuck his face right in that wet little mess. Her fine pubic hair was soft on his face. He rubbed it all over. She smelled heavenly as he took in her fragrance. It wasn’t the perfume; it was her natural aroma of sex. He began to kiss her pussy from above her clit all the way down to her taint. He would flick his tongue on her ass every so often and it would make her wiggle her sweet little ass.

He stopped and planted a kiss right by her opening and probed it with his tongue. He split her lips and pushed forward with his mouth moving up to engulf her clit. He began to suck it as he licked her pussy. He moved off and shoved his tongue in her love hole then moved back to her clit again. After doing this a few times he concentrated on her clit.

Sucking it and swirling his tongue around it, he heard her moan, “Yesss. That feels good. Right there.” She started moving her hips more.

He kept on licking and sucking as he had been.

She started to tense and said, “Oooh hell. I’m cumming. Don’t fucking stop.” With that, she exploded and bucked nearly causing him to bite off his tongue.

He moved away enough to get his bearings again and tried to put his mouth back in place. She wouldn’t let him; he had to just kiss around on it as she was quite sensitive now.

He kissed his way up her body and onto the bed. She grabbed around his neck as he got there and pulled herself to him. He used this motion to pull her further onto the bed. He kissed her deeply and started to grab a condom.

“Now,” she moaned.

He bit the corner and ripped the packet, rolled it on and pressed forward.

He began to slowly push his cock into her pussy. His thick meat was stretching her to her limit. He could see her grimace as he got deeper. “Do you need me to stop?”

“Oh gawd no. Keep going,” she growled.

He did. When he got to the bottom he stopped and let her rest for a second. He pulled back until the head almost popped out and pushed forward with a bit more force this time.

“Ermphf. A little faster,” she said.

He changed gears. Moving faster he could now see a smile on her face. He kept at a steady pace for her. She was moaning and pressing the back of her head into the pillow and bucking her pubic bone into his.

She was really getting into it as she let out a loud moan and said, “I’m going to cum again. Fuck me hard. Fuck me.”

He got up into a kneeling missionary position, sped up and used more force. He was getting close as well. He was fucking her like a jackhammer. Man, this pussy was good.

She was moving even more and fucking him back as hard as he was fucking her. She was tightening her pussy muscles around his prick making him get closer to climaxing.

“Where do you want me to cum?”

“Just keep fucking me, Steve. Don’t you fucking stop. I’m cumming again. Hmmmm. Uh huh. Oh, fuck me. Ooooh!” She came hard, bucking and convulsing in a wild manner, slapping her pussy against him as he fucked her. She was coming down and was smiling and slowing her roll a little.

“I’m cumming,” said Steve.

“Show me. Cum on my belly.”

He pulled out and removed the condom and immediately came on her soft, smooth belly, spurting a couple of strands up to her tits.

“Mmmmm. So much cum. I like it,” she purred. This gal was all about her and he was okay with it. What a lay. He was satisfied and she seemed to be as well.

“If you want, we can shower and stay all night. No strings. My legs are a bit noodly from the amazing sex. I’m going to need to rest them for a while and I wouldn’t mind another go,” smiled Steve.

“You were supposed to fuck me till I couldn’t walk to the car.”

“Well, can you?” asked Steve.

“Um. Not really. Plus, I think I want another go at you,” said Becky.

They got up to shower. As soon as they stepped into the warm water, they started making out again. They would wash and touch each other in the erotic zones. After a little bit of cleaning, Steve pulled Becky to him and gave her a deep kiss. She reached down and began to stroke his big love organ. It was hard in no time. She stroked it as they kissed. She broke their kiss and only stopped stroking to turn her back to him. She bent over and backed herself to him.

He took the hint and put his bare dick in her wanton pussy. He slid it in; the heat was incredible. It was so wet and not just from the shower. He began to fuck her. He was giving her all she wanted. He didn’t know how long he would last bareback. He was almost lifting her feet off the ground with each plunge.

They had been going at it for a while. She had been stopping every so often, sensing he was getting close when Steve saw Becky’s head lower as she bent down further; the water was running down her face and through her hair as he plowed her. She was taking each stroke with a slam back against him. It really was some very good shower sex.

He started to moan as did Becky. She was fucking him back harder and it sent him over the edge. He tried to pull out, but she pressed herself against him and he came in her hot pussy. He blasted her womb with his cum. Spurt after spurt, he pressed harder and harder against her until she separated from him, stood and turned to him.

She backed away and lifted one leg onto the side of the tub. She showed him the cum dripping from her pussy. “Look what you did, Steve. You naughty boy. What if…”

He grabbed her and kissed her deeply, “I don’t give a fuck about what if.”

~~~

He was shaken awake by a pocket of turbulence. He was glad no one else was on the plane with him when he noticed the massive hard-on standing straight out. He’d have to take care of that itch.

He went back to the lavatory and locked the door. He pulled out his cock and started to stroke, thinking of that first tryst with Becky. Remembering the taste of her lips and her pussy. The feeling of her hot, wet vagina on his prick.

He began to stroke faster. He spat in his hand to give some slickness. He twisted his hand at the head like she did when sucking. He stiffened his legs and came in the sink. It had been a while since he masturbated, but the memory was so vivid. He was flush and sweaty now, but more relaxed and ready for the rest of the day.

Chapter Six

After he cleaned up and settled himself, he walked up to the cockpit, “How much longer, Major?”

“You’d better prepare for landing. It’ll be in about fifteen minutes.”

He went back to his seat, fastened his belt and the pilot began the descent into Louisville Regional Airport.

He would grab a rental car and drive the couple hours to Evansville. A Gulfstream carrying a single person into the Evansville Regional might raise a flag to the locals.

He walked to the rental counter and rented the most nondescript mid-size vehicle they had, a tan Toyota Camry and started the trek to southern Indiana. Not a bad trip since a commute from Langley to D.C. took two hours in the morning; this two-hour blast on the interstate would be a cake walk.

He reminisced about the dream earlier but pushed it out of his mind. He needed to prepare for the task at hand. The missing operative’s handler was going to get grilled. He had to drill down to the exact moment they lost contact. You couldn’t let this sort of thing happen. This is why you don’t let a bunch of bureaucrats like this DHS stepchild run point, he thought.

They just weren’t equipped like the Agency to handle this sort of thing. It often seemed forty people had to approve each and every move, but with the CIA not being authorized to perform clandestine operations against citizens on American soil, it was necessary on this investigation. He would now be the agent in charge in the field, but his authority would fall under the purview of Homeland Security. Ultimately, he was on loan to them now that he was in the field.

He went over the file in his head, still wondering, Who the hell is this Delilah?

He arrived at the apartment where the field officers were staying. He had called ahead and let them know he was close. As he pulled in a man was leaning against a car in the parking lot. He recognized him from the photo in the file. It was Officer Tom Dayern, Delilah’s handler. He was the typical undercover type: disheveled and unkempt, smoking, by what butts he could see on the ground, multiple packs a day.

Steve parked, got out and walked up to Tom. “Hello, I’m Steve Baker. Is Proctor here?”

“No. I’m Tom Dayern. She is in St. Louis for a meeting concerning the call today, where I’m sure she got her ass handed to her because of me. She stayed over for the conference call this morning. You here to figure out where I fucked up?”

“No, sir. I am here to help you get her back. The figuring-out shit is for someone else.” He knew he was there to figure it out, but what good would it do to let Tom know and build a wall in the first minutes of arriving?

With as rough as Tom looked, the apartment was spotless. It seemed he wanted to appear like a slob but was meticulous or Proctor wouldn’t put up with a mess. They sat down at the table and pulled out their respective files.  

“What was the last day and time you spoke to your operative?”

“Friday the seventeenth at eight PM. We sat at neighboring tables at Lamasco’s bar on Franklin and Sixth,” Tom said matter of factly.

“Okay. What was the nature of the discussion?”

“She had signaled that she wanted to talk. She said AFPOP was going to be moving some heavy stuff in the next few days and would let me know when and where as soon as she knew something.”

“What did she mean by ‘heavy’?”

“Not sure. One of the guys she walked in with came over and told me to get lost. I bowed up but left. Didn’t want to make a scene but wanted to look insulted,” said Tom. “She left her tag three days later, on the wall outside Broadway Liquor on the southwest side of town. I waited for her at the meeting place indicated, but no show.”

“Any indication of an issue at the bar?”

“No. She was all smiles,” Tom said.

“Okay. Where is their base of operations in town?” asked Steve.

“You want to drive by?”

“How far is it?”

“Just fifteen minutes away,” said Tom.

“Great. I could eat anyway,” said Steve.

They got in Tom’s car and headed down the road, stopping at a drive-thru for a burger for Steve on the way. As they got close Tom slowed the car and started explaining where the guards were and what vehicles came in and out...when Steve saw something that made him do a double take.

“I think I just saw someone I know,” said Steve.

“What? How th--”

“No. Really. Make another loop around the block.”

Tom drove around the block and Steve looked in the fenced lot in the general direction of the figure that he recognized.

“Nope. Not her.” Something was still making him uneasy about it.

“Okay. Where to?”

“The bar where you met Delilah that last night.”

“Yeah. About that…”

“Just fucking drive,” interrupted Steve.

Chapter Seven

They were at Lamasco’s sitting near the tables Tom and she had sat a few weeks earlier, not doing anything but drinking when Steve noticed a small, square protrusion on one of the table’s legs. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was a wireless microphone. Steve “accidentally” knocked it off the table and stepped on it as he was walking back to his table.

“Shit. This is might be why she’s gone,” said Tom. “We need to talk about her.”

“Could be. Maybe they heard you two talking and eliminated the threat. Is anyone here from that night?”

“Just the barkeep and the waitress. Some of these folks are regulars,” answered Tom.

“You always meet here?”

“No only a couple times. It’s close enough to their compound but not so close it’s full of their fr--”

“What do you mean, ‘We need to talk?’ what’s on your mind?” asked Steve.

“Delilah’s na--”

“Not here. Shit. I dunno, man, it’s pretty fucking close to the compound. Less than ten minutes. Could be more of their friends here than you suspect. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Look. Are you trying to--”

Steve interrupted, “Not now, dammit. Just saying. Look around. See if anyone strikes you as familiar from that night. And let’s get out of here.”

Tom didn’t see any familiar faces, so they got up and left after a couple of burgers and beers.

On the way back to the hotel Tom spoke up, “You need to listen closely. The officer missing is someone you know: Patrice Andrews. She has been with us from almost the beginning of the operation.”

“What the fuck? Now I’m getting it. Keeping me in the dark the whole time because I had a personal relationship with your inserted operative. Bullshit!”

“Not my call,” said Tom, “Someone above my pay grade made that deal.”

“Deal? What fucking deal?”

“You might want to contact your boss,” Tom relented.

Baker seethed the rest of the way to the hotel, running the conversation he was going to have with Jack in his head.