He was lying nude in a motel room rented under an assumed name. And the lovely brunette who was checking the strength of the ropes that bound his ankles and wrists was most definitely not his wife.
Sandra Locke wore a black negligee that emphasized her slim, athletic figure. Her high heels clicked on the floor as she moved away from Matthews, examining her handiwork with a smile. “Johnny, you look good enough to eat.”
Matthews laughed, a mixture of nervousness and excitement making his voice higher than normal. “Never done anything like this before. You’re gonna be gentle, right?”
Locke pursed her lips but she said nothing. She wandered over to a nearby chair and bent over to retrieve something from her purse. Matthews admired the view, licking his lips in anticipation. He’d spent the past two weeks wining and dining this woman and he was eager to sample her wares. He didn’t mind if she was a bit kinky. Truth be told, he had a few desires that he’d never dare broach to his wife. Maybe Miss Locke was the sort of woman who wouldn’t mind indulging in those fantasies.
“I found myself thinking about your work the other day, Johnny. You oversee so many hardened criminals, all locked up tight in that prison of yours. I bet you keep a close eye on the most dangerous ones, don’t you?”
“Hell, yes!” He laughed, thinking that this wasn’t the first woman he’d met who was turned on by the perceived dangers of his job. Truth be told, it did take some bravery to stare down some of those hardened killers.
“What do you know about Jonah Craig? Is he one of the ones you keep a close on?”
Matthews blinked, the question taking him by surprise. Locke was standing up again, a bullwhip held in her hands. She cracked it expertly on the floor, making him jump. “Hey, now! Nothing like that,” he said. “I don’t want anything that hurts.”
Locke pouted, swinging her hips as she approached the bed. “Johnny. Answer my question.”
Matthews took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I know him. Skinny little big brain who got caught trying to steal some stuff from the Sovereign Museum. What about him?”
Locke crawled onto the bed, settling her hips just above the councilman’s excited member. “I want to play a game. You offer me something and then I offer you something. Interested?”
Matthews stared into the valley between her breasts. “Whatever you want.”
“I want you to get me in to see Craig.”
“Why?”
“Does it matter?” she asked, reaching back to grip him with her left hand.
Matthews grunted. “Sure. I can do that. As long as you’re not gonna try and break him out.” He smiled broadly. “Now what do I get?”
Locke removed her grip, using both of her hands to stretch the whip’s lash into a tight coil. She quickly looped it around the warden’s neck, tightening it until he was gasping for air. “You get to live,” she said with a cool smile. “Now I’m going to tell you a few more things that I want and you’re going to agree to give me each and every one of them. And if you say no to even one of them, I’m going to hurt you.”
When he felt her hold loosen slightly, he whispered, “Crazy bitch! I’m going to see your ass in jail for this!”
Locke reached between her breasts, pulling forth a vial of lipstick. She applied it to her lips before leaning forward and pressing her mouth to his. He resisted for a moment before the chemicals took hold, weakening his will.
The lipstick would have been enough to get what she wanted but Locke enjoyed the domination/submission game, so she made sure that Matthews could still offer some resistance.
Matthews stared at her blearily. “Are you going to have sex with me?” he asked, sounding like a little boy pleading for candy.
“We’ll see. Depends on how happy you make me.” Locke slapped the side of his head, hard enough that he saw stars. “I think you and I are going to become very good friends, Johnny. You’re going to help me right some serious wrongs.”
“Don’t hurt me,” he whimpered.
Locke tightened the noose again. “Ah,” she said with forced regret. “Now that… that I can’t promise.” Her pink tongue darted out, slowly traveling over her full red lips. “In fact, I can pretty much guarantee that it’s going to hurt more than a little. I like it that way.”
THREE HOURS LATER, Locke smiled at the hotel doorman and stepped into the passenger seat of a green sedan. The man behind the wheel wore a black suit and gloves. The brim of his fedora was pulled down low, partially obscuring the mean features of his face. His name was Daniel “Quick Dan” Nunn and he was well known to the authorities, having been arrested nearly a half dozen times in the past few years alone. It was only because his skills had been utilized by so many in the underworld that he’d avoided ending up in Matthews’ prison for any real stretch of time.
“How’d it go?” he asked, pulling out onto the street.
“The Warden agreed to help me.”
“Heh. I bet he did.”
“I told him I’d be at the prison tomorrow afternoon at two. He’s going to take me in to see Jonah then.”
“And you don’t think he’ll come to his senses before then?”
“That’s not the way the chemicals work and you know it. They stay in his system for up to two weeks — longer if I give him another dose. He’ll do whatever he’s told until then.”
“Good news,” Quick Dan said with a nod. “I did my end of it, too. Dropped the parcel off at Hendry Hall and then hightailed it out of there. Nobody saw a thing.”
Locke ran a hand through her hair. She smelled of booze, cigarettes and sex. It made her long for a bath. Unfortunately, they had one stop left before she could indulge in relaxation.
Quick Dan pulled into the Chinatown district, navigating the narrow streets with familiarity. He parked behind a small shop that had once belonged to a man named Bingwen but the crafty old man known for selling occult relics had died several months ago, killed by a maniac who dubbed himself Thanatos[2].
Locke was already out of the car before Quick Dan had killed the engine. She strode to the back door of the shop and knocked. When no one answered, she discovered that it was unlocked and entered, Quick Dan right at her heels. She felt his hand go around her waist, pulling her close.
“You gonna tell me all the details?” he hissed into her ear.
Locke resisted the urge to laugh. Sometimes she thought Quick Dan enjoyed hearing all the ‘gory little details’ more than he did taking part in sexual activities himself. “Maybe later,” she teased, pulling away from him. He groaned in disappointment but she didn’t want to play one of their games right now. She was tired and she had business that had to be attended to.
They strode into what had once been the heart of Bingwen’s store: a large room that had previously been lined with display cases and shelves. All of that was gone now, leaving nothing but peeling wallpaper and dusty floors behind.
The sole occupant of the room was currently wielding a katana, spinning about as he slashed at a series of wooden figures that were mounted in a semi-circle around him. Of Japanese descent, the man was undeniably good-looking, with somewhat longish black hair and dark eyes. His lips and cheekbones were almost feminine but he retained the slim physique of well-toned athletic male. Dressed in black pants, dark boots and a white shirt, Hiroshi Tamaki cut a dashing figure as he performed a series of expert maneuvers with his weapon. His training session came to an end when he delivered a blow that removed the head from one of the wooden figures.
He straightened, flipping his hair back out of his eyes, and turned with a smug smile to face Locke and Quick Dan. He bowed low, speaking with only a faint trace of accent. “I trust that you have both performed your assignments?”