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flymyhp · 4 years

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Dirty dancing with Draco Malfoy

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

A/N: it's been a minute! That's because I've been working on this wonderful 80's themed collab with @quadrupledeckertaco @probably-peeves and @melody-studyblr. Thank you to these lovely people for letting me join in. Hope you enjoy!! And absolutely check out their work because they're all very talented. Much love!

Green. Everything seemed that way except for the sky, a bright blue with a glowing sun beaming down through the windows of our car. My father was driving, talking to my mother who was sitting petitely in the passenger seat, mumbling small compliments to my sister Hermione who was beside me in the backseat singing.

“I am improving, aren’t I? You’re right mom, this summer is going to be the best I’ve had.”

That was the summer of 1963—when everybody called me Baby, and it didn’t occur to me to mind. That was before President Kennedy was shot, before the Beatles came, when I couldn’t wait to join the Peace Corps, and I thought I’d never find a guy as great as my dad. That was the summer we went to Kellerman’s.

Kellerman’s was a resort in Virginia, with a big lake and entertainment every night. My father was friends with the man who owned it, and this summer I would have the gross pleasure of meeting his son Blaise, who I’d heard so much about on the way.

“We’ll get settled and unpacked first, this way to our cabin. Then to lunch!” My father said with his and mothers suitcase in hand and sunglasses propped up on top of his head.

Hermione skipped behind him and our mother with her bag over her shoulder and long frizzy brown hair bouncing half bunched on top of her head. I watched as she spun around, admiring the view of the resort.

It was pretty, very pretty and natural. Trees overlapped our cabin that was just coming into view up the stairs on the side of a hill and there was a perfect view of the lake from our porch.

“I’m taking this bed, baby. I want the window view.” Hermione chirped as the four of us entered the cabin.

“Fine with me.” I sat my bag down on the bed with a sigh. I was excited to be here, not as excited at the idea that I might see Blaise at lunch. Or any time throughout the vacation for that matter. “Hey Mione, have you met Blaise Zabini?”

She furrowed her brows in thought. “Is he the dancer? I’ve heard he’s really good, he performs the final dance with Pansy Parkinson. I’d love to be in her shoes, I bet I could do better than she does.” She droned on and on about the wrong person.

“The owners son, I mean. I don’t know any of the dancers.” I interrupted her, annoyed.

Hermione’s always been talkative and perky. You’d think she was rude if you didn’t know her, but she just can’t help it.

“Oh! I’ve met him on one of daddy’s golfing trips.” I gagged at the word ‘daddy’. “He’s very nice and a proper gentleman, not my type but he’s heard a lot about you.” She giggled and faced the window, bouncing on her toes impatiently.

I wondered what she meant by that. I’d heard a lot about him too, he’s not my type either from the sound of it. A spoiled rich kid who takes what he wants. I also wondered about the dancers Hermione was talking about.

Everyone was unpacked and settled in nicely, so we headed to lunch in the main hall. We sat down at a four person table and waited on a server. Small talk was on its way, I turned my head to look at the hall in order to avoid it.

A voice raised a few tables down. I turned my head to look.

“Draco Malfoy. The dancer I was telling you about.” Hermione giggled beside me. He had blond, almost white hair and was leant over a server, who was a good size smaller than him.

“You’re the entertainment, Malfoy. You have no right.” The brown haired server whimpered out.

“I could get you out of here in no time.” Draco snapped. “Get the damn orders right.”

I didn’t want to stare, but I couldn’t look away either. Why did he care so much? I hadn’t noticed him look at me until a figure right next to my face snapped me out of my trance.

“Blaise.” Hermione whispered to me. With a glance her way, she was smirking.

Great.

“Mr. Zabini.” My dad nodded his head at Blaise.

“Mr. Granger. This must be baby.” Blaise looked me up and down grossly and held his hand out to me. I hesitantly took it. To no surprise, he kissed it. I worked wonders not to show my uncomfort. My father and Blaise talked for a few minutes about the resort and how much money his family has until he eventually left, shooting a wink at me.

I let out a sigh as he left. My head turned back to where Draco Malfoy had been standing, he wasn’t anymore.

“He’s a nice boy, baby.” My father looked up at me.

I forced a small smile, not looking up. I wanted him to drop it. The last few minutes of lunch I sat with my head down hoping no one would say anything else about the subject.

I walked around the resort with Hermione for most of the day. Eventually I found myself just watching her swim with some people she’d met. Mother and father had gone golfing with some of their friends and left us to find something to do, which you wouldn’t think would be hard here.

Six came up on us pretty quickly, Hermione said goodbye to her friends for the day so we could get back to the cabin and get ready for dinner in the hall. Hermione dressed up more than I did, which is always expected. We met our parents at the entrance of the hall and sat down at a booth with them. We got our food ordered and I did well to hide from anyone I didn’t want to speak to, Blaise.

I held a decent conversation with my family as we ate, nothing too special. We were mainly just waiting for the show like everybody else.

The lights dimmed and most of the room went silent. The music that was playing changed and grew louder as a spotlight landed on two people on the stage in front of us. Draco malfoy with Pansy Parkinson's hand in his.

My eyes widened as I stared. Pansy had a beautiful muted pink ball gown dress on, and Draco was wearing a white dress shirt and black formal pants.

They took the first step as the music stopped getting louder and a steady beat formed. Their feet followed along to it.

Pansy knew how to work the crowd. It wasn't a formal dance, but it wasn't too vulgar. Her hands worked the skirt of her dress flawlessly and Draco worked with her perfectly.

He lifted her into the air effortlessly, her chest slid against his seductively as he set her down. She spinned like a top with her skirt following her as the room cheered them on.

The final step of the dance led them to the stage with pansy's leg posted up on Draco's shoulder, his hands on her hips as she leaned back and the lights shut off.

I couldn't hear it but I knew the room was going crazy. Well, as crazy as a bunch of rich middle aged couples could get.

That was the wrap up of dinner for the first night. I knew my parents would want to stay and talk to some of their friends so I stood up with Hermione and took her arm.

"Let's go back to the cabin before they start tying us into arranged marriages." I giggled at her and she agreed.

I couldn’t sleep that night. Everything called to me except the bed I was in. Careful not to wake a sleeping Hermione up, I pulled the covers up and slipped out of the cabin. The night was the type of quiet it should be, trees rustled with the singing of cicadas. A boy was walking my way when I got to the bridge leading to the main hall. He was carrying three watermelons, and then he wasn’t.

“Shit.” He did his best to pick them both back up. I jogged closer to him and picked one of them up. “Thanks. Kitchens just up this way.”

“Do you know Blaise?” I asked him without thinking. I realized I probably should’ve started off slower, but I guess my head was filled with gross images of what had happened at lunch.

He scoffed. “Yeah. I know him. A real asshole. He has a thing for getting us to seduce the women that come in on vacation.”

I rolled my eyes at the thought of him. "And what about Draco Malfoy?"

"He's put together, strong-headed but he's got a kind heart. What's your name by the way?' he asked.

"Baby. That's what everyone calls me."

"Well baby, I'm Vincent. Everyone calls me Crabbe." He gave me a smile.

We got to the kitchens of the main hall. Through the windows I could see the Zabini's socializing with their guests. I tried to keep my head down.

"This way, baby." Crabbe passed me. I set the watermelon down with the other two. Then I wasn't sure what to do. "You want to see something?" He gave me a smirk.

"Depends."

"It'll be fun. Follow me."

He led me out of the kitchens and down a path behind the building. It was a bit of a walk but through some trees there was another building that looked like a cabin. Muffled music came from it.

"Do you know how to dance?" Crabbe asked, nudging my shoulder and opening the door.

It was unlike anything I'd ever seen. The place was small but so many people were packed into it, dancing under the fluorescent lights. Not ballroom dancing like at the nightly shows, it was hot, and I knew I couldn't dance like this.

"This way." Crabbe took my hand. My feet worked on their own as my eyes wandered from the people in front of me.

"Crabbe!" We stopped. Standing in front of us was Draco Malfoy. "What are we going to do about the final show?"

Oblivious to the conversation, I looked at the girl beside him. She was leaning up against a post in the room. She was tall. Dark brown hair and a look of disgust on her face.

"Who's this." She interrupted the boys conversation, looking directly at me.

I looked away from her and lowered my head.

"This is baby. I told you already, Draco, I haven't found anyone yet. The final show isn't for another week. We've got time." Crabbe argued. Then, he looked to me and smiled. An idea flickered in his eyes. "Actually, maybe I have."

"Her? Does she even dance?" Draco looked me up and down, but not the way Blaise did. The opposite.

"No I don't-" I started.

"She does. She can learn." I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't feel like lying to these people, I didn’t even know them. But I also didn't feel like dancing, or learning.

I remembered what Hermione had told me. Draco performed the final show with Pansy. Was she Pansy?

"Pansy? Why can't you do it?" I asked.

Draco rolled his eyes and gave Crabbe a look of idiocy.

"Something came up. Go back to your playpen, baby." Pansy snapped and turned her back.

"Just give her a shot, Draco." Crabbe seemed too trusting for his own good. I was certain I couldn't do it.

Draco pushed past him, grabbing my hand and stomping his feet to the center of the room. I was awestruck. I couldn't do this.

He grabbed my waist when we stopped. His hips moved to the beat of the music blaring through the room. His finger tapped my waist and he nodded at me.

"To the beat, c'mon." His eyes never left mine.

I did my best to move my hips the same way he was. It was difficult. I'd never done anything like this and I'm sure if my family could see me they'd drop dead.

"Good, good. Now like this." He moved his hips the opposite way and held my chin to keep eye contact.

I could feel Crabbe and Pansy's eyes boring into me as I attempted to keep up with Draco. This whole situation felt so odd. Two minutes prior he would barely look at me.

The song ended and he stopped. "My cabin, top of the hill. Every day at 8." He sauntered back over to Crabbe and Pansy.

"Gave her a shot. If this doesn't work out you're dead." Draco spat at Crabbe.

I stood awkwardly in the center of the floor. My feet no longer worked on their own, or at all.

"Better get to work, baby." Pansy shouted at me. I looked at her, she shook her head with a shit eating grin on her face and followed Draco.

My feet suddenly had feeling in them again. I had no idea how this evening had even happened. Something got me out of bed tonight and something else tells me I shouldn't have.

I ran as quickly as I could past everyone in the room. Eventually making it out the door I found my breath. How was I going to get away with this? How was this even going to happen?

My feet carried me back to my cabin. All I wanted to do was hide under my covers from everything outside. Blaise, Draco, this dance I was now forced to learn.

The next morning I found an excuse to get away from my family and find Draco's cabin. It was fairly easy considering my parents would be doing the same thing every day and Hermione had found her own group yesterday.

I hiked up the hill behind the main building to Draco's cabin and stopped at his door. I lifted my hand to knock as I remembered why I was there. Nerves shook in my stomach. Getting out of this would be easy. All I would have to do is avoid Draco, Pansy and Crabbe for the remaining six days and keep my head down at the final dance.

That wasn't me though. Even though I had no say so in this ordeal at all, I felt like I had to fix this for them.

I said fuck it and knocked. Heavy footsteps drew closer to the door and it swung open.

Draco stepped to the side to let me in. He let the door close behind him.

"Where do we start?" I asked him as he fiddled with a music player sitting on the floor.

"Footwork. You have to get the fundamentals down and this dance relies heavily on it." He started in front of me and put his hands on my hips.

I took a deep breath in preparation for the rest of the day.

"Stop stepping on my feet, baby."

"Arms up, stay in your circle. This is my circle. Stay in yours."

"Good, again. Not like that."

My feet were sore by the end of the day. He wasn't too awful, I had thought the night before that he had something against me but I think it's just his personality.

The next day was the same as the first. Footwork. Don't step on me and stay in your circle. I was getting less and less critiques as we went on, though.

The third day was a little different. We started on the first steps of the routine. He was getting easier to handle day after day. He was still cold and irritable, but I saw him smile for the first time the third day.

I'd attempted the first spin about 10 times and stumbled every time, or missed his hand I was supposed to grab. Finally, he spun me and pulled me back to him, and my hand caught his.

Our faces were inches from each other. He was pretty. I hadn't really noticed before that day, he was very pretty. His eyes flicked down to my lips.

"Perfect." He startled me.

Me?

"We start on the jump tomorrow." He let me go.

Of course not.

The first three days had to be rushed so we could start on the jump as soon as possible. When I got to his cabin the fourth day I was running from the rain. He was leaning up against his door waiting for me.

"Let's go." He said when I reached him.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as I followed him down a path behind his cabin. "Go where, exactly?"

"You'll see."

He stopped at a large creek in the woods where a tree had fallen over crossing it. He offered his hand to me.

"No way. You're serious?" I took a step back.

"We have to work on balance, baby. I won't let you fall, I promise." He took my hand this time.

We stopped in the middle. He placed his hands tightly on my waste.

"Now, jump"

My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head.

"It's raining, Draco, I'm going to fall." I retaliated.

"You are not, baby. Trust me and trust yourself."

"Fine." I huffed. I jumped just enough to get my toes off of the tree.

"And, down." His hands didn't leave my waist like they normally would. "Again, try higher this time."

I took a deep breath and jumped harder. My feet were unbalanced when I did and I felt it. His arms wrapped around me as he caught me, trying not to fall over himself.

"Can we just go back to the cabin?" I shook with nerves in his arms.

"We'll go to the lake. Can't have you breaking your neck in the cabin either." He held my hands as we got off of the tree and headed down to the lake.

I don't think he realized he hadn't let go of one of them.

"Right, love. This will be easier. Don't worry about falling." He said absentmindedly as we entered the lake.

There was still a downpour as evening grew to night. We started out small. He could easily hold me, it was about my ability to balance myself.

"Now, you'll go above my head and hold." I nodded my head at him.

I jumped with all I had. My eyes were closed in anticipation of my face meeting the water again, but it didn't.

"Hold, baby." Draco said from under me.

And I did. My sides were killing me, but I held it until he tapped my thigh with his fingers. I let myself fall back in front of him and my head fall.

"I think I'm done for tonight. That's starting to hurt." I told him.

Hands. His hands were on my hips.

"Of course. We'll perfect it tomorrow and finish it the next. You're doing perfect." He said. I started to shiver from the rain and cold lake water.

"Oh, baby. I'm sorry. I should've known. I'll get you back, let's go." He said, but he wasn't moving.

"I don't really want to go back to my cabin." I managed to force out.

"You can't stay in the lake all night." He chuckled.

I looked at him. I couldn't believe how intoxicating he looked.

"I said I didn't want to go back to mine." I had no idea what had gotten into me.

His hands on my hips moved to my face. I had no idea what had gotten into him, either.

"Then stay with me." He whispered. I nodded slightly, impatiently.

His hand went to my neck and he pulled my head closer, kissing me.

My mind had completely left my body. This had to be a dream. I knew it wasn't when he lifted my legs up to wrap around his waist, deepening the kiss.

"Perfect." He said as his forehead pressed against mine. "I meant you." My heart stopped working at this point. "Let's get you to bed. My bed."

Nothing happened that night with Draco, other than being completely sure I was in love with him. I just didn't know if it was because I was tired at the time.

The last few days I had pushed it out of my mind. My nerves focused more on the dance than they did about my feelings for Draco. The final dance was here.

"Follow my lead, and if you forget anything just improvise from what you've learned." He held my hand from behind the curtain.

It lifted and the light hit me. I knew my parents were here and I would probably be killed after this, but I couldn't let Draco down.

The music started and so did we. I moved in sync with him, and did my best not to look stiff during my parts.

The jump was seconds away, and my heart had nearly bursted from nerves and from Draco's eyes on mine the whole time. I flicked my dress back and forth with my hands and ran to Draco who had his arms out waiting to catch me.

I flew over his head and held myself in place. The room erupted into cheers just as it did the first night when Pansy was in my place.

Our last few steps were perfect, and the lights went out. Draco grabbed my face and kissed me all over.

"Perfect, baby. Absolutely perfect. I'll have to replace you with Pansy." He joked.

My face fell.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of your folks and Blaise. Leave it to me."

"No, Draco. Pansy. Aren't you and Pansy?"

"No, baby. Of course not. That's for show. She has a guy. And I found my girl." He kissed me again. I kissed him back. His girl.

Hermione had been right on the way to Kellerman's. This was the best summer I'd ever had.

#draco malfoy #harry potter #harry potter imagines #hp #hp imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #collab

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the-original-b · 4 years

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Archangel: High Society

Format: Prose / Fiction, one-shot

Word Count: c. 8,400

Krueger and Khai embark on a rescue operation deep in enemy territory, where they come face to face with a dangerous foe.

Warning(s): blood, violence, brief nudity

Khai sat at the conference room desk buried in charts and reports, long after everyone else had left the office. She thought she would get better at it with time, but long after Simon’s passing her work as the Manhattan Branch’s controller hadn’t gotten any easier.

Somehow it seemed more difficult after the promotion was made formal just a few short weeks ago.

She leaned back in the old chair and sighed, resting her glasses on the stack of papers that never seemed to shrink. She shut her eyes and rubbed her eyelids with her thumb and first finger as she wondered how the Partners could ever think she was even remotely qualified to run the place.

The ringing phone was a welcome distraction. She straightened up and answered without putting her spectacles back on. “Elizabeth Khai’s office,” she answered. She still wasn’t used to saying that.

“Liz?” the man on the other end said. His age added a rasp to his voice. “Chuck Silvio. Congratulations again on your promotion.”

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Silvio.” She relaxed a little, leaning back in the chair again and crossing her legs. “It’s been a while, how are you these days?”

“Not bad, not bad. The Miami weather’s good for me.”

“I bet,” she said with a chuckle. In her mind’s eye she could see him leaning back in his chair at the office, mirroring her posture. She turned in her chair to watch the rain drops streak down the window overlooking Sixth Avenue. “Beats the hell out of the cold rain.”

“Oh, it gets plenty wet here too,” he commented, matching her laugh. “Trust me.”

“I’ll take your word for it… So, what can I do for you?”

“You remember my little shithead son, right?”

“CJ? Of course.” Khai reached out for her glasses and put them back on one-handed. “As I recall, Specialist Krueger and I helped him out of a mess with the Company last year.”

“And I can’t thank you two enough for that,” Silvio added. “Really… But those connections don’t wash away so easy. The Jackass is going to some kind of get-together in Williamsburg, Virginia,” he began. “A big gala on the water at the end of the week.”

“Williamsburg is Company territory,” Khai noted. “You think they’re trying him again?”

“Not a doubt in my mind,” he said, “and I need to borrow Mr. Krueger to get him out of another mess.”

“He’s cleaning up a snafu in Cape Cod,” Khai noted, consulting her desktop calendar partially obscured by a takeout container from Tillman’s in which sat a half-eaten steak sandwich and handful of fries. “He should be back tomorrow night, but I’m not certain as to what his schedule looks like afterward.”

“I talked to Isaac,” Silvio said. “He’ll be available.”

Khai offered a shrug as if he could see it. “Well, alright..! I’ll get him in the schedule and make the arrangements.”

“Perfect,” Silvio said as Khai keyed the password to her desktop computer. “One of my guys got his hands on a few tickets, we can have one overnighted to you.” She summoned Krueger’s calendar to enter his travel dates.

She paused before saving the entry and leaned back in her chair again. “Say, do you think you can send two tickets up here?”

“Thinking about attending a waterside gala, Miss Khai?” His smirk was audible.

“I did pick up this lovely gown the other day,” she jested. “I need an excuse to wear it… I can have Everett keep an eye on things while I’m away.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to cover for you while you’re out having some fun,” Silvio chuckled. “I’ll send a pair of tickets up to the Branch. Thanks again for this, Liz.”

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Silvio. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Khai hit the lever in the phone’s cradle to end the call with Silvio, then released it to dial his number.

He answered after a few rings. “Good evening, Miss Khai,” he said.

“Hello, there,” she charmed. “You feel like taking me someplace nice this weekend?”

~~~~

Krueger reviewed the fabric samples the tailor offered him, and after narrowing down his selection for the outer layer to a solid black and textured medium gray, revisited the options for the lining. “Do you do waistcoats as well?” he asked the tailor.

“Certainly,” he replied.

Krueger nodded. He looked over his shoulder at Khai, in the room with them with her gown folded over her arms. He picked a few fabric samples up off the table and held them out in front of him, lining them up with the portion of the gown he could see from where he stood. He shut one eye as he scrutinized each sample; each of them matched the shade of her gown almost perfectly. “What shoes will you be wearing?” he asked her.

“The black ankle strap round-toes,” she said. “With the red soles.”

Krueger knew them. That narrowed his decision down. “This one,” he said, handing it to the tailor.

“Excellent choice,” he noted. He jotted the selections down in his note pad. “What style did you want for them?”

“British.”

“And the fit?”

“Modern.”

“And that’s two buttons, yes? The same as before?”

“Two buttons, that’s right,” Krueger nodded. “I’ll need a shirt as well.”

“Of course,” the tailor said. “Give me a moment and I’ll return with the samples.” The tailor took his leave with his notes.

Shortly after he left, another person entered the room—a brown-skinned man in his early thirties with a ten day beard. “Sorry you guys,” he said. “Collision on the Belt Parkway took out the left lane.”

“No worries, Brandon. We haven’t left yet.”

Krueger arched a brow at their newcomer.

“Oh, right,” Khai noted, “you two haven’t formally met… Milo this is Brandon Desmoulins, my tech expert out of Brooklyn.”

“The one who decrypted Orham’s files?” Krueger said, offering the man a hand to shake. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“No, the honor is mine, Mr. Krueger.” Brandon shook Krueger’s hand, then reached into his jacket pocket to pull a pair of two-by-six inch slivers of card stock. Khai recognized them as the gala tickets. “They’re usually keyed to the individuals who purchased them, but our guys in the Southeast Region were able to wipe these two. Which means,” he continued as he retrieved his laptop from his backpack, “We got a pair of blank slates for you guys.” He opened the computer and took a seat at the table.

“Well,” Khai said, taking a spot beside Krueger as she looked over Brandon’s shoulder at the monitor, “I’ve never been somebody else before, so why not?”

“You can be the Queen of England if you like.”

“Sure,” Khai scoffed. “I’m the spitting image of her.”

“You know,” Krueger jested. “I think I see it. Turn your head a little…”

“Oh, like this..?” she added laughing to herself. “And you, Sebastian?”

“Not this time,” he noted. “The Company knows Sebastian Weber. They said my eyes gave me away in Miami, I’ll need a disguise as well as a new name.”

Brandon turned in his seat to look at him. “You look like a Michael to me.” He brought his hand to his lip as he considered naming him. “Michael Fff… Fuchs.”

Krueger shrugged. “That works.”

“Mike Fuchs it is,” Brandon declared. He loaded one of the tickets into a fist-sized portable printer and keyed in Krueger’s new alias. In moments, the device wrote a barcode and etched the name into the document’s face. “Hope you like it, cos it’s too late to change. As for the peepers, we should be able to get you contact lenses pretty easily.”

Krueger nodded. “The more common the color the better.”

“Can’t go wrong with brown ones… and you.” He turned over his other shoulder to look at Khai. “I’m thinking Samantha. Samantha…”

“Nguyen,” she suggested.

“Good as anything else, I guess.” He loaded Khai’s ticket into the printer and coded it to her new identity. When the printer was done he presented them their tickets. “There we go—Michael Fuchs and Samantha Nguyen. Just a pair of run-of-the-mill socialites and definitely not high ranking members of the Marlow Partners’ organization.”

Khai took the tickets and studied them before handing Krueger his. “Nice work as always.”

“For you two, nothing but the best.” He shut his laptop and returned it to his backpack. “There is one more thing—I keyed in Vizier Status to those tickets, it’ll let you carry a pistol on the premises. Probably not necessary, but if you guys are going into the lions’ den, I figured you’d prefer to be armed.”

“Good thinking,” Krueger nodded.

Khai checked the clock on the far wall. “Don’t know if we’ll have time to head to the armory today—”

“No need,” Krueger said. “I know exactly what I’ll take for this one—the Five-Seven. With hollow points.”

“Not the armor penetrators?”

“I’d like to avoid collateral damage,” he said. “Even there.”

Khai couldn’t disagree with his logic. “Fair enough. I’ll just have to swing by after hours and see what I’ll be able to conceal in this.”

The tailor returned to the room with another collection of fabrics. “Here we are,” he said. “Given what I understand about this gathering, I went ahead and narrowed down the usual selection.”

Krueger walked over to view what was offered. Immediately he was drawn to a textured sanguine red.

“Do you like that one?”

“I do,” Krueger admitted. “But that’s not what we’re here for today…” He redirected his glance to something more conservative and examined the samples. “Can you conceal the buttons?”

“I certainly can. What color do you want for them?”

“Black.”

Khai leaned against the table beside Brandon as she observed the two of them, her gown still folded over her arms. “So,” she said to him.

“So..?”

“So does he live up to your expectations?”

“Honestly?” Brandon returned with a whisper. “I thought he would be taller.”

~~~~~~

Krueger opened his door and stepped out of the limousine when the driver brought the vehicle to a stop. He offered Khai his hand and helped her out of the car as they walked up the red carpet to an elegant villa overlooking the James River, nestled in the heart of a luxurious resort and golf club. A black evening shawl rested on her shoulders beneath her hair and draped over her contours, drawing any onlookers’ eyes to her crimson long sleeve gown with a thigh-high slit up the right side. She traded her usual eyewear for contact lenses and colored her lips the same shade as the gown. Her shoes called attention to Krueger’s outfit—a black suit and tie over a crisp white shirt and crimson waistcoat with a subdued black print.

Together they approached the open front door of the venue, where they presented their invitations to the staffer there. He reviewed their tickets and asked if they were carrying; Krueger opened his jacket to expose the Five-Seven tucked in the holster under his left arm. The staffer cleared them for entry and directed them to the coat check a few yards into the foyer, where Khai deposited her shawl and looked up a grand stair case that split toward the top as it led to the second floor.

“No hassle so far,” she noted sotto voce.

“Don’t let your guard down,” Krueger whispered as they went deeper into the building and found their way to the main atrium. “We’re in the hornets’ nest now.”

Khai took a breath as she beheld the main atrium, an ornately decorated love letter to excess and decadence. Marble columns stretched from floor to ceiling in each of the room’s four corners, and a gargantuan crystal chandelier dangled from the center to illuminate the room. Bicolor marble tiles covered the entire floor space, and the walls were adorned with recreations of famous paintings watching over the tables and dance floor. Finally a huge pair of French doors opened up to a terrace overlooking the water and setting sun, where there were likely more food and drink stations to satisfy the patrons there.

“Remember,” he continued, “we’re here for Silvio.”

“Right,” she nodded. “I remember.” She scanned the room some more, noting the food stations along one wall ending in a carving table, and the well-appointed bar opposite them. “It’s just a shame we have to be here for work.”

“Well,” Krueger smirked, resting his hand on her hip to pull her closer, “maybe Michael Fuchs and Samantha Nguyen can return and spend a week on the resort grounds someday.”

“Don’t you go giving me ideas now…” She brushed her hand on the small of his back as she took a few steps deeper into the room. “We’ll cover more ground if we spit up to work the room.”

“I’ll start outside,” Krueger said, and they went their separate ways to look for CJ Silvio.

They met up at the inside bar after a futile forty minutes. Khai ordered a glass of pinot noir while Krueger ordered a gin martini. “Did you fare any better than me?” he asked her, leaning against the mahogany finish.

Khai shook her head after thanking the bartender for her wine and taking a sip. “His father said he would be here.”

“Is he usually late to gatherings like this?”

“I don’t think he’s ever been to a gathering like this,” she jested, turning around and leaning against the bar top to look at the room again. “Way too classy an audience for him—” her eyes widened and jaw gaped for a moment before springing around to turn her back to the room and mouthing “shit..!”

“What is it?”

“White tux,” she responded with an almost inaudible whisper. “Don’t look.”

Krueger discreetly scanned the room to try and spot the person or thing that so completely and immediately terrified her. “I think I see him,” he said, matching her tone. “Tall, gray, handsome fellow?”

“That’s Osiris. In the flesh.”

Krueger turned back to face Khai and accept his cocktail. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“Roland Preston,” she explained, maintaining her volume. “He controls Company operations across the entire Eastern Seaboard and as far west as Chicago. He’s every bad day Isaac and Charles ever had.” She paused to consider the implications of his presence. “If he’s here for the same reason we are…”

“Then we better find CJ first,” Krueger surmised.

Khai nodded. “Alright, new plan,” she said as she straightened herself up and took another sip of wine to collect herself. “We stick together.” She took Krueger’s hand and led him toward the French doors and the terrace beyond them. “We stay out of his sight, find someplace with good visibility to look for Silvio, then collect him and get out of here.”

“And if Osiris finds him before we do?”

Khai took a breath. “Then I hope you have more bullets than there are bodyguards in this place.”

The two of them stayed on the terrace overlooking the water for the remainder of cocktail hour, and when the time came for them to find their seats they quietly made their way to a table near the dance floor with a good view of the bar. As Krueger understood, they would have the best chance of spotting CJ Silvio from there.

About twenty minutes into the reception, his wager paid off. He spotted CJ Silvio, dressed in a neat black suit and tie, nearly running after a blonde woman in a short dress on his way to the bar. It was obvious to Krueger that this woman wanted nothing to do with him anymore, and it appeared Young Silvio was looking to redeem himself after some unseen slight. After a short while he gave up and turned to get the bartender’s attention.

“I think we should order a drink,” he said, subtly gesturing the bar.

Khai followed his nod to the person in question. “Good idea.”

She stood up shortly after him and followed Krueger toward their target, but they were intercepted by a tall, classically handsome green eyed man with gray swept-back hair and manicured mustache. “And here I thought I was well-dressed this evening, then you two come along and show me up so elegantly.” He addressed them with a rich, honeyed voice, wearing a white tuxedo jacket and dark slacks with a crisp black bowtie. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said, offering Khai his hand. “Roland Preston. This is my gala.”

Khai discreetly swallowed her terror and flashed him a warm smile. “I wondered whose party this was!” she extolled. “Samantha Nguyen,” she said, shaking his hand. “And this is my partner, Michael.”

Krueger followed her lead, keeping CJ in sight. “Michael Fuchs,” he introduced himself. “This is a lovely party,” he continued as he shook Osiris’s hand.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Fuchs,” he said. “So, tell me how it is I’ve never seen you here before, dressed like that.”

“Kind of a long story,” Khai said. “Mike, would you mind?” she said, gesturing the bar.

“Of course,” he said, making his way toward the indicated area. “You had the pinot noir, yes?”

“I did, thank you.” She redirected her attention to Osiris, guiding him away from CJ as she explained. “Michael and I run a small IT setup. We were stationed in Southern California until last December, but we found a better opportunity out here.”

“Is that so?” Osiris returned. “And how are you liking the East Coast so far?”

“Oh, we love it! It’s like we’ve lived here all our lives..!”

Krueger made his way to the bar as Khai distracted Osiris, and stationed himself adjacent to CJ as he ordered a pinot noir and gin martini, slipping the bartender a few bills. “No frozen margaritas here, unfortunately,” he said to him.

CJ looked over his shoulder at the other man. “Huh?”

“This isn’t a poolside party. You’ll have to order smarter if you want to blend into this crowd. You can’t go wrong with one of the classics. A martini, or an Old-Fashioned if that’s more your speed.”

CJ quickly shook his head, befuddled. “Do I know you, man?”

“You do.” He finally turned to face CJ. “Also not a great idea to chase women here. Especially not when you have a baby on the way.”

CJ shut his eyes tight and opened them again as he leaned in, squinting at Krueger as he placed where he’d seen him before. “Sebastian—?”

“Not tonight. Tonight I’m accompanying your boss while she and I do your father a favor.” He gestured to his right at Osiris and Khai as they conversed. “Before you make a fool of yourself and say something you’ll regret, yes that is her in red. And she’s stopping that man from finding out who you are, because if he did, you’ll be dead by dawn or worse.”

Speechless, CJ looked over his shoulder at Khai and Osiris, then back at Krueger.

CJ’s disbelief informed Krueger he was completely unaware of the depth of the trouble he was in. “We’re trying to help you,” Krueger continued, “so let us help you. Leave,” he ordered. “Get your coat, call a taxi, and get as far away from this city as you can as quickly as you can. And then call your father to apologize.”

CJ nodded sheepishly, then retreated from the main atrium back toward the entrance.

Krueger watched Silvio exit the room as he reclaimed his drinks from the bartender, making sure he thanked him.

“Mr. Fuchs,” Osiris got Krueger’s attention. “Samantha was just telling me you head security for your company.”

He turned to face Osiris, having to turn his gaze upward slightly to establish eye contact. “That’s right,” he said, handing Khai her beverage. “I used to be a consultant in the field, but she made me a better offer,” he said with a smirk. “She still lets me freelance every now and then.”

“It keeps him happy,” Khai jested. “He would get bored otherwise.”

“Boy do I understand that,” Osiris added, laughing. “Would you mind lending me your input for a moment? I’ve been looking for ways to tighten security and upgrade networks for a few of my operations, and I can benefit from an outside opinion.”

Krueger and Khai discreetly shot each other looks. “I wouldn’t want to impose,” he said.

“Please, it won’t take much time at all,” he charmed. “Then I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” Khai said.

“Excellent,” Osiris extolled. “If you’d follow me to my office upstairs,” he gestured the hallway before them. “You can take your drinks with you.”

“Lead the way,” Krueger said. He put himself between Khai and Osiris as they followed him out the main atrium and toward the front lobby.

“So what did you say your industry was, Mr. Preston?” Krueger asked.

“Logistics, primarily,” Osiris answered, leading Krueger and Khai up the stairs. “Transportation of goods, and occasionally providing security services for those transported goods… the yardstick to inter-state commerce.” He turned left at the split to lead them down a hallway, and Krueger kept a mental tally of the staff they passed. “But some people don’t see it that way,” he lamented. “They would see my logistics operation crumble, and have attacked me through less-than-legal means,” he explained as he turned right and led them into an elegant office space. A mahogany desk sat before a massive window, to their left was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, and to their right a coffee table and lounge area with a few cozy-looking couches. The carpet below their feet was a rich red. “So I’ll have to do the same, if I’m going to survive,” he concluded, turning to face them.

“Uh-huh… and these less-than-legal methods,” Khai put forth as Krueger went to rest his martini on the lounge table, “how do you presume we’ll be able to help you?” She turned to look over her shoulder as two more staffers closed the office doors behind them. Once again she closed the distance between Krueger and herself.

Osiris simply smirked and stepped aside, allowing them to see a shiny piece of gold-colored metal atop the mahogany desk. “Do either of you know what this is?”

They could both see it was a gun, a large hand cannon with a long, ported slide and barrel. Neither of them recognized the exact model.

Osiris picked the firearm up off the desk and held it in his hand. “This was a gift from some associates out west,” he explained. “It’s big, heavy, impossible to conceal, and poorly designed.” He reversed the gun in his hand to show them the lack of padding on the rear of the grip. “It shoots giant bullets, and has nothing to ease the recoil from those bullets, so it hurts every single time I shoot it. I don’t have the heart to tell the guys who gave this to me how much I hate it, but,” he continued as he loaded a five-round magazine into the hand cannon, “it makes a statement. Just know that every time I pull the trigger, I really want the guy or girl on the business end of this thing to understand that statement. So… to answer your question, Miss Khai,” he added as he pulled back the slide and released to chamber a round. “I think you’re opinion on what’s less than legal is well-qualified, as that is your area of expertise.”

Khai blinked and recoiled as her stomach sank when he called her by name. She backed toward the door almost subconsciously as Krueger stepped up between them to shield her.

Osiris’s lip curled into a sinister smirk as he stepped up to close the distance between them. “Yes,” he began. “I know who you are, Elizabeth Margaret Khai. Operations Controller for the Marlow Partners up north. I knew who you were the moment I laid eyes on you. Which would make you,” he directed his gaze—and cannon—to Krueger, “the specialist she hired to make sense of the organization again… Sebastian Weber? But we both know that’s not your real name. Neither is Michael Fuchs.”

“Congratulations,” Krueger commented, “you’re clairvoyant.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourselves,” he said, “you certainly would have fooled anybody else.” He took a few more steps toward them, and had them backed against the wall. “You know, you cost me a lot in Miami, Specialist—it took years to get three of my guys close to Silvio’s son… But they succeeded posthumously; he ended up here tonight after all. So while I can’t be too angry with you, holding onto any amount of anger is unhealthy. So…” He lowered the hand cannon to abdomen-level and fired, catching Krueger in the left ribs and dropping him to the floor almost instantly.

Khai stifled a scream and jumped away from them, back toward the lounge table as Osiris freed his hand. He held onto the cannon with his left as he rhythmically flexed his right and winced, groaning. She distanced herself further from him, heading toward the mahogany desk by the window as her eyes darted from Osiris in front of her to Krueger motionless on the floor. As Osiris looked back over his shoulder to face her she wished, prayed, Krueger would start moving again.

“Now there’s the matter of what punishment best suits you,” he dictated. “Maybe Young Silvio can give us some ideas. What do you think?”

“I think you’re a little late for his opinion,” Khai said, consciously slowing her speech just enough to hide her fear from him.

“Am I?” he queried. He took a conspicuous glance at the watch on his left wrist, and CJ Silvio was brought into the office by two of the staffers mere moments later, sporting a split lip and bleeding brow. Osiris dropped his hand and approached her again, carrying his cannon, and she recoiled almost immediately, but was stopped by the desk behind her. “Did you really think I would let any of you leave this place alive?”

Motion in Khai’s periphery gave her the cue she so desperately looked for earlier, giving her the boost in confidence she needed to act. “Lapse in judgement,” she said, shrugging. “Happens to the best of us.” She immediately threw her right knee into Osiris’s groin and dove to her left, hitting the floor and reaching for a subcompact Glock 26 she had holstered on the inside of her left thigh as Krueger—still on the floor—reached for his Five-Seven.

Krueger raised his handgun and fired six times in rapid succession, landing all his shots in Osiris’s back, while Khai struck each of the staffers in the room twice with well-placed shots from her handgun.

Osiris collapsed to his hands and knees, taking a labored breath as he turned to face Krueger, Khai, and CJ. He raised his hand cannon one more time, but lacked the strength to keep it at the ready; he dropped the gun to the floor and fell onto his side, coughing blood and grabbing at his chest.

Slowly, Krueger made it to his knees and holstered his weapon, then moved his hand to his side while he doubled over in pain. He propped himself up against the doorway while he tried to catch his breath.

When she was sure he wasn’t too badly hurt, Khai sat up to re-holster her handgun then stood to look down at Osiris. She crouched down to pick up his hand cannon and raised it one-handed to hold him in the sights. “The Partners send their regards,” she said. Then she squeezed the trigger, striking Osiris in the chest.

The recoil nearly wrenched the cannon from her grip. Shocked, she looked at the weapon in her hand in disbelief. She realized Osiris wasn’t lying about the weapon’s design flaws, but ultimately agreed with him about its ability to make a statement.

She rushed over to Krueger and knelt down in front of him, placing Osiris’s hand cannon on the floor to examine his wound. To her relief, she found he wasn’t bleeding. “Are you alright?”

Krueger nodded. “Armor saved my life,” he noted between shallow breaths.

This, as well as his apparent refusal to remove his right hand from his left side, worried Khai. She looked up at CJ, who was just getting back onto his feet after the violence that unfolded around him. “We have to get him out of here now,” she declared.

CJ agreed. “Say no more,” he said. “When they scooped me up they brought me back in through a side entrance. We can use it to slip away without them noticing.” He went to stand and wipe some blood from his brow.

“Do you remember where that exit is, by any chance?”

“End of the hall to the right.” CJ went toward the front door to pull a fire alarm mounted near it. “That should buy us some more time and cover.”

“Good thinking…” She turned back to address Krueger. “I’m going to help you up, Milo,” she said, taking his hand in hers and putting his arm around her shoulders. She propped him up onto his feet and stood up with him; when she was sure he could stand on his own, she retrieved her Glock from its holster once more and eyed CJ. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” CJ noted. He searched the two bodies on the floor next to him, and found a set of car keys.

Khai peered around the doorway into the hall, and popped back behind cover after spotting half a dozen armed men and women on their way up the stairs, likely to investigate the noise in Osiris’s office. “Damn it,” she hissed. “I hope you’re a good shot, CJ.”

“He won’t have to be,” Krueger said, retrieving his Five-Seven from inside his jacket and handing it to him. “Keep their heads down with this, get them to retreat to the lobby while we find our way down.”

CJ reluctantly took the handgun and took a breath to prepare himself. Then he popped out from behind the doorway and squeezed the trigger several times in the general direction of the event staff. Khai and Krueger took the opportunity to make a break further down the hallway, and CJ scrambled to follow them as he emptied the magazine down the hall.

They made it to the emergency exit stairwell at end of the hall, just where CJ said it would be, by the time the gun was dry. Khai turned around and un-holstered her Glock, bracing herself against the doorway, and took aim. She targeted not the guards but the light fixtures above them. She fired three times at the one between them and her, and succeeded in breaking the thin chain that held it to drop the chandelier and slow the guards.

In the chaos and panic among the other guests, they snuck out the side and around the back of the villa to a parking lot. CJ led them through, tapping the unlock button on the key fob he lifted to guide them to the car it belonged to. When he found the SUV, he hopped into the driver’s seat while Khai joined Krueger in the back to nurse his wound. CJ put the car into drive and took off, passing an oncoming ambulance on his way off the resort grounds.

“Easy,” Khai said from the back seat. “We don’t need to call any attention to ourselves.” She undid Krueger’s waistcoat and shirt, then carefully opened the body armor underneath. She turned the light on above them to get a better look, noting a small cut in his side where the bullet struck the armor as well as some bruising and swelling, confirming her fears. “See if you can find a pharmacy,” she said. “Or anywhere we can pick up a first aid kit. We need to treat his rib fracture.”

“Not to question you,” he said, “but is that really for the best? We should probably get out of Williamsburg, or at least as far away from the resort as possible.”

Krueger nodded. “I agree. Call your father or Isaac. See if they can arrange to get us out of here.” He winced as he straightened up in his seat. “Then we can worry about fixing me.”

Khai waited with Krueger in the parking lot of a CVS some twenty miles from the resort, and conferred with Charles Silvio over the phone while CJ went inside to pick up the first aid supplies she detailed for him. Upon his return with the equipment, Khai explained the situation for them all to hear.

“I spoke to your father,” she said, opening the rear door to step out and meet him outside the idling car. “He thinks the best thing for us right now is to lie low for the night while the dust settles, then he’ll send somebody in the morning for us.”

“So we’re spending the night here?” CJ confirmed. “Balls deep in hostile territory..?”

“I’m afraid so…”

“We’ll need lodging,” Krueger said from the car’s rear bench. “I spotted a discreet motel on the way here.”

“That’s perfect,” Khai said. “They shouldn’t ask questions.” She took the first aid supplies from CJ and stepped back into the car. “Take us to the motel,” she ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” CJ sighed.

Upon their arrival at the motel, CJ stopped the engine to let Khai out and the two of them helped Krueger onto his feet. He followed them from the car to the entrance, and together they made it to the reception area and got the host’s attention.

“Welcome and good evening,” he said. “How may I help you?”

“Hi,” Khai said, fighting to filter the adrenaline from her voice as she spoke to him. “We’ll need three rooms for one night. Next to each other, if that can be helped.”

“Of course,” the receptionist said. “Can I have a name and credit card on file for your stay?”

Krueger reached into his inside jacket pocket and retrieved a stack of neatly folded $100 bills. He placed it on the countertop and slid it toward the receptionist. “Ben Franklin,” he said.

The receptionist looked up at Krueger, then down at the cash, and then back up to Krueger. Nodding, he retrieved three sets of keys from under his desk. “Rooms 203, 204, and 205,” he said. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Franklin.”

“Danke schön.” Krueger took the keys and turned to lead his companions to their rooms. On the way handed CJ one of the keys and $200. “Go to the Goodwill down the road,” he ordered. “Get some cheap clothes that won’t draw attention and deliver them to my room.”

“Y-you bet.” CJ looked at Khai, and back at Krueger. “Um, what’s her size?”

“Take a guess.” Krueger slid the key into his door and entered. Khai followed him inside with the first aid supplies, leaving CJ to walk to the car and fetch their disguises.

Krueger rested his jacket on the back of a chair then went to the bathroom to wash his hands and splash water on his face one-handed. He worked on his shirt while Khai washed up in the bathroom behind him, peering over her shoulder every so often to check on him.

She fished her glasses out of her evening handbag and swapped her contact lenses for them just in time to watch Krueger roll his shoulder, painfully, to get out of his shirt and waistcoat and let them fall to the floor. She saw him struggle to remove the body armor and stepped in to intervene. “Let me,” she said. Gently, she peeled it off of his torso and stepped back to let him walk forward a little. Her eyes lingered on the numerous old battle wounds that were still visible on his bare back and chest.

Krueger tightened his one fist and gingerly held his side with his other hand, covering the growing purple blotch in his side as he slowly sat at the foot of the bed. He shut his eyes and exhaled a profanity before looking back at Khai. “Far from my first broken rib,” he said. “But I never did get used to the pain.”

She bent over to pick his shirt and waistcoat up off the floor and went to the chair his jacket rested over to place them with it. “Good,” she replied, stepping out of her stilettoes on her way to the first aid supplies in their bags by the door. “I’d be worried about you if you were so accident-prone.” She retrieved a bottle of isopropyl solution and a cotton ball from the first-aid kit, opened the bottle, and tilted it onto the cotton ball a few times to absorb enough antiseptic to disinfect the cut. Then, carefully, she applied the cotton ball to the shallow cut in his side. “This doesn’t get any more fun each time,” she added playfully.

“It’s a lot less fun to endure,” he returned. “Believe me.”

“I’ll take your word for it…” She retrieved a fresh cotton ball from the kit and gingerly dabbed the wound to dry it, conscientious of what was beneath the tender skin. Then she reached into the bag for a cold compress. “You know what comes next, right?”

Krueger nodded. “I’m ready for it.”

“I’m sorry in advance,” she said. Then she gently pressed the ice pack to his side, applying just enough pressure to hold it in place.

Krueger winced a little, but didn’t protest much otherwise. “Don’t be. I’m just happy to have you here fixing me. I could have been doing this alone.”

She paused a little at his remark, realizing how different things might have gone tonight if she weren’t there. She considered how far from fine it all went, and felt responsible. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Silvio,” he said.

He was probably right, but she couldn’t ignore other possibilities. “Hold that in place,” she said, then stood up to approach the door, reaching for her Glock resting on the inside of her thigh as she got closer to the peephole. When she confirmed Krueger’s assertion, she holstered the handgun and leaned against the wall to let CJ into the room, carrying bags from the Goodwill store, CVS and a fast food eatery.

“Disguises in here,” he said, laying the Goodwill bag down. “There was also change enough for some overnight stuff—you know toothbrushes, toothpaste, the like. And finally some cheeseburgers, since none of us ate dinner at the resort party... you guys don’t have any dietary restrictions, right?”

Khai shook her head.

Krueger shrugged. “It’s my cheat day.”

“Sure,” he continued, not sure whether he was joking. “Cheat day... One for you, Miss Khai,” he said, handing her one canary-yellow wrapper. “One for, well I would have said Sebastian, but—”

“Krueger.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Milo Krueger.”

Khai nodded, mid-chew. “I can confirm.”

“Right. One for Mr. Krueger…” He reached across Khai to hand him a cheeseburger. “And mine is in the bag… I split the clothes up to make it easier for everyone. Krueger and I are about the same size, so he was wasn’t a problem. For you, I got the smallest things I could find.”

Khai chuckled. “Thanks for trying to flatter me, but it’s for a day. I’m sure I’d be able to manage if you got my size wrong.”

“Well, I guess that’s true.” CJ stood up, taking his bags with him towards the door. “Is there anything else you guys need?”

“I’ll head back after I finish up here. Thank you, CJ.”

“You bet. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.” Then CJ Silvio turned and exited the room to return to his quarters for the night.

Khai waited a few moments after CJ left, then stood up from her spot to deposit her cheeseburger wrapper in the bathroom trash bin. She quickly washed and dried her hands then reached up her back to undo her gown, pulling the zipper all the way down on her own and paring it off her slender frame, leaving only a black strapless bra and panties to cover herself. She folded the gown over itself as neatly as she could and crossed the room to place it on the chair with Krueger’s clothes, then removed her garter holster and handgun to rest them there as well. “No way I’m letting you sleep alone tonight,” she said returning to the clothing bags CJ left behind and finding hers. She threw a t-shirt on and went back to the bathroom to grab a few hand towels, then returned to Krueger’s side to take the ice pack away. “You should eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Krueger said.

“I know. But your body will need the nutrients if you want to start healing.”

If Krueger protested, he didn’t show it. He laid the cheeseburger wrapper in his lap to free its contents, then took hold of and bit into it, chewing slowly.

Khai placed the hand towels against his side and had Krueger hold them there while she went to the first-aid kit. She peeled a length of medical tape from the roll and fastened it to Krueger’s sternum, crossing the soft towels and sticking the other end to his back to hold them in place. “You know, you scared the crap out of me tonight,” she admitted.

Krueger swallowed. “How so?”

“When Osiris shot you, you… just fell.” She repeated her actions with another length of tape. “And when you didn’t get up, I thought...” She paused for a bit with a third length of tape to stop her voice from wobbling. “I thought I’d lost you.” She retrieved a pressure bandage and unraveled it, starting to wrap it around his core.

Krueger chewed some more as he put his thoughts together, then swallowed. By now he knew her well enough to know she would be blaming herself for what happened somehow. “It’s not your fault, Liz,” he confided.

“I didn’t have to come with you, but I did. You heard Osiris, he spotted me first.” She secured the bandage in place with the included fasteners and looked up to make eye contact with him, her hand falling into his lap. “If I weren’t there he would never have found us, and you wouldn’t have come that close to dying.” She shut her eyes and shook her head, cursing herself.

“You don’t know that, Liz,” Krueger said. He placed the rest of the cheeseburger into its wrapper to lay his hand on hers. “He could have spotted me anyway, or gotten to Silvio before I could if you hadn’t been there to distract him. I wouldn’t have even known who he was if not for you.” He moved his hand to her cheek and she looked back up at him. “It’s impossible to tell what could have happened if things were different,” he continued. “You can’t blame yourself for something you couldn’t have foreseen. Nobody can predict everything, what’s important is that we all made it out alive. People like us aren’t always so lucky,” he finally said. “I know this.”

Khai took his words to heart and exhaled to calm herself again. Then she stood up, took his face in her hands and placed two kisses square on his mouth. “Don’t you dare get killed out there, Milo Krueger,” she appealed.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

~~~~

Khai kept his promise to him, spending the night by his side and treating his wound as needed. They finally drifted off to sleep after several hours, and when they awoke the next morning Khai took a phone call from Charles Silvio letting her know their transport would be there within sixty minutes.

Khai dressed herself in the pullover hoodie and jeans CJ picked out for her and gathered the rest of her belongings. “Shame about Samantha and Michael,” she jested. “It doesn’t look like they’ll be back to that resort any time soon.”

“Looks that way,” Krueger said, easing a zip-up hoodie over his left shoulder to keep the pressure off his healing ribs. “That’s why I picked up a souvenir.” He walked over to where his suit was folded and reached for the holster, revealing Osiris’s gold-plated hand cannon. “It seemed a shame to leave it behind.” He held it out for her to take.

She picked it up and held it with both hands, running her left thumb over the barrel ports and her right over the slide release. The visible engraved text read AMT AUTOMAG V 50 A.E. Irwindale, CA. “I hate shooting it,” she said with a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “But it makes a hell of a statement.”

“And what better statement to make than owning Osiris’s gun?”

“None better,” she said. She released the magazine and cleared the chamber before placing the gun in her hoodie’s kangaroo pocket, then reached one hand up to caress his cheek and give him a long, appreciative kiss. “Suppose I’d better go maintain the illusion,” she lamented after breaking contact. She returned to the bag that held her gown and shoes from the previous evening, picked it up, and stepped out of Krueger’s room.

“Ja,” he said. “Zurück an die arbeit.” He went back to his suit jacket to fish his belongings out of the jacket and place them into his cargo pants pockets.

~~~~

Khai woke CJ and had him get dressed to meet her and Krueger for breakfast, which they shared mostly in silence. And as promised, Charles Silvio’s driver arrived at the motel within the hour to pick them up and take them back to New York. He dropped Krueger and Khai off at his home in Rego Park for her to collect her car, and took CJ home to his apartment in Astoria.

Khai debriefed Isaac Hayden upon her return home. “Krueger can be up and working in as little as fourteen days,” she concluded, “but in a limited capacity. He should be back to full strength within six weeks.”

“I see,” Hayden said over the phone.

“Any updates from the Company?”

“My sources say Osiris was rushed to a hospital nearby. They say he’s comatose, and his prognosis isn’t good, but they weren’t able to get any other details regarding him. He ran the operation closer to the vest than we suspected, however. His generals are scrambling to keep his network at full functionality, and it’s already starting to splinter. We can expect them to back away from us on fronts across the entire Eastern Seaboard while they pull themselves together.”

“The way I see it sir, there’s no better time to push them out of the region than now.”

“You may be right,” he said. “But in so doing we may end up uniting them against us, and the advantage we’ve gained with Osiris’s removal from the field will be gone. I’ll coordinate with Charles and Dana, we’ll apply just enough pressure to keep them off-balance, and let them destroy themselves.”

“Understood, sir.” She poured fresh coffee from the stovetop pot into a mug and took it with her to her living room, setting down on the couch she got from Amelia’s barely a week ago.

“Charles asked me to thank you and Mr. Krueger again for your help with his son, and advised we keep him on a short leash.”

Khai had an idea about that. “What if we have CJ help me out at the branch? Be my assistant, the way I was to William and Simon.”

“Do you feel he’s up to the task?”

“I do. After what the three of us went through down there, I think he’s matured enough to handle the additional responsibilities. And if it doesn’t work, I’m sure his father can find something for him in Miami.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“On that we agree,” he added, almost chuckling. “I’ll have him report to the branch Monday morning for his new assignment. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Miss Khai.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hayden,” she said. “Good night.” She ended the call and put the phone down next to her, savoring her coffee as she admired Osiris’s empty AutoMag resting on the table in front of her. She picked the phone back up and dialed another number.

An older woman answered this time. “Hello? This is Gina.”

Khai leaned back into the couch. “Hey mom.”

“Liz!” she extolled. “It’s so good to hear from you again.”

“I know, it’s been a while. Sorry it took me so long to call back I’ve just been so busy at the branch lately.”

“I bet you have been, Miss Branch Controller..! Your father and I can’t tell you how proud we are of you. Running an operation at your age? That’s unheard of.”

“I did have help,” Khai said, trying to be modest. “And a great set of teachers, so you and dad can take thirty percent of the credit.”

“Is that all you’re willing to give us?” she jested.

“Okay,” Khai conceded, laughing. “Forty, but that’s as high as I’ll go..!”

“I’ll take it,” Gina laughed. “So tell me, what else is new with you?”

“Well,” she said, sinking further into the couch and letting it cradle her. “I just hired an assistant—you know Charles Silvio’s son?”

“Of course.”

“Yeah he’ll be helping me out with all the minutiae, and clear my schedule a little.” She paused briefly before continuing. “Also I met somebody.”

“Did you now?”

“I did.”

“Well, don’t leave me hanging, how’d you two meet?”

“He did some work for the branch a few months ago,” Khai began. “Isaac was so impressed he offered him a permanent position, so he’s with us full-time now. He’s a real sweetheart, too… he treats me well, spoils me… you and dad would love him.”

___(Masterlist)

#fiction #original work #original content #original fiction #prose #creative writing #drama #thriller

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