Undercovers Detective

Alexia

The gel felt cold when she squeezed it on my belly. I watched intently at the flickering monitor as she moved the scanner around my abdomen, searching. When the flickering screen stabilized, I viewed what appeared to be undefinable images of my innards. She continued shifting it around, pressing down with increased firmness. Some movement appeared but I couldn't discern what I was looking at.

"Ms. Hunter, if you look in the center of the monitor you can see the head—and that is the leg wiggling. Would you like to hear the heart beat?"

"Can I? Please!" I was excited.

Never in a thousand years would I have thought I'd be looking at an image of my unborn fetus.

The doctor turned on the fetal heart monitor and I could hear the rapid heartbeat. She seemed to have a concerned look on her face as she moved the scanner to another location.

"What's the matter?" I asked anxiously. "Is there something wrong?"

She smiled and said, "Nothing is wrong. In fact, I have double the good news for you. If you'll look in the lower section of the screen... that's another fetus. You're pregnant with twins."

"No fu—frigging way!"

I was numb, trying to grasp my situation. If I felt I wasn't ready for marriage and motherhood, I'd better get over those apprehensions quickly. A whole range of emotions flooded through me all at once.

She handed me a pregnancy basket that included several bottles of creams lotions and sample vitamins. Then, she commenced to give me her well rehearsed lecture about what not to eat or drink or do. She finished by printing a few pictures from the monitor screen. I took a couple of my own with my phone and sent them to Frank with no explanation.

A couple minutes later I received a text:

What's this?

I typed a short reply:

Your kids.

Immediately my phone rang.

"Hi babes," I answered.

"What the hell do you mean by my kids?"

"Well...I just found out I'm having twins."

Long pause.

"Holy crap!" he finally said. "Are we really having twins?"

"Technically, not we... me. Your part was the fun stuff, my part is just beginning."

Frank and I talked a few more minutes, but I had to cut the conversation short. I was meeting my parents for lunch and I needed to get dressed. As I dropped the gown to change back into my street clothes, I looked in the mirror. My profile definitely showed I was starting to form a baby bump. I looked at my watch and realized I needed to hurry because my dad had little tolerance for tardiness.

-oOo-

The three-story parking garage was packed with lunch patrons and I was forced to park at the far end. After I finally found a space, I sprinted down the stairway toward the entrance. Fortunately, I made it with a minute to spare. The place was crowded, but I knew my dad would have reservations. As the hostess escorted me to their table, I clutched my bag that contained the pictures my gynecologist had printed of their future grandchildren. I couldn't wait to see their reaction to my news. However, when I approached their table, I knew something was wrong. Neither one of them said anything as I sat. Dad didn't look at me and Mom's eyes were red and swollen.

I decided not to share my news. Instead I asked, "What's the matter? Why the glum faces?"

Without uttering a word, my father pushed a Manila envelope across the table.

What could this be? I wondered.

I opened the flap and pulled out a stack of eight by ten photos. After glancing at them briefly, I quickly shoved them back in the envelope. I was mortified. They were nude photos of me pole dancing at the club. My mother started to cry.

"Th-this..." I stammered. "Let me explain. Dad—"

"Don't ever call me Dad again!" His furious eyes pierced through mine. "I no longer have a daughter. You're just some prostitute that happens to have my last name. How could you do this to your mother?"

"But Dad, it's not what it looks like!"

"What possible explanation could you have?"

"There is an explanation, but..." I sighed in frustration. "I just can't discuss it right now. How did—"

"I find out?" He interrupted. "One of my clients told me. One of my biggest fucking clients, Alexia! Do you have any idea of what that did to me—to us? You're not just a whore but you're also a damn liar! You told us you were a police detective. For God's sake, you graduated Summa-Cum-Laude in criminal law from one of the most prestigious colleges in the nation! And who the hell is that Frank character? Is he your pimp? You certainly fooled us."

I wanted so badly to tell him the truth, but I couldn't jeopardize one of the biggest international criminal investigations in history. All I could do was sit there silently, absorbing the verbal abuse and public humiliation. After my dad finished his tirade, he got up and pulled my weeping mother to her feet. I thought my humiliation was finally coming to an end. I was wrong.

He turned back and loudly shouted, "WHORE!"

Everyone in the restaurant had their eyes on me. I felt two inches tall. I hated this fucking job and cursed the day I became a cop.

Janine

The mall was about half full when I pulled into our meeting place; it was near a sign pole at the far end the lot.

Paulson isn't here yet, I thought.

I always believed the Brits were obsessed with promptness, so where the hell was he?

My dealings with British agents in the past were with mixed results. Unlike the James Bond stereotype, my opinion was that they were more like accountants than secret agents. However, if anyone was going to change my mind, it was Lieutenant Commander Greg Paulson. Like every other female at the meeting, his chiseled good looks caught my attention.

Suddenly, there was a tap on my window. I lowered it and said, "Where the hell have you been?"

"I've been here an hour," said Paulson, grinning at me. "I waited to see if you were followed. Take this." He passed me a shopping bag that contained a small fire extinguisher and a gift-wrapped box.

"This is it? It looks so small."

"Trust me. This gas is potent. It's disguised as an emergency fire extinguisher, so you'll have little trouble getting it in. Access to the central ventilation system is just off the kitchen area. The canister will be hidden in plain sight."

"How does it work?"

"All you have to do is set it in front of the intake ventilator, pull the pin and open the valve. The gas will be released throughout the whole mansion within seconds. No one will remain conscious after their first whiff—except those inoculated with the antidote, of course. You will find the antidote in the bottom of the bag. There's enough here for the whole operational team."

"If this stuff ever gets out to the general public, date rape will be at a whole new level." I frowned at the possibilities.

"Yes, very true." Paulson nodded. "Don't forget bank robberies and a whole slew of other crimes, which is precisely why this is restricted to top secret assignments. I know your country is going to try and reverse engineer this, but don't bother. Some of the best chemists in the world have tried and failed."

"I believe you. That's above my pay grade, anyway. I assume you'll be at the briefing Saturday?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." He simpered.

"Well then..." I awkwardly paused. "I guess I'll talk to you later...maybe. By the way, Double-O-seven, tell 'Q' thanks on my behalf. You don't happen to have any of those exploding pens, do you?"

He laughed as I started my car and rolled up the window.

"Ta-ta!" He smiled.

"Ta-ta? Really?"

Frank

I was on top of the world. In a relatively short time my life would be drastically changed. I was going to be a new husband and father.

A father! I liked the sound of that.

Until now, my life was punctuated with nothing but hardship and loneliness. I couldn't wait to see Alex, the love of my life.

Nothing was going to bring down my good mood, even though today was another tough one with five new gang murders to investigate. All of them were apparently connected with the drug wars in Los Angeles.

Does anyone really care when gangbangers go down fighting each other?

We always go through the motions, but the effort is just not there. The truth is, no matter what we do, crime and murder are on an endless conveyor belt in the city of angels.

When I was a young rookie, law enforcement was more than a job, it was my life mission. After dealing with the dregs of humanity on a daily basis, it didn't take long before I became disenchanted with mankind in general. Twenty-five years later, my fervor was somewhat renewed by this operation. If successful, this could save the lives of countless innocent victims and bring about noticeable change.

Having Alex in my life had profoundly impacted me. This amazing woman, soon to be my wife, had inspired me and reshaped my destiny in countless ways. As I slid my keycard in the lock, I couldn't wait to see her.

My upbeat mood was instantly changed when I stepped in the apartment. Alex was in her robe, eyes swollen and mascara running down her cheeks. She rushed over and grasped me like I was her lifeline, almost knocking me over.

"What's the matter?" I asked, regaining my balance. "You look terrible."

At that invitation, she started to pour out her story about what happened during lunch with her parents. She spoke in broken sobs. This was one of those moments where all I could do was sympathize, hold her, and listen. I was proud of of her for not exposing our mission, and I hoped after this assignment was over, cooler heads would prevail.

"Oh, Frank... my dad hates me and he's blaming you!" She wiped her tears. "He actually thinks I'm a prostitute and that you're my pimp!"

"Sweetheart, if I was kept in the dark like him, I'd probably come to the same conclusion. This will end soon, and I pray we can repair the damage together. Can you show me the photos?"

She walked over to the credenza, took an envelope from beneath her purse, and handed it to me. I opened it and saw my fiancé in high definition, naked as the day she was born. The pictures were a progression of her stripping from her cheerleader costume, till she was almost completely nude in nothing but heels, stockings, and garter belt. I couldn't imagine what must have been going on in her parents' minds after viewing these photos.

"Damn," I said. "I can see why your folks were so shocked."

The way she was smiling in the pictures gave the impression that she was enjoying her job.

"These are high-resolution photos," I added, switching to detective mode. "Not cell phone snaps. From the depth of focus, these were taken with a quality SLR."

"What difference does that make?" Alex sobbed.

"Well, since no cameras are allowed in the Slice, I think these must be the official stock photos. It's possible that your father's client might have a business connection with Viktor and the club."

She cursed out loud.

"This could put your cover into serious jeopardy," I said.

"Frank, tell me things will be all right. I'm so scared I'll lose my family."

"From this point on we need to be extra careful. You and I have each other, and that's all we can really count on. As far as your parents are concerned, if they love you a fraction of what I think they do, they'll come around after we finally share the truth with them."

"I truly hope so," she said in tears.

"My love." I cupped her face. "In light of this, I have something I need to suggest. I just don't know if this is the right time... but I have to ask."

"Tell me."

"Okay," I sighed. "Here goes... I don't believe we can wait for your mom to plan our wedding after what happened today. I suggest we go by the courthouse tomorrow, get our wedding license, and say our vows before a judge. Janine and Tom can be our witnesses."

"Wow..." She folded her arms in her chest. "You're definitely right about the timing. How can you even think about that after what I just told you?"

"Look, I know, but if something should happen to me, I don't want our babies born as bastards. Plus, as my wife you'd get my pension and our kids would get college assistance under the fallen hero's act."

"Frank! Don't talk like that. Nothing is going to happen to you."

"Sweetheart, I'm way too pragmatic not to prepare for the worst. So how about it? Will you marry me tomorrow? It's just a formality, anyway. In my mind you're already my wife and life partner."

Alex paused, seemingly ruminating over my proposal.

"I need more time to think about it." She smiled wistfully.

"Go ahead, think it over. Just don't take too long."

A few seconds later, she smiled and said, "Okay. I thought about it. I'll marry you—but only because you knocked me up and... you're the best damn pimp a girl could ever ask for."

We both laughed.

The rest of that evening we talked about our future. It didn't surprise me when she said that after this assignment was over she would quit the force and go to law school. I agreed with her and said that I wanted her to meet my mother who was currently residing at Sunny-dale retirement community. My mother had pretty much given up on ever becoming a grandmother. With two babies on the way, I knew that Alex was going to need the assistance, which also meant it was imperative to repair things with her parents.

Our conversation soon drifted towards the pending raid. I told her that the Saturday briefing would be our last chance to iron out the details. It was no small feat, considering we needed to coordinate the operation between three countries and multiple agencies.

My greatest fear was the politics involved. I had a sinking feeling that someone would try to take a greater amount of credit, even to the point of undermining the other participants position. The British special forces were already lobbying for a larger part. As senior officer, that responsibility fell on me now that Greer was incapacitated. I needed to get competing agencies to work harmoniously. If I could pull that off, I might be given sainthood.

-oOo-

Later that evening, I heard the entrance door lock click. Janine came in carrying her shoes, tossing them randomly by the entrance. She looked exhausted and didn't seem like she wanted to talk to anyone. Without uttering a word, she walked past us to the kitchenette and poured at least three fingers of Jack Daniel's. After she took a big gulp, she glared at Alex, but still said nothing.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Whatever had happened between them, I had no clue.

Finally, in an effort to lighten the mood, Alex said, "I'm having twins."

"I don't give a damn if you're having a fucking litter!" Janine scathingly replied. "You're going to screw up this whole operation. Grow the hell up! I've given over three years of my life to this assignment and you'd never believe the disgusting things I've done for the sake of justice. If you don't get your head out of your ass, your selfish behavior is going to bring it all down!" Her dagger stare put the explanation mark on it.

"How am I doing that?" Alex asked defensively.

"Where the hell were you today? You were supposed to sing and dance tonight. The band even rehearsed your song. Viktor was asking where you were. Inna was so upset, she took it out on everyone. You know what a bitch she can be! All I could do was tell her you were very sick."

"I'm sorry. I...I was at..."

"Honestly, I could care less where you were. We are at the finish line, Alex. If you keep this shit up you're going to raise suspicion. This whole operation depends on you and me at this party. When the raid happens, it'll be just us on the inside. Do you think I can possibly handle this all by myself?"

"I'm so sorry, Janine... I wasn't thinking. I've been preoccupied. I had a really bad day."

"I don't give a shit!"

"I'll do whatever's necessary. I promise. Tell me what you need me to do."

"I need you to stop making excuses. I need you to go out there tomorrow and be convincing. Sing your heart out like a bird and shake your ass like a bitch in heat. You need to make sure they want you at the mansion."

"I can do that."

"Security is going to be on high alert. They'll be scrutinizing everyone and everything. Frank,"—she shot me glance—"you're going to have to lighten up about Alex. She's not your fiancé, she's an agent with a job to do."

"Of course," I replied. "You're right. We'll do our part." I assured her.

"I received the knockout gas from Paulson today," Janine added. "We only have about ten to fifteen minutes from the time the gas is deployed to secure the scene."

The tension lessened as we relaxed enough to treat each other with civility. After we discussed the assignment further, Alex excused herself and went to get ready for bed.

As soon as I was alone with Janine, I said to her privately, "I looked up the name Janine Voltaire, and some bullshit cover story comes up. I don't think I've ever known your real name or title, have I? In fact, I know nothing about you Your personnel file says 'classified.' Evidently, you're an enigma. A ghost. So, before you get pissed at me for checking on you, let me remind you that it's my job to check."

"Frank." She smiled. "I suspected you would look as soon as you became department chief. I expected nothing less. You know all you need to about me. I'm sorry I can't reveal more."

"I accept that. In my defense, I checked on everyone, which leads me to my next question: the story you told us about you being an agent for the FBI and losing your sister... all fiction?"

"Some is, some isn't." She grinned and added, "You know how it goes, if I told you the truth, I'd have to kill you." Janine giggled.

"Very funny... but somehow, I believe you," I said with a straight face.

Alexia

Sleep seemed impossible as I lay restlessly listening to Frank's heavy breathing. My mind was as crowded as the freeway at rush hour. My life had changed so much in the last few months. Not that long ago, I was a naïve virgin, college graduate with a freshly printed diploma and an unrealistic vision of the future.

My parents had my life plotted out in detail. Without even consulting me, they'd sent in the paper work registering me for Stanford Law School. I had felt trapped and it seemed like I had no say in my own future. In fact, I couldn't remember a solitary time I had made a life changing decision on my own.

My father was a force of nature in our family. I was a grown woman but felt like a six-year-old around him. All that changed when I went to the job-fair sponsored by my college. I remember this hot looking man in uniform, sitting at a booth representing the Los Angeles police force. In all honestly, I had no interest in police work, but I had a keen interest in the square jawed hunk in blue with a gleaming white smile and shiny badge. I'd sat down to converse with him but had no intentions other than flirting.

At first, I'd nervously panned through the opportunity brochures he'd pushed at me, pretending to read them. I couldn't recall a single thing he'd said in his rehearsed speech, but I did remember those sexy steel blue piercing eyes.

The next thing I knew, I was filling out a job application questionnaire. I had no intention of becoming a cop, but the long process of filling out the paperwork gave us more time together. My observation skills were certainly not developed at that point because I hadn't even noticed his wedding ring until he mentioned his wife. I'd felt like an idiot. I remembered walking away, embarrassed by my overtly pathetic attempt to seduce this poor soul.

I had completely forgotten about that encounter, until they called our home phone a few weeks later. My father had answered and that's when the preverbal shit hit the fan. Words were launched like missiles and our family room became a battlefield. That protracted argument ended with me defiantly calling them back and accepting their offer for the police academy.