Ingrams And Assoc 2 Retreat Ch 02

Two days later, April found herself on a United flight to San Francisco, to pick up a flight to Fiji later that day, accompanied by Simon Miles, and their two contractors, Mikey and Ramon. The flights were uneventful, and she did her best to relax and prepare herself for the upcoming ordeal.

When they arrived at Shizuoka airport, after dealing with passport control and gathering their luggage, Simon and his colleagues hugged April, wished her luck, and left for their hotel as soon as they could, so as not to be seen with her. April wandered the airport, looking for the pickup she was told to wait for.

Her cover was that of Tara Nesbit. She'd spent almost an entire afternoon concocting and rejecting back stories, not having a clue to what degree they'd need to be good for – she had no idea how much they'd be tested, so to be safe, she'd generated an almost generic one that was actually based of someone else. So if it was tested, it would hold up, even though she was actually impersonating a real person.

Eventually after wandering for twenty minutes, she discovered a little wizened Indian, dressed in colorful clothes, holding up a piece of paper with her cover name on it, misspelled. He smiled at her when she approached him, displaying a mouth full of cracked, brown or just missing teeth.

"You come," said the little man, gesturing, "boat waiting."

April noticed he didn't bother to offer to take her luggage, but since she only had a roll-on and a backpack, she wasn't over burdened.

They went out side, and April was blasted by hot air. Dermot had been right; it

was

hot out there. She was extremely pleased she'd thought ahead and brought shorts, a floppy hat and a T-shirt with her, and had changed in the airplane, prior to touching down.

They got into an old jalopy sort of car. Not quite the 1950's style you see in Cuba, but more a beat up 1970's estate car. All the rear windows were missing and the seats were covered in brightly colored blankets.

"You come, you come. We go long way," said the little man, obviously impatient to go.

They drove across the island. April noticed how the north side was all long burnt grass, and yet when they drove around the volcano, on the south side, it suddenly because more lush and verdant. April had done her homework – she knew this was to do with the winds on the North side, which took the moisture out of everything. In the lee of the Volcano, the winds calmed and didn't suck the water out of everything.

When they went past the lower reaches of the volcano, she saw several small cave like entrances. Again, the research paid off – she knew what they were. Several of the small caves were places where the populace took shelter when Tsunami's hit the shores, which had happened more than a few times. Those caves had saved many lives, over the years.

Then they were on the other side of the island, where more of the population lived, and where the island's resorts were. Eventually they pulled up short of a small jetty, where two of the larger models of Zodiac were tied up, bobbing up and down slowly. Both had overhangs attached, to shield from the sun, and she couldn't help noticing how heavy the construction of those overhangs were.

On one boat there was two women lounging, both drinking a diet coke. On the other, several boxes, including some freezer boxes, were stacked up. Obviously they were on a supply run at the same time as transporting passengers.

April climbed out of the car and went round the back to get her bags, only to find the little man had got there first and had rushed off with her roll on bag. 'Oh sure, when he's in front of the boss, he's all please and carry,' she thought. She just shrugged, adjusted the backpack on her shoulder and walked down to the boats on the jetty.

"Miss Nesbit?" inquired a big tan man, who was holding a clipboard. He smiled at her, and she looked him up and down. A big man, at least six foot two, he was well muscled, had brown hair that looked like it had frosting in it, an easy smile and he moved gracefully.

"Yes, that's me. And you are...?" April smiled back in that anxious way that people do when they are alone and other people appear to know them.

"I'm Martin Steele. I'm the island director. You are right on time. The agency sent us your travel details."

He reached out to offer April his hand so she could step over the large cylinders that made up the side of the boat. As she did so, the wizened old man dumped her roll on into the other end of the boat.

"Thank you, Joe," said Steele, without taking his gaze off April as she clambered over the side. She was glad again for the shorts; getting into a zodiac in a skirt would mean showing the entire world her panties.

Once inside, she found some shade to sit in, opposite the two women already in the boat, who were sizing her up in a very obvious fashion.

"Hi. I'm Tara. Hot enough here for you?" she asked, with a smile, taking off her hat and fanning herself with it. [Who is "she"? Who is saying this line? Please describe Tara or take her out.]

The two girls exchanged a look that April caught. They knew each other then. Interesting, but not that surprising.

"I'm Astrid," said one, and the other immediately piped up with, "and I'm Sam."

There was a familiarity of statement, which indicated to April that Astrid and Sam knew each other well. The ability to finish off someone else's statement and not have them mad at you indicated a long-term familiarity and acceptance. These two were old friends, obviously.

April leaned back against the Zodiac pressure cylinder that made up the side of the boat and took in these two. She knew who they were; she'd seen their personnel files. Astrid Johnston and Samantha Pole – they were the waitresses, ostensibly from the same agency she was supposed to be from. They were, in fact, strippers with elastic morals, there to fuck pretty much anyone who asked, much as she was.

While she'd read their profiles, April had realized early on there was no substitute for actually meeting someone, seeing how they interacted, viewed the world. Watching these two, she could see two people who knew each other, were ok with how they were, were ok with their chosen life occupation, and who didn't give much of a shit about anything or anyone else.

They were giggling, looking around, nudging each other, whispering to each other, looking slyly at April and Martin Steele and saying things and collapsing into giggles. All in all, more like teenagers than women with experience of the world.

April shaded her eyes and tried to make herself comfortable, as the boat cast off, exited the small harbor and hit the open sea. Thankfully, it was a calm day and the Zodiac cut through the water like a knife. There were some waves, but generally, April managed to wedge herself down the side of the boat and just held on.

Martin Steele glanced back at her, smiled and shouted something she couldn't hear. She just smiled back, hoping that was an appropriate response.

Three hours later, Kadavu Island had grown to a lush paradise. They cut round to the east. April did notice signs of habitation, although nothing beyond small villages and huts – no real large buildings or hotels - and after twenty minutes, they turned into a small natural harbor with curved edges on the side. It looked for all the world like a movie set – light blue sea through crystal water, a beach with white sand. Behind that, jungle like foliage, and in the middle of the harbor sat the Oroso Artificial Island.

The literature that she'd read didn't do it justice. It gleamed in the afternoon light, the setting sun reflecting off all the solar panels on its upper decks. It was circular, about three stories tall and looked spectacular. They swept in and tied at the back, where there was a small floating dock, complete with three jet skis. There wasn't enough space for both boats to tie up at the same time, so the one with the passengers tied up first, off loaded its cargo, and then backed off as the second one tied up. Martin Steele jumped in immediately and started off loading the boxes onto the dock, which another man – Mario Tropez, she recognized from the profiles – came out of the side door and, glancing at the new arrivals, started carrying the boxes inside.

April just stood there, clutching her bags, alternately looking up at he island, and back at Martin Steele, who suddenly realized he'd left his charges just standing there.

"Lets get inside."

April found herself inside a small antechamber, circular, with a couple of easy chairs and a long couch, attached to the wall. There were circular stairs in the corner, leading up, and in the walls several doorways, including the one she'd just come through.

"Right," said Steele, as the last of the boxes were deposited on the floor. "Mario, get these stored away. Ladies, lets get you organized. First, Sam, you are in room three. That one. Key is inside." He gestured at one of the doors. "Astrid, you are next door in room four. April, you are in room six. This level is the hired help facilities. The clients have rooms above us. Go stash your stuff, and we'll meet out here in fifteen minutes, and I'll give you the tour."

With that, everyone started to move. April went to the door marked six, and pushed it open, trailing her wheelie luggage behind her.

The room wasn't huge, but it wasn't as small as she was expecting either. Slightly cramped, a bed, a tiny set of bathroom facilities – she sighed in appreciation that even though there wasn't room for a full bath, it had one of those step in tub things, with the door that opens and closes and that can fill with water – the kind of things advertised for seniors. So she could use her bath bombs without having to dump them into the hot tub. That was a small relief.

The main room had almost floor to ceiling windows, but they didn't open. She noticed that the water line was only a couple of feet below the bottom of her window, so it was obvious why they didn't open. She idly wondered if, when the others got here, with the extra weight, if the island would sink down at all, and she might get to see under the waves.

The bed was a queen, which she didn't expect. There was a TV on the wall, wall sconces for light, a small closet and chest to put things in, and a small desk setup. The view outside the window, it looked like a cheap motel room. Which was fine by her. More than she was expecting.

She dropped her bags, used the bathroom and then wandered back out to the antechamber to wait for Steele and the others to show up. They weren't long and she noticed that both Sam and Astrid had changed clothes.

Steele came down the circular staircase and said, "Good, all here. OK ladies. This is Mario Topez. He's the cook here, so be nice to him. He makes the best ribs on the face of the earth, and he also does a wicked full breakfast."

April smiled at his usage of the word "wicked".

"Ok, so lets take the tour."

The girls and April were shown what was behind some of the doors on the "help level" as Steele called it. There were six rooms for the help, two with bunk bed arrangements in them, so it could sleep eight. Behind one room was the small engineering area, where there was a generator, banks of batteries being charged by the solar panels above, a water purifier system, even a small all in one washer/dryer and several other mechanical things that April glazed out over. There was a tiny machine shop in the corner, with things like drills, saws and stuff like that. In the corner was another door, with access to where the fresh water tanks were stored, the heating system and so on.

Behind another door was the large freezer – stacked with enough food, they were informed, to feed them all for three weeks. Behind another door was a tiny first aid suite, just big enough for a bed, a chair, a wall full of drugs behind a locked panel and some basic medical tools. She noticed there was even a tooth extractor on the wall. April idly wondered if anyone present actually had any medical training.

Then, there was the door towards the front of the island – as much as she could tell if there was a front or a back for a round island with no propulsion system.

On opening the door, everyone 'oohed' and 'ahhed'. It revealed a fully furnished media room. There were three levels of lazy boy reclining leather chairs, a projector, speakers all down the walls. At the back there was a large media center, and the screen at the front was probably twenty feet in size. It was like a mini movie theater. There was even a popcorn machine at the back. All the lighting was recessed – even strip lighting under the mantles near the floor.

April stood looking at it, and Martin Steele came up behind her and said, "What do you think?"

April glanced back at him, at the two girls and said, "I can't imagine what porn would look like up there."

He laughed and said, "You'd be surprised. This island comes complete with an eight-terabyte hard drive system with every movie you can imagine, and then some. I don't doubt there is some porn on there."

After that, the rest of the island was viewed through new filters. The upstairs, mid level, was opulent. A center room was circular, with all the newest and most comfortable furnishings. There was a bar on one side, with everything in it you could imagine. A smaller TV was mounted on another wall. Around the side were doors to the six client cabins. April took a peek inside and found to her surprise, they weren't that much bigger than her room. They were better furnished, and the bathrooms were nicer, but apart from that, not much difference. Although, as she looked at the floor to ceiling windows, she discovered another difference. They had a veranda. She opened the door and discovered that there was a veranda that wrapped the living area of the island; each room shared the same veranda. Then she realized that they were actually on top of the help level rooms – they had no veranda, since their roof was the relaxation area for the actual client rooms above.

It was nice. Close, but nice. She found herself wishing she could stay as a guest rather than the help. Then she remembered she was there to do a job, not have a vacation.

One other room on the mid level was shown – the kitchen. April was shocked. It was open plan, large, brand new and had every fixture she could imagine. But what else shocked April was the fact that the walls at the back folded back and the entire room could be opened to the elements. You could literally walk out of your room onto the veranda, walk around the edge of the island, and then into the kitchen, all without going inside at all.

They learned some new facts about the island. It was a beta design – it hadn't actually been proven yet and the owner had agreed to be a beta tester to get it cheaper. It had four anchors, so the island wouldn't rotate in place. Nothing worse than trying to get some sun and the thing you are sitting on rotating it out of view.

The island was stable, and shouldn't rock too much – the natural harbor also shielded them from tropical storms, so even if a hurricane hit, they'd have almost no turbulence. But in that situation, they'd take cover on the actual real island of Kadavu, since it had storm shelters built out of rock.

Then Steele took them outside. And that was a revelation.

There were two levels of outside. One on the main living area, and then another, above it. Smaller, but more compact, it was basically an outside luxury lounge. There was another bar there, a grilling station, several built-in lounge chairs, even a hot tub, all set up and ready for use. There were sweeping stairs that went down to the main living area, at the front end of the island – over the top of the media room downstairs. On the main living level, there were several recliners scattered around, and then Steele nudged April and nodded to one corner, where there was a full massage table setup. There were even several oils on a frame on the wall, and what April recognized as an oil warmer. It was a small jar, designed to have hot water put in it, then the bottle of oil. She was glad to see it, because she only had three bottles of different oil types in her luggage.

She went over and ran her hands over the table. It was obviously brand new. It even smelled like brand new leather. She smiled – elements of this might be fun.

She looked at everyone watching her and said, with a big smile, "Well. We need to break this baby in. Anyone want a massage later?"

She got answering smiles and lots of affirmative noises. And, it turned out, that was the end of the tour, but not before Martin Steele had a few things to say.

"Ok, ladies, Mario. Some ground rules. We know why we are here – we are here to make the following week go well. You may hear things, you may see things, but what happens here stays here. If the clients want to wander around nude, that's their prerogative. You are here to make them happy. Every way we can. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun too. You get to eat what they eat, you get to swim in the lagoon, too. Remember your sun block."

Astrid raised her hand. "Er, question? What exactly are we to do? I mean, I know we are here to be waitresses, but are we just supposed to sit around waiting for someone to ask for something? What are our duty hours?"

Steele looked at her and said, "Your duty hours are 24/7. Basically, if someone asks for something, you provide it. But you aren't expected to be in a maids outfit and hover. You can consider yourself as a guest too – just remember you need to make

them

happy, ok? Now, during the day, there will be games and events we'll schedule for the clients – things like throwing a case of champagne into the water and letting them swim down and pick it up. Stuff like that. You guys won't be taking part in any of those activities, but otherwise, you get to lie around and soak up the sun, too. Most of your duties will take place around mealtimes, and if you are asked to make a drink. I know you, Tara, are a qualified bartender, so make sure you familiarize yourself with the bar inside, ok?"

The two girls nodded at each other [where did Tara go?] and Steele and then got up and started to wander to stairs down to the help level. Steele called out after them and said, "Dinner is at seven. Be ready."

One of the girls – Samantha, April saw – raised her hand in acknowledgment, and then they went down the stairs.

Steele turned to April and smiled at her – a genuine smile - and said, conspiratorially, "I hope they do a better job than the impression they give."

April glanced over at the stairs and said, "Oh, I'm sure they will. How hard is it to give a blowjob? It reminds me of that old joke."

"What joke?"

"A man is asked, 'describe the worst blow job you've ever had.' And he looks at the person asking and says 'the worst??'"

Steele laughed, and then checked his watch.

"Ok, well, I have to store the new supplies. You should go get your head down for a while – the jet lag is a bitch here, because of how light it is. There's a small remote in your room that frosts the windows, and cuts out all light; it'll help you sleep."

"Oooh, clever! I wonder if I can get a gadget like that for home!" said April, snorting.

"I don't know. Lets just say, it wasn't cheap for this island."

"Can I ask a question?" asked April, with a curious tone.

"Sure," answered Steele.

"How did you come to be here? Pampering rich, sexed up bankers?"

He smiled, and it seemed to April it was a sad smile. "A story for another day," he said, and then added, "I need to get those supplies dealt with. See you at dinner."

And with that, he left.

April wondered. This had to be murder for him. She'd read his file, she knew why he was here, but she also knew his secret, and how hard this must be for him. Martin Steele was gay and had a full time partner at home. He was here for any of the couples who might avail themselves of some same sex opportunities. She resolved to have a one on one drinking session with Mr. Steele and have a long chat about what he actually did – if at all. From what she understood, everyone was heterosexual. But, she was tired and she needed to unpack, and she needed to get the audio bugs planted.