The Bimbo Blazer Ch 04 Spy

"I feel very strange..." she murmured.

"Don't worry about it," I told her.

"But... I should..." she said.

"Don't worry," I repeated.

"But I feel so... strange..." she said.

"But good," I prompted.

"Good...?" she asked, tasting the word and its potential.

"That's right," I told her smoothly and confidently. "You feel good."

"I feel good..." she muttered.

The estate really was gorgeous. Looking out the bedroom window down the rolling hill with its low-cropped green grass I could see down to a small dock on the lake. There were guards strolling here and there, of course, men and women in dark outfits with automatic weapons slung over their shoulders. They wandered this way and that in small groups, smoking and chatting but always keeping an eye out for danger. Luckily, I was already inside. And I wouldn't have to worry about them anymore.

"Please, Master," the suntanned model kneeling at my feet begged, her slim fingers wrapped around my cock and pumping slowly up and down. Her eyes were wide with desire, blue and burning with fire. "Fuck your personal slut like she deserves." Blonde hair ran down her back like a waterfall and it swayed back and forth as she lowered her head to continue her task.

I closed my eyes and sighed at the glorious sensation as another pair of hands slowly massaged the kinks that had developed of my shoulders after the long plane ride. Sensuous lips traced down the side of my neck and nipped at the base.

Alessandra Durand trailed her hand down my chest as she leaned in from behind, her full breasts pressing against my back. Her lips brushed against my ear as she whispered, "Take us both, Master. Own us both. We live to serve you..."

* * *

"Something bad is happening to me," she said.

"Nothing bad is happening," I told her soothingly.

"My mind is so... light. I can't think clearly," she murmured with a frown.

"You can't think clearly," I agreed.

"I can't think... clearly," she said.

"You can't think." I told her.

"What? I can't... think?" she asked.

"You can't think." I replied.

"I can't think," she repeated.

There were two men outside my door. Both were tall and white, wearing matching dark suits and black sunglasses, despite the fact that it was almost midnight. Obviously from some sort of government agency, or trying to pretend like they were.

I doubted they would go away if I ignored their knock, so I opened the door. "Hello?" I said in a voice that conveyed my surprise and curiosity.

"Nick Callahan," the one on the left said. I could have sworn it was the same voice Hugo Weaving uses in

the Matrix

when he calls Neo 'Mr. Anderson'. "We're coming inside."

I closed the door slightly as they tried to walk past me and raised my eyebrows. "Who are you?" I asked, keeping my tone light. I had the right to know that much, at least, before I let two besuited strangers invade my apartment.

"You can call me Agent One," said the man who'd spoken before. He jerked a thumb at his compatriot, who stood there silently. "And this is Agent Zero." He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a black wallet. He flipped it open and I saw a glinting badge with the letters C.I.A. stamped into it. "And as I said," he slid the wallet back into his coat, "we're coming inside."

I stepped out of the way as the pair of government agents tramped inside. I closed the door and turned around, then walked past them into the kitchen, mind racing. Had I done anything illegal recently? I didn't think so. I casually positioned myself near the knife block in case I needed to defend myself, just in case, and continued to turn the question over in my mind.

Why would two spies show up on my doorstep at midnight on a Tuesday...?

"What do you want?" I asked, figuring I might as well try the direct approach.

Agents One and Zero exchanged a look, then Agent One spoke again. His voice was smooth and calm. "We want to use you, Nick. Specifically, we want to use your invention, the hormone enhancement solution you call 'Evolve'."

My first reaction was surprise, then anger. "Have you been watching me?!" I demanded. "Have you been violating my right to privacy? What the hell is going on?"

"Wrong question, kid." Agent Zero spoke for the first time. His voice was rough and deep, unlike Agent One's. "You just answer our question — are you in or are you out?"

"In or out of

what?

" I could feel my heart rate increase as my brain struggled to comprehend the situation.

"It's a matter of national security," Agent One stepped in, moving a little closer and raising his palms peaceably. "We can tell you more once we're in a more secure location."

I shook my head as if to clear it, then leaned back and put my hand on the counter to steady myself. I could feel my the blood pounding in my temples. "What do you want me to do? What do I get out of this?" My words were coming faster than normal, and the CIA agents gave each other a look. "Where do you want to take me?"

Before I could react, Agent Zero moved with practiced speed, dropping his hand under his jacket and pulling out a pistol with a silencer screwed on to the end. I didn't have a chance to cry out before, with a soft coughing sound, the gun fired a round that punched into the fleshy part of my shoulder with a pain like getting a hundred vaccinations at once.

I wondered for a moment why Agent Zero failed to kill me, then I realized that it was a tranquilizer gun as the entire room suddenly started to spin. My body's internal systems, enhanced by Evolve, were more resilient than that of an ordinary man, and so it took a full ten seconds before my body collapsed towards the floor. Agent One stepped forward and caught me with practiced ease.

"Don't worry, Nick," he told me in a reassuring tone as I blacked out. "We're the good guys."

I woke up in a rather uncomfortable seated position with a crick in my neck. The room I was sitting in was a box of steel with a table, two chairs, what I could only assume was a one-way mirror and a bald man in a suit seated across from me.

"Where am I?" I asked groggily. "What's going on?"

The man shook his head impatiently. "You are boarding a plane in less than 30 minutes. I will explain everything. Do you understand?"

I nodded, still a little out of it. Whatever they'd given me was strong stuff.

"Good." The man nodded several times, then continued. His bald head shone in the light of the single light hanging above the table. "As you know, you are in the hands of the Central Intelligence Agency. Our Talent Acquisition department has been keeping an eye on you for some time, as they believe someone with your talent and IQ has potential. Your recent interest in hypnosis and mind control have triggered quite a lot of interest, and just recently a situation has arisen that we believe requires your unique set of... talents."

I tried to keep up. It felt as though the man was speaking faster than a normal person should, but I wasn't quite certain if that was his hurry or my brain was still half tranquilized. "What kind of situation?" I asked slowly.

"A French situation," my captor said. "It would seem that members of a dangerous and elite Moroccan military cartel are in the market for a shipment of highly-dangerous chemicals possessed by a certain French mob boss. Luckily, our connections in France have managed to entice the boss that we could offer a better price, and she is willing to hear our offer before she sells to the Moroccans. We are sending you as our negotiator."

I was finally catching up, and I wasn't sure I liked what I heard. "Me?" I asked, aghast. "Why would you want

me

, of all people?!"

The man gave me a hard look, as though it hadn't been his idea to use me, but answered anyhow. "We want you to gain mental control of this mob boss and convince her to tell you everything she knows about the chemicals and the cartel. As I'm sure you can guess, we would not be doing this if there were another way."

I shook my head. I was whirling again, but now the details were what was setting me spinning and not the drugs.

"Our plan has multiple redundancies," the bald, besuited man told me, "in order to ensure the greatest probability of success." He gave me a look that implied,

You better not fuck up.

"First, we were impressed with your mind control app's success when you used it on..." he paused to consult a slim stack of papers, "Miss Sharon McCarthy."

I tried not to look shocked. I'd always suspected that the government was watching everyone's phones and computers, but I'd thought I had locked all my sensitive data and projects in unhackable files. I shrugged inwardly. I guess nothing is unhackable when you have virtually unlimited time and resources.

"However, should your device be confiscated," the man continued, "then we have another play. We have taken the liberty of bringing some of your

Evolve

formula here from your home."

I narrowed my eyes at him as he reached under the table and produced a bottle of dark red wine. They were scamming me out of all my best creations.

"Our scientists have been... somewhat frustrated in their attempts to recreate it, so we decided that some of your own personal stash would be sufficient, and we added a substantial quantity to this top quality French wine." I grinned to myself. Good. Served them right that they weren't smart enough to decipher my formulas. "We are aware of the effect your chemical has on women, and also of the effect it has on men. Should you need to, offer the wine to Miss Durand as a show of goodwill."

I nodded. "Clear enough," I replied, realizing that my throat was dry. I coughed at the scratchy feeling of words in the back of my throat.

There was a knock on the door as I started to speak again, and the man shook his head at me. "Time to go," he told me. "They'll outfit you on the plane."

I rose to my feet, following his lead.

"Good luck, Nick," the man said, extending his hand.

I shook it. "Thank you?" I responded, though I really wasn't sure why I should be thanking any of these people.

* * *

"I can't think. Only listen," she whispered.

"You will listen," I affirmed.

"Yes. Listen."

"You will listen and obey," I ordered.

"I will listen and... no... no... stop, please..." she murmured.

"You will listen and obey." I repeated.

"Listen and obey?" she asked, concerned.

"Listen and obey," I told her.

"Obey..."

I recognized Alessandra Durand immediately from the dossier they'd given me on the flight over. The CIA intelligence report had done a good job of outlining her background: the only child of a now-deceased French crime boss who had taken over her father's empire, ruthless and devious personality with a weakness for wine and chocolate (that you definitely couldn't tell from looking at her).

What the resume couldn't capture was how absolutely stunning she was. Hell, even her two bodyguards, a man and a woman, both could have been professional models. They stood waiting on the private airstrip as the CIA aircraft touched down just long enough for me and my briefcase to deplane. Durand wore a cream-colored trench coat and large designer shades that hid her eyes. Her cheekbones were high and defined, and her dark flowing hair tumbled over her shoulders and stood out against the light material of her jacket.

I wore a dark, fitted suit that had somehow been tailored to my exact dimensions and someone's extra pair of sunglasses. I wondered if all agents are required to carry at least four or five pairs of sunglasses at once, just in case they lose one. I also wondered if the CIA had measured me for this suit at some point while I was unconscious. Creepy. I decided to focus on the more immediate danger presented by the French crime princess and her two probably-deadly retainers.

However, the drive from the airstrip to her estate was surprisingly pleasant. Alessandra and I sat in the back of a massive black Hummer while her bodyguards took the driver's seat and shotgun, and she immediately began to charm me with a rapid-fire series of questions and anecdotes, rattled off in excellent English with a delicious French accent. When she took off her shades, I was intrigued to confirm that she really couldn't be more than a few years older than me.

Don't underestimate her

, a small voice in the back of my head told me, but my hormones and her charm quickly made me forget those reservations.

"So, Nick," she asked conspiratorially as a large wrought-iron gate opened before us and we came up a long gravel drive towards a hilltop mansion. "What are you really doing here?" She rested her hand lightly on my thigh and leaned closer. "We both know the CIA and all its little tricks. They would never send someone with just one simple mission. You must be a man of many agendas." Her eyes were wide and innocent, but her tone was teasing.

I smiled back and raised my eyebrows at her.

"It's alright," she murmured. "You can trust me."

Here, at last, was a situation I was prepared for. Several years of using Evolve to help me get with girls had trained me in the art of this flirtatious double-speak. In spite of the high stakes, and the fact that this woman could probably have me killed with a word, felt myself relaxing into my role as international man of mystery.

"I'm sure I can," I replied with a confident smirk that could have melted a heart of ice. "But how about we finish business before I tell you all about my real mission?"

I could sense Alessandra enjoyed that I was willing to play her little game, and she settled back comfortably in her seat as we rolled up in front of the sprawling building. I watched her surreptitiously out of the corner of my eye, admiring her lithe curves and taut physique. She probably realized I was watching her, but she was the type who enjoyed being watched.

Several moments later, seated across from her at an impressively large table of dark wood with one bodyguard, the man, outside the door and the second, the woman, standing behind her chair, I sensed her playful side slip away as it was replaced by the hard-eyed mafia heiress. Her bodyguard was eyeing me suspiciously out of glinting blue eyes, her nordic features making her look the stereotypic Viking goddess. My phone was currently resting in her inside jacket pocket. So much for Plan A.

"Well?" Alessandra asked imperiously, waving one hand. A ring, one I hadn't noticed before, flashed gold and sapphire her pinky. "What do the Americans offer me?"

I took a slow breath, taking care not to let my facade of confidence slip. "Fifteen million," I said, quoting the brief I had been given back on the plane. "And," I raised the briefcase slowly and carefully to set it on the table, "a gesture of good will." I popped open the case to reveal the bottle of wine and several glasses.

I could tell that while I had not at all recognized the wine I had just showed her, Alessandra was impressed at the bottle on display.

"Madame?" the bodyguard spoke for the first time, interrupting her mistress as the mafiosa reached across the table to examine the bottle more closely. She rattled off a quick phrase in French, and Alessandra frowned slightly. Then she sighed. "Monique worries too much." She rolled her eyes at me as though to say,

What can I do?

and then added, "She thinks you are trying to poison me. Though, of course, we both know that it would hardly be to your advantage to do so."

I smiled slightly at her in a commiserating way. "If I may?" I asked. I took the bottle and quickly unstoppered it, then poured a small amount into one of the glasses. Raising it in the hint of a toast, I downed it in one swallow, enjoying the taste of the cool liquid as it ran down my throat. Though I couldn't taste it, I had experienced the effects of Evolve frequently enough to recognize that there was quite a lot of the formula mixed into the bottle. I almost grinned as I felt the chemical hit my bloodstream and release a surge of confidence and strength. It wouldn't take much of this to make Alessandra completely submissive and compliant, ready to give me anything I asked for. I made sure my features were relaxed as I smiled slightly and inclined my head at the crime princess. "Delicious."

Alessandra eyed the wine greedily, but glanced over her shoulder at her bodyguard.

I realized with a jolt that even if I was able to get the mafia boss to drink some of the drugged wine, with her bodyguard present there was no way I would be able to manipulate that situation to my advantage.

Monique eyed me warily, still not convinced the gift was safe. She muttered a few words, and Alessandra chuckled softly. "By all means, ma cherie," she said. "Just don't drink it all down."

Monique, still serious, took the other glass from the briefcase and looked it over carefully.

"She will taste test this gift of yours," Alessandra told me with a casual gesture. "If it is safe, I will enjoy my own drop of your delectable offering."

I waved my hand in a

go ahead

motion.

Thank you, Monique

, I wanted to say,

for being so careful to keep your employer safe that you are putting both of you in my power.

The blonde bodyguard poured herself a small amount of the wine and sniffed it carefully with a thoughtful expression on her face. Presumably not scenting poison (or my Evolve), she tipped the glass back and downed it in one swallow.

I couldn't help but admire her profile as she did so. Her features were delicate but strong, well-defined. I wondered if she was this cold and professional in bed. Then I thought with glee that now that she had tasted the drugged wine I would likely get the chance to find out. I decided that someone as uptight as her was probably a scream-and-rake-the-sheets kind of gal.

I watched Monique's face carefully after she had placed the glass back on the table, waiting for the Evolve to hit. Her expression was tense, as though she expected to feel some sort of venom hit her system any second. Instead, I saw as her features involuntarily morphed into an expression of pleasure and calm, her shoulders sagging slightly as a smile lit up her face. The scientists back home had made sure to make the drink so potent that even the small taste she'd had might be enough to swing this situation to my advantage.

Alessandra eyed her in a playfully dour way. "I assume that it's not poisoned then?" she asked with mock severity. "Since you are now taunting me by enjoying the delicious flavors you planned to deny me?"

Monique nodded, coming back to earth with an apologetic nod. But I could see behind her eyes that she was still a little spaced out from the drug. I would need to move quickly before it wore off.

"Before we continue then," I offered, reaching out and lifting the bottle, then pouring a full glass for myself now and one for her, "Maybe we can toast to a successful business arrangement?"

Alessandra took her glass with a nod of gracious thanks. We

clinked

and drank, she more than me. I placed my drink back down on the table and allowed a wide smile to break out across my face.

And now... Time to play...

I rubbed my hands together. "Wonderful," I said in a satisfied tone.

Alessandra shot me a confused sort of of look but I ignored it. I would have to move fast in order to take advantage of the brief effects of the small amount of Evolve they'd each consumed.