Disclaimer-It is all fiction.
Author Note--There's some violence in this one, but if you've watched a PG 13 movie, it shouldn't be too bad. Let me know if the fight scene either worked or didn't work for you. It's all a learning process.
The Ponytail Express
Chapter 12: Rematch
Fred made his way back up to the suite with more questions than answers, especially regarding his liaison with "The Chameleon." As Minka, she worked for Mr. Terry and the firm of Yull, Petechons, and Graham. It was clear she was also working for another shadowy faction, frying the tracker stitched inside the shoulder wound Minka had ironically provided. Now, she was working for him, to an extent. Usually when a woman took his seed, whether it be mouth or pussy, it meant she was his. Still, any dealing with The Chameleon warranted caution.
He was exhausted. The past 24 hours was one big fuck-fest, and he needed to rest. Mia was also distraught, understandably, because her nightmares were in the same hotel. Mr. Terry and Guppy were not going away easy. Through scent, Fred knew his quarry was eating and drinking in the bar.
Looking blearily at the mass of text messages on his cell, he picked ones from the two women who meant the most to him.
Oni texted, "I'm in the hotel, getting my room. Thanks for the info, Fred. Love you, miss you."
"Are you okay? Tick-Tock, babe," was from Deb.
He responded to both as he walked through the foyer. The door opened to reveal Mia, performing her best impression of a Nirvana groupie in a plaid unbuttoned shirt over a black tank top with a pair of stonewashed jeans. Her thick, curly red hair gave her a wild look.
"Took you long enough," she spoke, watchful green eyes tracking him. Fred shook the pail of ice plaintively.
"I come bearing cold gifts, madam," he said, chortling in a horrible British accent.
Mia winced. "Voice-over work is not in your future," she stood unmoving at the threshold. The young man slowed but didn't stop. "Why don't you come in and listen to our- "
"Scratch one enemy off the board." Fred said, hugging the confused redhead.
"Wait. What?" Mia hugged him back. Niamh was on the couch eating and drinking in sweats and a sweatshirt, while Deb cycled through her text messages. She'd changed into snug fitting blue jeans and one of Fred's plain white t-shirts, tucked in over a sports bra. Deb's signature ponytail finished the look.
Exhausted, Fred tried a half-truth. "Met someone who promised to resolve our Minka issue."
"Uh huh." Mia sounded unconvinced, maneuvering Fred into the room while locking the door. Niamh waved from the couch, eyeing him speculatively. Deb strolled over, looking mildly concerned.
"Tell us what happened, Freddy."
He gathered his thoughts, then began. "Remember that girl that came in here with the massage tables?"
"The blond?" Mia asked.
"Yeah, the blond. She requested a meeting in the closest laundry room. There was some ScSc involved, and now she's watching my back. She's going to neutralize Minka, in a non-violent way."
"How do we know that for sure?" Mia asked.
Fred eyed the ladies, but lingered on Mia as he answered, "Trust me, Minka is handled."
Deb nodded. "Good news! That's one down."
The redhead shifted her feet anxiously. "Specifics would be nice, Fred, but I trust you. Deb, wanna reveal our plan to Fred?"
"Slightly altered because of Minka, but why don't you, Mia?"
Fred caught a glance between them, reminding him of the mismatched couple in every romantic comedy, starting out as enemies but admitting their true feelings for each other by the end. Happily ever after.
"Have a seat, Fred."
Taking a seat on the couch with Niamh, they exchanged grins. While he was more affable, hers suggested carnal promise. Deb took a seat between them, much to the brunette's chagrin. The sexy blond smirked at the bulge in his pants.
If Mia said, "We get you close; you do your thing, we keep any extras off you, then you convince Mr. Terry to tell us who he's really working for. You command him to keep it to himself until the prosecution asks, that way his defense team doesn't know." Mia paced in front of the wall-mounted television, which was currently off.
"Yeah, but the defense will ensure he won't testify."
"Use your mojo to convince his defense to make him testify. That fuckstick Mr. Terry will tell you who they are. Bada boom, bada bing, we win."
"Sounds good. We might catch them at the bar."
"I'll recon them, unless your new ally is going to help us," Deb queried, her tone somewhat mocking.
"She's busy," Fred quipped back, "handling Minka."
It was a good to be suspicious. Things were getting tense and Fred wasn't the only one sensing a trap.
"Terry and Guppy have seen the rest of us," Mia attested. "Deb should go. Maybe we should get Oni to...?"
The fit blond rose from Fred's side. "Oni is a reinforcement not to be used unless things go pear-shaped."
Niamh inquired, "What does pear-shaped mean?"
"It's a colloquialism," Fred said, his voice calm. "it's what you say when things go bad." He rose from the couch.
"What's a colloquialism?" the brunette asked.
"Niamh and I weren't exactly home schooled. Fred, stop using arcane words," Mia said.
He sat back down, amazed. "You just used an obscure word."
Mia said, "Because I consumed a ton of media when I was on the job. Sometimes even during tricks."
Deb's honest eyes widened in surprise. "During sex?"
Mia nodded. "If you'd call it that."
Fred turned to Niamh. "What did you do during sex?"
"Enjoy it," the alabaster beauty grinned coquettishly.
Fred gulped, but then chuckled. "I had that one coming."
"Is that the only thing coming?" Niamh asked. Her hand was around her mouth, pinky just touching her lower lip.
He didn't want Mia to kill him, so he shook his head.