License to Steal..
He entered his hotel suite which had been serving as a base of operations for his city sojourn.
Undoing the hand tied Bowtie of his tux’s stiff white shirt; he sat on the bed and pulled something out of a secret pocket. He held up this evening’s prize, a long silver necklace embedded with diamonds and emeralds. He smiled with wicked satisfaction as he let the sparklers catch the lights, reminiscing about the lady in the slick gown of hunter’s green who had up until a couple of hours ago been wearing it. She had been a delight to dance with. So enraptured with him as she had listened to him weave his stories that he had no problems slipping her glamorous necklace, unnoticed, off her throat and into his palm( Not that any of ‘em ever did). It was worth a small fortune, and the pretty things value was the reason he had called it an early night, even though there had been many interesting bejeweled prospects left behind untried.
A sudden, unexpected rap at his door brought him instantaneously back to cold reality.
He stashed the necklace and calmly went to the door, opening it as he pretended he was just than loosening his bowtie. As the door swung he observed two stone faced men, dressed impeccably in fitted dark suits. One of them flashed an official looking set of credentials’ in his face. Yes, he coolly asked, in his naturally suave debonair manner.
Yes, just be wanting a word with you then sir, the man holding the card said in a crisp Londoner’s accent, as the pair crossed the threshold.
Three weeks later:
A feeling of hot anticipation begins a slow burn between her legs, equaling the red sunset begging to peek out on the horizon. Her nipples rise erect as she brushes a hand along her silky skirt, her longish hair, usually braided back, spilling down loose along her shoulders. Pretty, she both looked and felt, as she contemplated the free evening ahead. There is a skip to her step as she clicks her heels on the cobblestone driveway where her Gold coloured 74 Lotus Europa Special was parked.
Snuggling into the sports cars’ seat, she slips on a pair of dark sunglasses before turning the key and firing the ignition. She presses a pointed, high heeled clad foot on the accelerator and felt the engines powerful purring revs as she sped up a little, excitement simmering. A song by the group Journey starts to play on the cars tape deck, the beat of the music matching her mood, beat for beat as her heart races with the engine. She just knows that tonight something will happen to break her out of the tedious doldrums she has been experiencing lately while being confined to her desk. Putting the pedal down, the Lotus’ powerful engine screaming in protest, she accelerates down and out of the drive.
Twenty minutes later , reaching her destination, she whipped into the parking lot, pulling into a space at the end. Slipping out, she felt her long skirt rustling as it spilt down along her legs. She knows that her Jewelry is sparkling prettily, bursting out in a colorful frenzy.
She looks around, slipping the pair of sunglasses into a small velvet purse. As she walked away she locks the car with her key chain, the cheerful chirp catches the ear of a suited man sitting in a red Porsche, he smiles as he observes the willowy lady. He is totally invisible behind the dark one way smoked glass of the windows of the government issued sports cars’ he is using.
Stiletto heels click as she walks away from the parking lot and crosses the street to a night club. Music can be heard echoing from within the buildings walls. She walks past a dark window, which reflects back her image.
That image is of a pretty girl, who is devastatingly dressed to kill. She is wearing a shimmering long sleeved black satin jacket with faux diamond buttons, covering a slippery smooth white satin blouse with billowing sleeves and long ruffles hanging down the front. A jet-black ankle length fluid silk skirt pours like wet liquid from waist to the top of her high heels. A pair of cascading diamond earrings flicker alongside each of her rouged cheeks. On one wrist dangles a wide diamond bracelet. She is smiling demurely, watching its fire as it moves it in and out of the light. A pair of rings, one a ruby and diamond pinky ring, the other a princess cut diamond, completes her ensemble. She slowly, deliciously, takes all of this in as she stops and runs her long fingers through her silky hair, unaware of the eyes following her from inside the red Porsche.
She turns and enters the club, let in by a burly security type who nods his head in silent greeting, his eyes giving away nothing as she alluringly smiles her thanks. 15 minutes later, the red Porsche rumbles past the clubs entrance, carefully watched by the security guard, who is paid to notice these things.
Several hours later the same pretty lady leaves the night club. Overheated from the close atmosphere she had just left, she decides to take a quick stroll through the large park adjacent to the nightclub.
She finds herself walking alone alongside an old pointed wrought iron fence that follows an inside path. Reaching a gate, she reads a sign that points away along the path, on it is written in scrypt ‘Garden Common” , it hangs from a vine covered column. A cord of small white lit bulbs is intertwined with the ivy leaves, casting a glow to the column. The woods are heavy on the opposite side of the path, thick with vines and Rhododendrons. Several old stone benches are on this side, next to each bench are ornate poles hung with old fashioned lamps. Looking like old Victorian gas lights, they cast pools of illumination around the benched areas. She goes in through the gate and curiously begins to wonder how much further the path goes. Up ahead she sees the fence end and a row of hedges begin where the path turns a corner. Reaching the hedge she hears a low male voice, coming from the path around the corner. She wonders what is up with that? Listening close, she begins to move ahead, going around the corner cautiously.
By a stone bench she observes a dirty leather clad girl and her male motorcycle jacketed companion standing, talking, a small dog on a leash is lying at their feet. She is spotted, and they warily observe one another. The dog starts to barks annoyingly as it also spots the newcomer.
Hello the man says turning towards the newcomer, smiling through broken teeth. I thought we were alone out here. Sasha , he says to the dog, which stops its barking. Smiling, the pretty lady approaches them, albeit a little cautiously, her sense on high alert, almost smelling the sweet sense ( to her) of danger in the aire.
I was beginning to think I was alone out here also, she says, brushing a loose hair from her eye while looking over the pair. Rough she thinks, I wouldn’t want to meet them in a dark alley. Then she realizes that basically, that is where she is. The dog is whining, straining to reach her. The leather clad chick looks the newcomer over with chilly eyes as the man continues to talk with a slight accent, Cornish the lady thinks. We have not really seen anyone else out here yet either, he says, still grinning, she can see his eyes looking her over, head to toe, taking inventory, of what the willowy blonde can only imagine. His female companion remains mute. The blonde bends down to pet the panting dog, her bracelet, slipping out from the sleeve, sparkles its dazzling array of glittering fire nonchalantly she quickly pushes it back up out of site. Hello Sasha, she purrs, stroking its silky coat as the dog licked her ringed finger.
Suddenly something cold and metallic presses into her backside. A voice behind her exclaims, okay lady, stic em up. She stands, arms raised high in total obedience, noticing the couple in front of her were just staring. She had to hand it to them, she had had never heard the third person approach from the woods behind her. Hand it over the cold voice menaces. The leather clad girl, still mute, girl taking her eyes away from the newcomer, stoops to occupy the little dogs attention. Hand what over what? the pretty blonde lady, almost too politely, asks the man at her back. She stares at the leather clad girls companion, who now was approaching wearing a nasty sneering, eyes going back and forth, watching all around. Take the purse, the faceless voice commands the motorcycle jacket clad man, and he obediently wrenches the velvet purse form her hand, while eyeing her hungrily up and down. Thanks pretty lady, he smirks nastily.
Cold fingers reach around and roughly pull back her hair, exposing the glittery, dangling earrings. They are costume jewels she says calmly, not worth your time, she states to the unseen man holding the gun to her back. We are not fools lady, give them up! he commands from behind as motorcycle jacket holds out an open hand! She brings her hands to her ears, undoing and removing the expensively shimmery earrings. She lays them with a forlorn look along the man’s outstretched palm, the man, seeing the look in her eyes grows excited. They do sparkle prettily she thinks sadly to herself, as motorcycle jacket eyes them wolfishly. The rings also, Lady ! the sullen. Unseen voice behind her coldly states in her now naked ear, snapping her back to reality of the situation. She deliciously feels cold chills creep down along her spine. A cool breeze rustles the trees, catching her blouse, its material cool along her arms. She pulls off each of her rings, placing them in the waiting palm. Watching as Motorcycle Jacket places the earrings and rings inside the velvet purse, she suddenly feels cold fingers slip under the satin jacket and feel along the collar of her white satin blouse. Checking for a necklace she thinks, keeping her temper in check as he gropes.
Don’t forget her bracelet, the leather clad girls states, speaking for the first time. She is looking past her, keeping watch on the path. Her eyes are avoiding contact with their pretty victim, her hair is swept in front of her face by the breeze, she brushes it aside, she observes a tattoo of a cross on the leather clad girls arm. Her own arm is gripped by strong fingers, as Motorcycle Jacket’s hands pull up the satin sleeve of her jacket, exposing the bright bracelet to the lamps light. It flickers magnificently in his eyes. I’ll have that also, the voice behind her states triumphantly. The gun is pressed deeper into her backside, slipping along the silky material. She undoes its clasp, and it is grabbed from her fingers and eyed it victoriously. Let me see it, the girl sneers. Motorcycle Jacket tosses it to her obediently. She grabs it and looks it over happily, watching it sparkle. Let’s finish this job, mate , the unseen man’s voice behind her commands the other.
As motorcycle jacket approaches her she suddenly feels a pair of hands behind grasp and peel the black satin jacket off her back. Her arms are pinned back from behind, and motorcycle jacket starts to reach towards her, his eyes plainly showing his intent.
The Leather Jacketed girl holding the dogs leash is looking away as the men prepare to” finish the job.”
Seizing her chance, the lady in the billowy white satin blouse and long skirt presses her back into the man holding her arms and using him like a springboard catapults her legs forward so the her long stiletto heels sink into motorcycle jackets chest, knocking him backwards. Surprised that their hapless victim was fighting back, the man behind her released his grip and the lady pulled her arms from him as her feet touched ground. She whipped around and for a second saw a heavy bearded man with a ponytail look into her eyes with alarm as she raised her arm and sent two fingers jabbing into his eyes, her knee going up into his groin, totally immobilizing him as he collapses in a heap.
She then swirled around and advanced upon the motorcycle jacketed bruiser as he was regaining his feet. She sent a knee into his chin and as he crumpled, smashed her open hand into the side of his neck, temporarily paralyzing him as he loses consciousness. She then turned her attention to the leather clad girl, who had tried to flee, but had been tripped up by the Sasha’s leash. In two steps the willowy lady was upon her, savoring the fear reflected in the thugs eyes as the tough girl now cowered in fear. She raised and smashed her hand into the same area of the neck as she had her companion, with a satisfying crunch. And watched as the girl, effectively immobilized, crumples to the ground. The yapping dog she ignored as she went through the pockets of all three of her muggers, retrieving her purse and jewels. Then she took anything else of value they possessed.
She walked coolly away, thinking they should have just stuck with nicking her jewels. As she walked out of the park she deposited all of the three muggers personal possession’s she had taken into a charity bin, than headed to her car, feeling wonderfully happy that she had been able to actually enjoy herself and get some exercise in for once while out for the evening.
She nods at the grim-faced doorman, relishing in the quizzical look her gives her over her disheveled appearance as she walks past with her jacket laying over one arm. She reaches her car and slips behind the wheel. Stars the engine and lets it idyll as she basks in her adventure. Suddenly her radio clicks on, and a tape starts playing. A male voice with an all too familiar richly accented brogue speaks out with a well-rehearsed phrase:
Agent Willow, You are needed.
The main doors of the ornate, centuries old building are held open by a pair of burly security types, their keen eyes scanning the fancy dressed VIP’s and their escorts as they enter the establishment, ever watchful, ever on the alert. The jewels that some of the women are sporting are worth a king’s ransom, and they know that there are many in Bruges who would think nothing of slitting a few throats to get at them. They, of course, take their job very seriously, as do several others in attendance that evening. Especially the pretty blonde wearing a salmon coloured gown and pearls whom at that moment was passing said guards.
The hallway inside is brightly lit. A sign indicates that the ball is being held in the last room to the left of the hallway. The guests move elegantly down the carpeted hallway as they enter the ballroom.
All in the cavernous ballroom was glittering as large chandeliers set off a spectrum of colors with any crystal or glass it touched. It especially created shimmers as it played off the colorful jewelry the ladies present were wearing. Several couples were dancing in front of a 17 piece orchestra, a slow dance, and many were dancing almost too close. Many more people were mingling around tables of appetizers. A large, chattering crowd was also gathered at the long oak bar that took up one whole side of the huge room. It was here that Willow, the pretty lady in the salmon coloured satin gown, had decide to head upon entering, to set up the trap
Agent Willow stands stand with her back to the bar, Her deep blue eyes watching carefully over the crowd. She had just arrived, and “he” was due in about 30 minutes. Willow refused to think of him as a partner, or even consider him a co-conspirator in the mission taking place that very evening. Set a thief to catch a spy she thought, what bloody bureaucratic Idiot came up with that one!
As her eyes scanned the crowd trying to catch a glimpse of her quarry, Willow replayed her meeting a week ago in the Minister’s office.
Willow had been admitted just as Miss Youngblood, his young secretary had been bringing in tea. Willow complimented her on her outfit, a blue satin blouse set off with a long velvet skirt. She beamed, going out with later my fiancé miss, she smiled, showing off the vulgarly large engagement diamond upon her finger.
After Youngblood had left it was all business. Willow was told in no uncertain terms that her mission was more baby-sitting than actual action. We have managed, the minister explained, to convince a rather roguish gentleman who we have codenamed “Hazel” to enter our employ. “Hazel” thought Willow, thinking of a tree with sinewy long tangling branches crawling about where ever they pleased, unwelcomed. Willow continues listening to the minister. “Hazel” has a rather unique skill set that we feel could be of some benefit from time to time. It was with that in mind that we managed to net him by using a rather elaborate trap, with some rather expensive bait I might add, that he was permitted to keep as sort of a retainer, so to speak.
Willow listened, wondering where it was leading. The Minister seemed to be choosing his words with caution, like he was trying to sell something he knew Willow wouldn’t readily swallow.
It appears that Synthia has once again surfaced he stated carefully. Willow clearly remembered a long red haired femme fatal who was both rogue spy, and an unparalleled courtesan. Willow had had her nose slapped by Synthia while on a mission almost two years ago, letting her get away with some rather sensitive documents.
The Minister went on; It appears that a double agent of a cold war country has been operating amongst the Americans. They, the Americans, are as of yet ignorant of his presence, but we are not, he added triumphantly! This agent has acquired the complete defense plans of the United States east coast.
There is to be international summit of all the heads of state next week in Bruges and we understand that he will part of the US envoy. This double agent will then be passing off this information to his superiors. He has the plans on microfilm and smuggled them out of the US hidden in a jeweled bracelet belonging to his wife. Our operatives in the States discovered this and managed to have a duplicate of the bracelet made. It is to be Hazels job to switch the ladies bracelet (which she will be wearing to the presidents ball next Saturday evening in Bruges) with the copy.
However, we have found out that one of Synthia’s male operatives has worked his way into the arms of the double agent’s eldest daughter. We believe that he plans to acquire the bracelet by means of a simple stick up, probably accomplished by luring the foreign spy’s wife and daughter outside where they will be relived of the jewels they are wearing, including the bracelet, before the proper exchange can be made to the spy’s superiors. After which Synthia will sell the microfilm to the highest bidder, which is her usual MO.
Willow you come into play as Hazel’s control. After Hazel has switched the bracelets, you will be the one secreting it out of the ballroom and transporting it out to your team. We have placed false plans into the duplicate bracelet with the hopes that Synthia will be caught trying to peddle the fabricated information and be discredited. Thus causing a bit of damage to her spy network, On our part, we will have information on the US that we can use as leverage for future strategies.
It was at this point a buzzer sounded on the desk, the voice of Miss Youngblood was heard over the pa announcing a gentleman’s arrival. Send him in the minister said.
The door opened and a man walked in backside first as he finished paying Miss Youngblood a cheeky compliment. He turned, his eyes looking Willow appraisingly up and down. He resembled the actor William Powell, right down the smart little trimmed moustache. Willow was introduced to the man only as Hazel. She met his confident handclasp firmly, not allowing herself at all to be mesmerized by his twinkling green-grey eyes. Just how good do you think you are mate, she found herself thinking cynically, not bothering to hide it in her eyes as she looked him over. The man oozed a suave sophisticated refined air which Willow was not buying. They both took their seats as the minister went over the finer points of the mission.
As the meeting ended, all three rose. Willow turned to Hazel and said smartly, are you sure you are capable of switching the bracelets, because there are other means of acquiring it?
Yes he said, patronizingly, but my way is the best path to take to make sure the false plans get into the wrong hands love; he cupped Willows chin, stroking it with his fingers, infuriating her. He then turned towards the minister, and laid a vulgarly large diamond engagement ring on his desk. You may want to see that the pretty miss who served tea gets this back, he said, giving Willow a gleaming wink as he turned and headed out the door.
The evening before the mission in Bruges Willow had received a knock upon her hotel door to find a dozen pink roses , from an unnamed source., Good luck was written with a masculine hand on the card. Willow had had no doubt who they were from. She set down the roses on the vanity , taking the time to look herself over . The shiny salmon gown fitted perfectly over her figure, a little showy she thought, but give em something to look at she said to herself, pleased. She placed her faux pearl necklace and bracelet on, and then lifted up her grandmothers dangling diamond and pearl earrings with diamond studded lever clasps. The antique set had been a gift from some rich duke or earl of something. Give him something to drool over she thought, as she placed them on.
Than unceremoniously chucking the roses into a rubbish can, she had left for the President’s Ball.
Willow was snapped back to reality when she spotted the double agent’s wife wearing a gold gown. Willow felt heart skip a beat, the wife was wearing a pair of matching bracelets, one on each arm. One was probably real, the other was the copy that contained the microfilm, but how to tell the difference?
It was then that she spotted the young man , dapper in tails, who was escorting a long haired brunette wearing a glossy red satin gown across the room. She recognized him immediately as one of Synthia’s operatives, a face she had seen briefly once before. The young couple headed out the exit, passing by Hazel who was just entering. The man’s got timing, Willow had to admit to herself.
She waited until Hazel came up next to her and ordered a drink. Your target is wearing the long gold satin gown, Willow said under her breath to him, but there is a problem. She has matching bracelets Hazel said, finishing her sentence. Don’t worry love he clucks maddingly to Willow. Daddy is here. Just have to watch for a few minutes, I can always tell by observing a few subtle hints which piece of ladies jewelry is the most precious to her. The newer bracelet will not be as guarded. Just go out and make sure lover boy is out of the picture, I have my end covered, he said dismissingly.
Willow walked out of the exit, fuming, who was he to be giving the commands!, you and I my friend , will be having a few choice words once the mission is over Willow promised herself.
The gorgeous young thing in the fiery red, glossy satin gown, decked out in small jewels that glitter with expensive fire, was in the garden, lost in an embrace with Synthia’s boy in tails.. Willow watches as he takes her ring encrusted fingers and kisses them lightly. Neither one notices the pretty lady in a salmon gown that is watching intently, Good, Willow thinks, he is definitely occupied. Willow follows them as they delve deeper into the depths of the massive garden.. Synthia does not micromanage; her operative will be the only one working on the inside. And right know he is on the outside, Time for her to give Hazel the signal to strike.
Willow walks back inside in, she freezes, seeing Hazel in the arms of a lady in a sky blue dress.
As Willow looked on she notice that Hazels dance partner’s necklace is moving, he must be rubbing her neck she thinks to herself. But then she sees a jeweled end come loose, and with an obviously practiced flick of his fingers, the necklace slips away from her throat and deftly into his hand. It all happens in seconds, the lady in the sleek blue dress laughing at something he had just said, her necklace being lifted and his hand smoothly moving down her back and into a trouser pocket, depositing the magnificent sapphire necklace inside. He moves on, never missing a beat, His victim never aware of what had just happened, chatters on happily. Willow stiffened, like a cat about to pounce. Willow watched as Hazel kisses the ladies hand in farewell and walks away, Willow intercepts, and leads Hazel back to the dance floor, her eyes blazing.
She was now in his arms, lecturing him. Now look her mate!, she spitted, bristling, you gave your word not to jeopardize the mission. He smiled, looking calmly into her smoldering blue eyes. My end of the mission is over. Willow looked at him in surprise, you …, you have it she sputtered. Reach into my left pocket he stated matter of fact. Willow did, feeling the coolness of the heavily gemmed bracelet. She curled it into her hand and removed it as the dance ended. Idyll hands are the devil’s workshop, my dear he simpered. He let her go, than raised his hands to her face, cupping them on either side of her cheeks, lifting her face so she was forced to look into his twinkling green grey eyes. Now, now my dear, don’t be catty with me, I am always as good as my word. Willow pulled back, giving him an indifferent smile, and with a swish turned her back on him, heading straight towards the hallway leading to the nearest exit.
As she stowed away the bracelet, Willow glanced back at him. He was already onto a new conquest, chatting up the heavily jeweled daughter of some dignitary. She shook her head in disbelief at the man’s egotistic self-centered traits. Suddenly Willow realized something was not right, and she felt her earlobes, her face reddening with ire. The arrogant bastard had taken her diamond pearled earrings, and there was nothing she could do about it!
Willow walked purposefully out of the exit, not even acknowledging the guards nodding to her as she left. She cuts trough the gardens, seeing something glittering at one end, she cuts around for a better look. There Willow spots Synthia’s male agent, with both the daughter in red, and her mother in gold, the lady’s remaining bracelet sparkling luxuriously in the moonlight. Willow, wondering how he had managed it, decides to split before the next act can take place, which she is sure revolves around the pair of Ladies losing their pretty sparklers.
She heads onto the street, walking to the end of the block. Then she turnes two corners and darts down a dark alley, still bristling with wrath at Hazel’s patronizing actions. A pair of shadowy figures detache themselves from behind a rubbish bin, and cut off Willow, one is brandishing a wicked knife in his right hand. Bloody hell, Willow thinks to herself, are these the two idiots that were probably hired by Synthia’s agent to relive the pair of ladies of their jewels in the garden?
The one with the knife speaks, hello doll, you know what my friend her and I want, so just hand’em over and you won’t be hurt. Willow calmly, but quickly, mulled it over. Protocol would be just to give the pair what they wanted, and let them go on their way. Any other action would chance jeopardizing the end game of her mission. But then protocol never had her dealing with an annoying bugger like Hazel! So, therefore….
Willow smiles, Hazel she asks? The man with the knife looks at her curiously, his friend stands mute. My name aint no Hazel he snarls, now let’s have em sister, quick if you value your life. Not Hazel huh, Willow says, but you will do, and with a quick spin, her gown fluttering up above her knees, she lets go a kick at the Man’s midriff. The Knife falls to the ground with a clatter. Her hand chops down on his neck, and he falls into a heap, temporarily stunned.
Wotcher up to missy, his companion snarls, as he makes an attempt to grab Willow, who just spins out of his grasp, aided by her slippery gown. She grabs his arm pulls it behind him, jamming her knee into his back, forcing him to his knees. Papa always said a girl should look after her own self, she whispers into his ear, as her fingers delve into his neck, pinching the nerve that renders the man totally immobile.
Rising, she brushes herself off. The pair of thugs will only be out cold for a few minutes, long enough for her to make her exit. It would not due to have them permanently out of action, they have a job to finish, a job that hopefully will cause some great aggravation for a certain master spy names Synthia.
Willow, her anger towards Hazel now lessoned a quantum, reaches the other end of the Alley. She goes around a corner of a building, and heads down the street, where about a half block away where a black van with the name of a local caterer was parked. Reaching the van, Willow raps on the back door once, than three times. The door opens and she was admitted in.
By Jove one of the men inside said examining the bracelet under a jeweler’s glass, he nicked the microfilm.
Let’s roll Willow snapped. What about your mate? They asked. He can find his own way home, if he manages to stay out of the goal first Willow added scathingly, then under her breath she mutters…. Would serve the minister right, granting a bloody thief a license to steal!
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Posted by Subsequent Wickedness on 2016-01-14 00:50:45
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