News NetworkA charming woman with a hundred surprises

A charming woman with a hundred surprises

By Armando Garcia (15/03/2012)3197 words
Tagged: creative, fiction, narrativ

The below story is fictional and has not been modified in any way through the editorial process. Any similarities with persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The content below may contain explicit material not suitable for children.

Vivian silently walked across the street. It was an especially dark night; as she walked she kept replaying her plan on her head. She knew it was not going to be easy, but she made a pact with herself that she would try to make it as simple as she could.

Her arms and legs were warmed up, thanks to the workout session she engaged in two hours ago: Pull-ups, push-ups, bench pressing, interval training and, as a way to strengthen her muscles even more, she ended with a complex but short cross fit circuit, a pleasure she only indulged in before an important assignment.

Despite her apparent addiction to working out, Vivian's body remained that of a normal woman. She was tall and athletic built, but not too muscular, although she did have a flat and strong abdomen she was almost as proud of as her breast size, which was enough to keep men alternating looks between it and her eyes, something she always found useful; after all, someone who struggles to look at someone's face will not be able to remember it. Her arms and legs were slightly toned, however, what they lacked in muscle mass, they compensated with great strength and flexibility.

A small brooch concealing picklocks tightened her blonde hair enough to keep her smooth face clear of locks of it that could block her field of vision.

That night she was wearing a black chiffon blouse under a satin sleeveless blazer, combined with a short skirt, all in the same color.

Vivian's plan was looking fuzzy and dangerous in her mind. Working alone proved to be an advantage in her profession.

Ten minutes went by as she walked towards the Stargazer Hotel, a five star palace-like building, with an ancient Greek finish on the outside and contemporary furnishings on the inside. It had the friendliest reception ever devised by modern man: As soon as you stepped inside, they offered you cocktails and escorted you to the table reserved in advance while awaiting your arrival. There, you were greeted with expensive hors d'oeuvre, which varied from elegantly presented crudités, to the finest varieties of caviar. Once you were enjoying the delicacies, an impeccably dressed man approached you and confirmed the information they had from your reservation. Finally, as you were signing the paperwork, a waiter approached your table with a bottle of champagne, and asked you if you'd like to order something from an exquisite menu. This proved to be a great strategy, since people who don't read the fine print of anything are easily distracted by champagne, and the dinner they offer is on the house. Needless to say, most people feel unnecessary to take on such a gift as they prefer to move on to their room, for which they just paid about fifty thousand pounds. Unfortunately for Vivian, she was not going to enjoy this royal treatment.

She got past the front desk as the manager gave her a cold look, which she brushed off. Vivian was counting on that glare, in a sense, she welcomed it. The lack of action from the manager let her know that both her attire and attitude had paid off. After all, in a hotel full of rich men, it is not unusual for someone to request some evening entertainment, the manager was well aware of this, and knew enough not to interfere with women like her.

On the 14th floor of the Stargazer Hotel there were no rooms, just a series of doors that lead to a beautiful example of the modern art imprinted on the rest of the walls, except for one, which lead to an office. The entrance to it was the door that in every other floor indicated the beginning of one of the most expensive suites available in the hotel.

Mr. Litt was not only the owner of the hotel; he also used it as a front for his less attention-worthy activities. He was tall and bald, but he still managed to grow a black moustache. His complexion was deceiving, he looked strong, but what people often thought of as muscles, were only several well-masked layers of fat.

He was sitting at his desk, looking at a screen on the left side of the room. The office was extremely spacious, although it lacked a lot of furniture: it only had two couches, two chairs for visitors, placed in front of the desk, and the most comfortable and elegant chair in the room was, of course where Mr. Litt sat.

-We need to find that son of a bitch -said Mr. Litt out loud, but to himself in an aggravated tone as he turned off the screen.
He put a cigar in his mouth and took out a small pack of wooden matches and lit it. Using wooden matches was not the best option to light a cigar, the chemicals that allow combustion damage the flavor, yet, Mr. Litt had discovered that, at least for his palate, a cigar lit with a wooden match or with an odorless flame had the same taste.

Suddenly, a noise broke his concentration: There was someone in the waiting room, outside his office. Mr. Litt placed a finger on a small button underneath his desk, which, when activated, would fire a shot towards the door, eliminating any threat within seconds.

The door opened slowly and Mr. Litt stayed still.

-Who's there? -He then asked in a commanding tone.

There was no response.

The door kept opening and Mr. Litt saw a male figure, holding a gun. He pressed the button and a single bullet flew across the room and hit the man's stomach. The man grunted but kept walking.

"Bulletproof vest" thought Mr. Litt, and pressed the button again.
A second bullet hit the man a few inches below where the first bullet hit. The man closed his eyes and his face changed into a mask of pain, still, he kept walking.

Mr. Litt decided to employ his last bullet to neutralize the intruder; he pressed the button once more.

A third bullet traveled across the room, whistling as it did so, and hit the man on the groin. He fell down on the floor, at first grunting and then, quiet and motionless.

As the man fell, a second one was revealed to be behind him. Mr. Litt tried to control the sudden instinct to scream for help, that button was his only defense and it was now useless.

The second man was instructed to approach the desk by a female voice; he obeyed as he stared at his boss with fearful eyes.

At the door, a beautiful woman appeared, she was holding a gun with her right hand, and her purse with the other. Mr. Litt observed her as she walked towards the desk.

-I have a deal for you -she said.

-You come in here, like this, and expect me to listen to you? Why should I? -said Mr. Litt, slightly raising his voice.
-You are right; you should not listen to a word I have to say until I prove myself worthy -said Vivian, smiling-. Let's play a game: if I win, you listen to me; if not, well, it won't matter; I'm going to shoot a single bullet to your man here, if I kill him, I win and you listen to me, if I fail, then your man gets a chance to shoot me, point blank; if I survive, you hear what I have to say, if I don't, well, just call the concierge -Vivian's eyes expressed a terrifying seriousness.

-What if I don't agree to play your "game"? -asked Litt.

-In that case -the woman sighed-. I will have to kill you both and go to your competitors; maybe they'll reward me for my effort.

-Fine, I accept -said the man, concerned.

Vivian pointed the gun at the guard and fired a single shot. The bullet went past the man, who instinctively ducked trying to avoid being hurt, and hit the window; a small crack appeared on the bulletproof film.

-You missed, it's his turn now -said Litt, regaining his composure.

-Yes, it's his turn -she gave up the gun to the guard-. Go ahead; shoot me whenever you are ready.

-Wait, Josh -said Mr. Litt-. She might be wearing Kevlar.

-In that case, put the gun close to my face and shoot -said Vivian in a playful way, teasing him.

Josh looked at his boss and then at Vivian, he held the gun up and pressed it against her forehead. A cold look waved over his face, taking control of his expression, he then pulled the trigger.

The sound of the shot filled the room and a loud scream followed it. Mr. Litt was frozen at the scene: Josh had fired the gun, and, as he did, it exploded in his hand, turning it into a mess of blood and charred skin, the bullet backfired and embedded itself in his collarbone, causing him to bleed profusely.

Vivan took a single step back and was not harmed by the explosion; she looked at Litt with seductive eyes and said:

-Now, let's talk about our business.

Mr. Litt was speechless; he kept looking intermittently at her, and at a bloody Josh.

-I understand you have a problem with one of your employees, someone who took something very precious to you. I can see why you demand loyalty and are cautious about whom you make business with, but, with your own people betraying you, it's hard to keep track of who is trustworthy.

-What do you know about that man? -asked Mr. Litt, as his eyes filled up with rage.

-Enough to find him; you see, I am not a bad person, just like you. I hate violence and will never take a life. That, of course, is something we don't have in common -Vivian sat down on one of the chairs in front of the man-. You have killed people, but, I reckon those people had it coming anyway, so, if you look at it from a businessman's perspective, those were just ways to close the deal.

-What do you want?

-One of your men did not play along as usual; he went too far and stepped outside the business, just to get to you. Maybe he was not being paid enough, or was being bossed around too much, who knows? The point is; he did something, a despicable act: He kidnapped your daughter.

-How do you know about Lisa? -said the man, as tears rolled down his enraged cheeks.

-I heard about it as I was investigating something, indulging in a hobby of mine. One of your guys told me you were looking for that man, for he not only betrayed you and took your daughter; he also demanded a ransom which you delivered, but he did not give you back your loved one.

-Where do you fit in all this? Why shouldn't I just give the order to eliminate you? How do I know you are not working with him, twisting the knife?

-Well, sure, you shouldn't trust me, nevertheless, if I wanted to harm you, I could just do it -she took out a lipstick with a golden finish and she pointed it at the man; a short whistling sound was heard and Mr. Litt felt a sharp pain on his chest, he looked down and saw a large amount of blood-. Like this... -Vivian put the lipstick away.

Mr. Litt was breathing heavily, the pain increased and he was looking at Vivian with terror. He could not believe that a woman got close enough to kill him, after giving him a chance to liquidate her first.

-Now that you are giving me those looks and I have your complete attention, let's proceed. I won't kill you, I despise taking a life. Although, like I said before, I understand why you do it. That's beside the point, though; I'm here because the son of a bitch who has your daughter did not give her back when you delivered the money, and he took her in the first place. The way I see it, you need someone you can trust, with enough talent to bring you your daughter, and I need someone with money. I know you gave up five million pounds to save her, and believe it was a small price. So, let me find that scum and bring your daughter back. In exchange I only ask for two things: Let me keep the money and give me an extra amount, just so I know we are in business.

-You just shot me and you expect me to hire you? Not to mention you made me kill one of my guards?

-Well, if you agree to my terms, I will even fix you up, that way you can send Josh to a hospital while you wait for me to get back, as for the other guard, I'm sure you can find a decent excuse.

-Alright, I accept your terms, just, get me to a doctor so we can get this over with -he pressed his hand against the wound.

-No, first we make the transfer; I understand it is possible to make it from this computer. Do it quick and I'll apply my thorough knowledge of medicine to heal you up to a point where it will seem like it never happened.

-How much more do you want?

-Just two million quid -she said nonchalantly.

Mr. Litt sent the money to the account number that Vivian gave him, he felt like he was about to faint, but struggled to keep his senses long enough for her to bring his daughter back.

-Now that I have the first part of my money, it's time I go collect the rest, goodbye.

-Wait! No, you said... -Mr. Litt yelled at her as she walked away.

-Yes, I did tell you I would use my medical knowledge to help you, but you might also want to know that I have a deep understanding of chemistry. What I shot you with was not a regular bullet; it was a small plastic pellet with two things inside: blood and a minuscule needle. The needle injected you with a pain-inducer, that gave you the impression you were badly wounded, while you were not in any real danger whatsoever. The blood inside the pellet serves a rather fascinating psychological objective: If you manage to convince someone that they are in danger, it only takes a little physical response and a bit of blood for the mind to start feeling the actual effects of the fake wound, in your case: A gunshot. Don't worry, the effect will pass in about thirty more seconds, I just needed you desperate enough to skip the formalities and trust tests.

-You tricked me?

-In a way, but look at it as a needed sacrifice to get your daughter back. I'll return before the week ends.

-Will you get her safely? -asked Litt, a ray of hope illuminated his face.

-I will bring her back myself, just see that I get access, I'd hate to have to sneak around your hotel just to conclude our deal. I also suggest you take Josh to a doctor, that little device I placed inside the gun worked a little too well.

Vivian left the room, walking slowly and gracefully, she closed the door behind her and left the hotel. The good thing about being a woman in that kind of environment, and that kind of a mission, is that nobody looks twice at someone they believe to be an escort, also, they are not paying that much attention to a face when a pair of legs are visible.

The following night, Mr. Litt received a visit, this time there were no blood or bullets involved. This time, Vivian was wearing a green strapless dress, with green heels and eyeshadow to match, on her left hand, a dark green purse gave the perfect finish to her tasteful look. On her right hand, a teenage girl named Lisa, who had spent two months away from home, she was alright and happy to be back with his father, safe.

-This concludes our deal, keep her safe, I don't want to do the same job again -said Vivian, as she delivered the girl to her father.

-Thank you! -said Litt as he wrapped his arms around Lisa and started crying.

-When you get the chance, go by the alley behind your hotel, I'll be waiting there.

After Mr. Litt and Lisa talked for a bit, a physician was sent to check on her. Meanwhile, Mr. Litt joined Vivian at the alley, she was there with a man hanging from a pipe which came out of the building.

-I thought you'd want a word with him -said Vivian.

-Definitely, I've been waiting to ask him a few questions, even if his answers are now meaningless -he said with a vengeful smile.

-He is in pretty bad shape.

-Something tells me he will get better, before he gets worse, much worse.

-Very well, I shall leave you to it; I do not fancy walking around with all that money.

-I'll deal with him later; first, I would like to invite you a drink, after all, the end of every good deal should be celebrated. By the way: What happened to him? -he pointed at the man with his eyes.

-Someone beat him up; apparently your daughter was not his first victim; although she is the first one he did not kill. Did you know he had done that same thing ten times already? He asked for five million each time and just this once he returned his victim, by force of course. It is your choice how you deal with this, but someone else already did the math.

-What does that mean? -asked Litt, confused.

-Ten girls, for each one he got five million; that means he got fifty million in total, which means two broken bones for every girl, and one more for every million. There's a reason why he is not begging for mercy.

-I like those numbers, even if they don't cover his full debt, I will make the necessary adjustments.

-We should get that drink now, I'm sure you'd prefer to spend some time with Lisa first.

They both came back to the 14th floor and toasted with brandy, Lisa talked to Vivian for a while.

After two glasses, Vivian left the hotel; she now had enough money to carry out her plan and was not going to waste more time with his latest client. There were arrangements to be made, and she wished to set the wheels in motion as soon as possible.

As she was leaving the building, Lisa asked her father:

-Will we see her again dad? I liked her.

-Maybe, but don't concern yourself with that, sweetie, you've been through a lot and need to rest.

-Who is she? -the girl kept staring at the door Vivian had just walked through.

-A charming woman with a hundred surprises -replied her father.

Author - Armando Garcia (thumbnail)
Author - Armando Garcia
Armando Garcia is a writer and apprentice novelist. He often likes to play video-games when he can break the symbiosis between him and his computer, he also enjoys writing short stories as warm-up and still mourns the loss of his first novel draft to a virus he swore revenge against.