The computer programmer was dangerous, and he had disappeared. Divine Fury. Chapter 46
March 28, 2013
A VG Serial: Divine Fury
The tiny camera under the DVD player in the next room had been running for ten minutes when the couple came into the room. The Terminator heard the door slam shut. They didn’t waste any time. The girl maneuvered the government bureaucrat to the foot of the bed and had his face over her shoulder as they undressed each other. It was such a clear shot on the monitor that it occurred to the Terminator that he could probably enhance it to where he could see what kind of vegetables the poor jerk had eaten for dinner by what was still in his teeth.
The Terminator had added this assignment, which had nothing to do with the Harper campaign – his top priority – because he thought he could squeeze it in. And something told him he might need any extra cash he could raise quickly. If things went south, he would face a long dry period. This was what he called a “quick and dirty” with the emphasis on “quick” since almost everything he did had an element of dirt to it.
The unclothed gentleman next door worked for the Federal Drug Administration and was single-handedly blocking approval of a new drug in the never-ending fight against baldness. While he fondled the best looking woman he had ever kissed, much less bedded, he was simultaneously holding up more than $300 million a year in revenue expected to flow from the pockets of the hair-impaired.
When every stitch of clothing was on the floor, the girl turned him sideways and caressed him a couple of times, leaving enough room between them so that he was displayed to the camera in all his erect glory. Then, the girl turned toward the camera and winked.
The Terminator burst out laughing and covered his mouth so they wouldn’t hear him.
“This kid is hilarious,” he thought to himself. “And what a body.”
He was watching her atop the bureaucrat, employing a pelvic thrust with a ferocity that was a little scary when he received the text message. It was from his contact at the Royal Bahamian Hotel in Nassau. It said merely that Oscar Wilkins, the computer programmer, had disappeared. He hadn’t been seen for 48 hours.
“Dammit!” he thought. This was it then. Wilkins was off the reservation. He was probably already home. It was just a matter of time before he was spilling his guts to the authorities in a desperate attempt to get out of the California prison system before his 70th birthday. All this because some bastard he didn’t even know got carried away with his gun. The Terminator quickly ticked off the checklist in the drill he had carefully rehearsed – destroy his records, move any remaining liquid assets to a safe place and put himself beyond the reach of U.S. law enforcement. He figured he had 24 hours to be on a plane out of the country. The Terminator wouldn’t bother to contact any of his clients. Best to let his disappearance be shrouded in mystery and ambiguity, much like his operations. They would figure it out soon enough.
But first he had to wrap up this job. They were finished in the next room. The bureaucrat was dressing hurriedly. He was probably caught between the warm feeling that this might be luckiest night of his life and the vague worry that somehow it seemed too good to be true. In two days, he would know that the second instinct was the correct one. That’s when one of the Terminator’s associates would send him the video with the warning that it would be sent to his wife and made public on the Web unless a certain baldness drug became available to the public. The same associate would ensure that a pharmaceutical company’s generous fee made its way to the Terminator’s Cayman Island account.
What was her name anyway? He remembered “Karen” and a last name that started with a “V.” “Volker?” “Volkmann?” He recalled that she had completed most of a college degree in English lit and knew Spanish.
When she knocked on his door 15 minutes later, he was already referring to her in his mind as “Karen the Voluptuous.” She looked great with her clothes on, too. But he preferred to think of her as he’d seen her earlier – naked but lying in the tropical sun with him as they rubbed each other with suntan oil from head to toe – and every spot in between.
“Have you ever been to Belize?” he asked as he handed her an envelope of cash.
* * *
When Enzo Lee visited the Soldiers of Christ Ministry’s website again, he noticed that Rev. Jimmy Burgess was in the middle of a two-week West Coast tour. Starting in Vancouver, he’d hopped down the coast to Seattle, Tacoma and Portland. On Saturday night, he had a date with the faithful at the Bayshore Amphitheater in nearby Mountain View. Lee bought a ticket online. He was looking forward to seeing the famed televangelist in the flesh.
Chapters of the serial are published Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.
You can learn more about Divine Fury on Amazon.