Chapter 3: A Close Call

I wake Karen at 7 P.M. and tell her to take a shower and get dressed. When she returns from the bathroom, she is dressed to kill: The light blue dress she wears is clinging to her slim figure, yet flows like water around her everytime she moves.

I had spent the afternoon gathering eqiupment and making preparations. We were going to move against Malloy tonight. When I had finished setting up everything, I went to a boutique in Beverly Hills to get some clothes for Karen. I knew the girl that works there from a strip club, where she used to shake her goods a few years back. She is almost as slender as Karen, so I convinced her to try on the dress for me. It was a knockout.

"You like what you see, big man?" She slowly lifts up her dress, moving her hands along her thighs. As the soft fabric climbs towards her hips, her slick twat comes into view.

"'You ever spend a single dollar on a pair of panties?" I ask her.

"Waste of good money." she replies curtly and lets the dress slide back down.

I light myself a cigarette and start to give her the details about tonights activities. I want to be absolutely sure, she knows what she has to do and makes no mistakes.

"Remember, I'll be on the other side of the street," I tell her in the end "and if the shit hits the fan, I can take him down. But the curtains must remain open. You make a mistake in there, you're on your own."

"I know, Max, but I'm no little girl" she replies angrily "and I sure know how to push a man's buttons."

"So I noticed," I hiss back at her "but do you know how to remain in control? And I mean absolute control."

Karen turns to look out of the window.

"I didn't think so." I conclude.

I know that she's tough and capable, but I also know that Malloy is a crazy prick. Anything can happen in this kind of situation and in any case it's her first assignment.

Yeah right, it's an assignment. She is going into that apartment with a precise objective. But she will have to be careful. Malloy might be crazy but he is also an extremely experienced player, who knows every trick. He's a bloodhound, able to smell a trap ten miles against the wind.

But I don't tell her that. I just throw her purse at her and pick up the duffel bag holding my gear.

"Let's move."

I have to pick the lock of the steel door in order to get onto the roof of the office building. When it finally opens, I open the door just enough to sneak outside. Dragging the bag behind me, I move towards the edge of the roof in a crawl. Can't risk being seen.

I open the bag and pull out the various parts of the sniper rifle and start assembling it. When I'm done, I mount the night scope and slowly lift myself up, looking over the low brick wall for the first time.

The view into Malloy's apartment would be perfect, if it weren't for the drawn curtains. I look at my watch. ETA is three minutes and Karen is supposed to make contact just before she enters the building. I pull out the receiver, switch it on and place the plug in my ear. From now on it's her call. She runs the show and I'm just a spectator.

"I'm going in." Karens voice is coming from my earplug and she sounds calm, professional. After a couple of minutes I can hear her ring a doorbell. The microfone embedded in her necklace is doing a good job, picking up event the faintest background noises. I flick a switch on the receiver and the tape starts rolling. This way I'll have hard evidence, that may be used to create leverage of one sort or another.

"Mrs. Delaney, what brings you here? What a surprise." I can hear Malloy's oily voice as clearly as if he were standing beside me. The sound brings back bad memories, flashes from the past, almost forgotten. Almost.

"Forgive me for intruding like this," Karen replies, sounding faintly nervous "I stopped by because of the conversation we had the other day? We were speaking about Max Winter, you remember?"

"Yes, of course. Please come inside. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"No, thank you. I just wanted to ask you, if you found out anything about him. The reason I ask, is that I saw him a short while ago and I think he had a gun."

I start to grin to myself. When in a desperate situation, always tell the truth - nobody's going to believe it.

Karen and Malloy chat about the alleged gun for a couple of moments, then I hear Karen's voice in my ear:"You must have a fantastic view up here, Mr. Major."

I can see that she is opening the curtains now and get in position, my legs spread on the concrete, the fiberglass butt of the rifle pressed against my cheek. Slowly I move the rifle, until I have the crosshairs centered on his chest. A headshot is a nice and clean thing - if it works. But I will have to shoot through the window pane, and the bullet will be deflected, if only slightly.

The conversation drifts away from the original subject, turning into small talk. Then Karen suddenly drops her purse.

"Oh, my god, I'm really clumsy today," she exclaims. Then she bends over and gives him a good view of her tight little ass. Even from a distance of more than 200 yards I can tell she's naked under the dress.

If Malloy doesn't pick up on this one, he's either become blind or senile over the years, neither of wich I expect. And I know that I'm right, when I hear him speak.

"Can I offer you a drink, Mrs. Delaney? A brandy, maybe?"

"Call me Karen, please." She says, her voice a little unsteady "A brandy would be nice."

I keep him in my sights, while he moves through the room, pouring drinks and making small talk. Karen is sitting on the sofa now, leaning into the cushions, crossing and uncrossing her legs. When Malloy sits down acroos from her, she shifts slightly and gives him a glimps of her thighs.

"Are you married, Mr. Major?" She asks him.

"No, I'm not. But if I remember well, you are, Karen."

"My husband is always away on business. I wouldn't exactly call that a marriage."

Her dress slides upwards an inch or two, as she crosses her legs again. Then she dips one finger into the glass, swirling the ice cubes. When she pulls out her finger and inserts it into her mouth, Malloy's jaw almost drops.

Karen puts down the glass and slowly raises her dress halfway to her hips. Then she slides forward, exposing her shaved pussy. Her fingers dip into the brandy again, only this time she applies the liquid to her pussy lips.

"Aaahh," she exclaims, as the alcohol burns its way into her flesh. Spreading her legs, she pinches her clit with two fingers, shuddering. She seems completely unaware of the man sitting across from her.

Karens fingers begin a slow dance along her wet lips, the constant movement almost hypnotic. Bit by bit her hand becomes quicker, darting between her pussy lips now, massaging her clit. Her fingers fly over her glistening skin, sometimes diving towards her asshole, sometimes rubbing her swollen clit with lightning speed.

Malloy is staring at her transfixed, completely and utterly unable to move.

She is rubbing her pussy with both hands now, her movements fast. As her tension builds, she pulls her lips apart with one hand and thrusts two fingers into her pussy. I can hear her moaning, grinding her teeth as she fights with her own flesh.

Her hands become faster, her movements angrier. She is ravaging her pussy with her fingers, her nails. One by one she pushes her fingers between her swollen lips, until her whole hand disappears. She then moves her hips, giving herself better access.

Karen starts to fist her pussy savagely. When she feels her climax building inside herself, she starts rubbing her clit furiously, her hips raised far above the sofa now. She pulls the other hand out of her pussy and inserts two fingers into her asshole

When she finally comes, she digs her fingernails hard into her soft flesh, pulling and scratching. Her liquids spurt from her steaming pussy onto the table and the carpet, as she twists and bucks on the sofa.

"Excuse me, Mr. Major, I think I need to go to the bathroom." Her voice is hoarse, barely controlled. He is still sitting in the armchair, thunderstruck. Then he points slowly towards the corridor. Now comes the important part. Karen's task is to place two microphones in his apartment, one in the receiver of his telephone and one in the living room. The telephone is in his study, the room next to the bathroom. I can see her going into the bathroom, closing the door behind herself.

Malloy suddenly gets up and I start to prepare myself, taking aim, breathing slowly. But he walks over to the kitchen, to fix himself another drink. He sure looks like he needs one.

The bathroom door opens and Karen peeks around the corner. When she doesn't see Malloy, she slips into the study with a couple of swift, silent motions. Even through the receiver I can't hear her movements.

"One set, one to go." Her voice whispers in my ear.

Karen reappears after seconds, closing the door and walking back into the living room. Malloy is standing near the window, sipping his drink, watching her every move.

"Why did you come here tonight, Karen? Just to talk about Max Winter?" The bastard isn't stupid, I'll give him that.

"That was the original idea. Did you find out something about him? You said you'd let me know."

"Well, you didn't have to put on a show, just for that." I can hear suspicion in his voice and if I'm honest, I can't blame him for it.

"It just came over me," she replies, her voice apologetic now "You shouldn't have stared at my ass like that."

"It sure is a nice ass." He remains silent for some time, trying to figure out how much to tell her.

"Max Winter is a man I knew a long time ago," he says at last "and he's also a very dangerous man. I would stay away from him as far as possible, if I were you."

"But what exactly is he?"

"Let's say he is a rogue agent. He is out of control. He might even kill somebody."

"My god," Karen exclaims "this is terrible. Aren't you going to go to the police with this?"

"I have some friends who will handle the affair." he replies curtly. Clearly he doesn't want to push the subject any further. But she isn't about to let up.

"Friends? What friends?"

"Let's say government officials. You're asking a lot of questions for somebody who's not involved in this kind of business." Again I brace myself, centering the crosshairs. I don't like the turn this conversation is taking.

"I'm sorry," Karen mumbles after a moment of silence "I didn't want to push you. It's just such a crazy story. Agents, killers and whatnot."

I can see Malloy relax visibly. He takes another sip of brandy. Karen slowly moves forward until she brushes against him, her hand touching his forearm.

"What can I do to make up for it?" she purrs.

Without waiting for an answer, she walks over to the window, then leans forward and steadies herself against the glass with one hand. Her other hand gradually lifts her dress over her ass and her legs spread. She then looks at him over her shoulder, waiting for him to move.

I start to curse, as Malloy moves in on her from behind. In this position it will be all but impossible to get a shot at him, if some bad stuff goes down. I can see him opening his fly and pulling out his hard cock, then without warning, he plunges into her.

When Malloy rams himself into Karen's pussy, I can hear her breath in sharply. Then he starts to fuck her hard, thrusting his rod deep into her tunnel. She starts to sigh as his movements are becoming faster and faster. One hand wanders down, slides between her legs and she starts to finger her clit. Her moans are getting louder and louder in my earplug, until I have to turn down the volume.

After several minutes, Malloy slows down. Then I see him pulling out his belt form his trousers. In alarm, I try to center my aim onto his sternum. I have the feeling, this whole situation is getting out of hand. With a swift movement, he slides the belt around her neck and pulls it tight. Karen is taken completely by surprise. Her hands fly towards her neck but Malloy pulls backwards, choking her hard.

I'm trying to get a shot at him, moving the rifle left and right, but Karen is struggeling now, blocking my view.

"Relax, it won't kill you," Malloy's voice is hoarse with sadistic pleasure "I think a slut like you will like it in the end."

He yanks the belt harder and Karen gives up her struggle, submitting herself to his torture. When she finally stands still, waiting for him to continue, I get my chance. Neither Karen nor Malloy are moving and her bowed head gives a clear view of his neck and head.

I make my decision.

Aiming carefully, I slow down my breathing rate, relaxing completely, becoming one with the weapon. Nothing exists but the target, clearly visible in the scope. My finger pulls the trigger slowly until I can feel the pressure point. Just a little further and...