Sidebars Book 2

Chapter 6

Chapter 6I had a seat by the emergency exit. The extra space gave me room to stretch out my legs, which I needed, since I must have pulled a muscle in my thigh the night before I crossed my feet at the ankles and rested my head against the back of my seat. The flight attendants would be coming around soon with the beverage service. Even if it hadn’t been barely midmorning, I would have restricted myself to a tomato juice on the rocks. Once in Boston, I’d need a clear head to accomplish the first mission my superior had assigned me as a special agent, and I had no intention of blowing it.

Blowing it…That brought to mind the talented rent boy who had f****d me into the mattress the night before. I smiled, remembering how much I’d enjoyed it.

I’d have to call him when I got this business at the Corporation’s New England headquarters squared away. Maybe we could have dinner when I got back to the Capital.

Maybe we could do more than that.

The night before had been everything I’d hoped—had been even more. Michael had always demanded silence when we had s*x, no matter where we were, whether it was his beat up old car, against the wall in the alley outside our favorite bar, or in our rooms at the Alpha Omega Chi frat house. Although we didn’t do it often, it was a lesson that stayed with me.

But Theo seemed to relish the sounds I made. He had pushed me so high that I hadn’t been able to contain the groans, and gasps, and whimpers of pleasure. He’d stroked my c**k and f****d my ass, and I’d come apart under him, biting the pillow in a futile attempt to muffle the sounds.

I had no doubt that if it weren’t for the fact my ass would have been grass if I’d missed that morning’s appointment with Mr. Vincent at the morgue, Theo would have flipped me over onto my back and run his tongue up and down my d**k before deep-throating me. Again.

I shifted, this time to ease the constriction of my trousers.

The flight attendant interrupted my reverie when he brought my tomato juice and a package of animal crackers. Reluctantly I set aside all thoughts of Theo.

I began getting myself into the proper frame of mind to deal with the problem in Boston. Once that was done, it would just be a matter of formatting a plan.

* * * *

The flight was only an hour and twenty minutes, and the attendants had no sooner gone through the cabin collecting plastic cups and wrappers than the pilot announced we’d be landing at Logan shortly.

Once we touched down, it was simply a matter of hailing a cab and giving him the address.

Near Boston Common was a very large, very old building. The New England headquarters of the Huntingdon Corporation were not housed there, although that was where I directed the driver. I paid the fare, gave him the correct tip so I wouldn’t be remembered for having tipped too little or too much, and casually crossed the street and entered the building.

I found an empty men’s room and went into a handicapped stall. After I took a piss and washed my hands, I put on a pair of black-framed glasses which would slightly alter my appearance, then opened the briefcase Whithers had given me. To avoid the possibility of leaving fingerprints behind, in case some over-zealous cop arrived on the scene before it had been gone over by in-house security, I put on a pair of latex gloves. I screwed the silencer onto the barrel of the gun, loaded it, and slid it into my pocket.

The briefcase was so ubiquitous I would have stood out without it, so rather than burying it at the bottom of the trash receptacle, I took it with me.

With that done, I made my way to an exit on the north side of the building, then continued north on Charles Street. I’d worked at Headquarters for about eight months before the powers that be decided I was suitable for the big leagues, and I made the transfer to Washington. But while I was there, I’d learned all the ins and outs, plus the idiosyncrasies of the security guards.

I glanced at my watch. If things hadn’t changed, the guard at this particular entrance would be taking his lunch break in about six minutes. He tended to be an impatient man, and if his relief didn’t show up on time, he headed for the cafeteria anyway.

It went like clockwork, and once inside, it was easy to blend with every other working stiff. I looked at the elevators, then at the door to the stairwell beside them, and almost whimpered.

I could just picture myself climbing those stairs to the seventy-first floor, where IT had its offices, and I straightened my shoulders and took the first elevator that arrived.

Funny thing about elevators. Everyone stood facing the front, and nobody met anybody’s eyes. I stood at the back of the car and watched everyone staring at the floor numbers that flashed by.

When the doors opened on sixty-nine, there were only a few other people still on. They got out with me but hurried off in different directions. I found the stairwell and jogged up the remaining two flights, then headed down the hall to a small office with John Jones stenciled on it. Most of the geeks just had cubicles, so this guy had to be pretty high up the food chain. It also explained how he could install the program without being hassled.

I didn’t knock, just turned the knob to let myself in.

The geek at the computer was hunched over the keyboard. He jerked nervously at the sound of the door closing, and his head shot up. He didn’t look more than twenty, although he was probably closer to my age. His skin had a sallow caste and was pocked with acne scars, and his puffy eyes were magnified behind coke bottle glasses.

“Can I—” His voice broke in a squeak as I twisted the lock, and he swallowed noisily and cleared his throat. “Can I help you?”

I rested a hip against his desk. “I dunno. Can you?”

He licked his lips. “Uh…I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Are you?” I shrugged as I took another pair of latex gloves from my pocket and pulled them on. “No problem. I do have a question for you, though. How much are you being paid to sabotage the Corporation’s computers? I’m sure selling out your employer in today’s market is worth more than thirty pieces of silver.”

“What? I don’t know…That’s a…Fuck you, man.” He reached for his phone, to call security, I supposed, but it was too late for him.

“Uh uh uh,” I chided as I rested my hand on the receiver. The movement revealed the Glock in its shoulder holster.

“Wait!” He jerked his hand away. “Don’t do anything you’re going to regret!”

“I never do. You’re the one with the problem.”

“What are you talking about? I haven’t done—” His eyes were on the Glock, and he never saw me reach for the cold pistol.

“You didn’t really think you’d get away with this, did you?”

“Away with what? I haven’t done anything!”

“Haven’t you?” I had the pistol out and pressed hard under his chin, forcing his head back.

“No! Please, no! I’ll tell you everything!” His eyes were wild with panic.

“Yeah?” I eased the pistol back. “Start talking then.”

He spilled his guts, naming names with abandon.

“Interesting. But how do I know you’re telling the truth?” Especially since one of the men he named was lying on a slab in the DC morgue.

“Proof! I’ve got proof!” My bored look told him I wasn’t buying it. “There’s a concealed space in the lower drawer of my filing cabinet.”

“Access it.”

He did, shaking so hard he dropped the papers a couple of times before thrusting them at me.

I glanced through them. They looked legitimate, and I tucked them into the briefcase.

“All right, sit down.”

“You—you’re going to leave now, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but I have one more thing to do.” The geek was a leftie. I forced his hand to hold the grip beneath mine and began to tighten our fingers on the trigger.

“No! Please, no! I’ve told you everything!”

Mr. Vincent hadn’t said anything about making him sweat, so I squeezed the trigger. There was a muffled ‘pop’. The top of his head exploded, and brain matter splattered all over the wall behind him. I let his hand fall, dropping the gun. An autopsy would pick up the grains of powder imbedded in his skin. I picked up his right hand, extended his forefinger, and began to tap out a message on his keyboard, watching as it appeared on the monitor.

When I was finished, I regarded it thoughtfully. I’ve betrayed those who trusted me, and I can’t live with myself anymore. I’m sorry. Yes, that should convince any outside authorities who might be called upon to look into this that it was simply a suicide. If it didn’t…Well, the Boston office would have to deal with it, unless Mr. Vincent ordered otherwise.

A sheet of paper was under the desk. Had the geek really been stupid enough to think I wouldn’t have noticed?

I put it in the briefcase, along with the used gloves, then checked my suit to make sure there were no stains on it, although I didn’t think that was likely with the angle of the pistol aiming away from me.

I unlocked the door and walked out of the little office, found the nearest staircase and went down three flights before exiting to take an elevator the rest of the way down. It never hurt to cover as many bases as possible, although I was certain no one had really seen me.

As I reversed my path and went south on Charles Street, I checked my watch. I had a couple of hours before my flight was scheduled to leave.

Although Theo had ironed my suit while I’d been in the shower, the shirt I was wearing was less than fresh. I’d need to start keeping a spare one in my office. Mr. Vincent did that, but my promotion had been so recent I hadn’t been able to take a page from his book just yet.

It would have been…intimate…to borrow one of Theo’s shirts after I’d showered, but even though we’d had s*x, we’d only just met, and I didn’t want to appear as if I expected more than I had a right to.

There was a little shop where Charles intersected Mt. Vernon Street. I should have enough cash to buy a shirt there; I didn’t want to use my credit card and leave a paper trail.

* * * *

Back on Boston Common, I removed the glasses and caught a cab to Logan. It would still be early by the time the jet landed in Washington.

I’d call Theo. If he didn’t have anything planned, I’d take him out to dinner tonight.

And maybe—if I spent the night with him—I wouldn’t have nightmares.

* * * *

What an absolutely amazing night. I sat at the breakfast table, my socked feet up on the other chair, and watched as Theo poured batter into the waffle iron.

I’d been right. No nightmares, but a whole lot of s*x.

The coffee he had brewed was hazelnut, freshly ground from beans he told me he’d bought from the Koffee Klatch. I took a sip and slid lower in my chair. There was a pleasurable ache deep in my ass, and my c**k was half hard. “You’re a wonder, Theo.”

He smiled at me over his shoulder and put a small pitcher of syrup into the microwave to warm. “Why? Because I like to cook?”

Because he was doing this for me, but I didn’t say that, just returned his smile and took another sip.

“I’m glad Vince changed the time of your meeting.”

I went very still. “I said nothing about who I have to meet.”

“No, but I’ve heard the way you address him. It had to be Vince.”

I didn’t respond to that aloud, but wondered if Mr. Vincent had ever considered recruiting the rent boy to the WBIS. Theo was nothing if not on the ball.

Mr. Vincent had called the night before, managing to catch us just after we’d returned to Theo’s apartment after a quiet dinner in a family-style restaurant. It had been too late in the day to make reservations for a fancy restaurant, so I’d thought we’d go to Ruby Tuesday, or someplace like that, which was just as well. I’d thought I’d have plenty of time to write up my report, get home to shower and change, and get to Theo’s place, but first the flight was held up because one of the passengers had a panic attack and tore out of the jet as if the hounds of hell were after her. We’d had to wait while her luggage was found and taken out of the cargo hold. Then, after we’d landed in Philadelphia, the pilot of the connecting flight refused to take the jet up because he wasn’t happy with some mechanical aspect of it. There were no other flights available, and so we were bused to DC.

By the time I arrived at Theo’s apartment I was forty-five minutes late and any reservations we’d had would have been lost.

Theo forgave me for keeping him waiting. I smiled to myself. Oh, boy, had he forgiven me!

We’d returned to his place after dinner, and he’d let me crowd him against a wall in the foyer. His thigh was high between my legs, and I’d ridden it hard, rubbing my c**k against it. I’d wanted this since he’d opened his door to let me in and I’d seen the way he was dressed.

Or maybe it was just him in those clothes. The preppy-look had never done anything for me before.

I’d imprisoned his hands by his head and was frantically biting at his mouth, almost on the verge of climaxing, when my cell phone rang.

I didn’t even think of not answering; it was the ringtone reserved solely for the WBIS. “Matheson,” I panted.

“Vincent.” f**k. “My office, tomorrow morning.” f**k, f**k, and more f**k!

“Tomorrow is Saturday, sir.” If my mind hadn’t been so fogged with lust, I never would have made such an obvious statement.

“Yeah. What’s your point?”

“No point, sir. Eight o’clock?” If he was calling at this time of night, it stood to reason he’d want an early meeting.

“Ah, Wills, no! I was gonna make you breakfast…” Theo was behind me, tugging my jacket off my shoulders, nipping at my throat. His palms were warm as he slid up and down my chest, and he began to unbutton my shirt.

“I’m sorry, Theo.” I covered the receiver. “Stop that! You want to get my ass…” I managed to swallow a groan.

“Yeah, tough guy. I want your ass.” He went back to sucking the skin on the side of my neck.

“Matheson.” My superior sounded impatient. Oh, Jesus, had he heard me? What was I thinking of? He was Mark Vincent. Of course he had heard me. “Make it ten.” He hung up, and I barely had time to shut my phone. I locked my knees, but it was touch and go as to whether I would remain standing when Theo unzipped my trousers, and had my c**k out of my shorts and in his mouth.

The phone fell out of my hand. Fortunately there was the wall behind me, and it kept me upright. This was too new, too special, and I knew I was going to come too soon. I squeezed my eyes shut.

I loved the intensity of the orgasm Theo had given me; it was the best s*x I’d ever had, and I wanted what Theo was making me feel.

But I was too close to coming, and I didn’t want to come yet. I began trying to extract the square root of some random number.

Abruptly, Theo pulled his mouth off my c**k. Breathless, I stared down at him as he knelt before me, his lips slightly swollen, my c**k glistening with precome and spit, and I moaned.

“Wills,” he growled, “what the f**k are you doing?”

“I…I was figuring out the square root of…of a number.”

“Why the f**k why?” He looked hurt.

“Didn’t…didn’t want to…to come too fast.”

His eyes glittered. “What number, Wills?”

“Four…four hundred seventy-four.”

His grin was rapacious. “Twenty-one point seventy-five. And change.” Theo swooped down and swallowed my c**k to the root. At the same time he reached past my balls to press against my anus, and I began coming so hard I almost passed out.

“f**k, Theo!” I groaned as I slid to the floor. “f**k!”

“Yeah, tough guy! You’d better believe I’m going to!”