K Street, Chapter 7

Jeff finds himself in Washington DC on business trying to close a big deal for his company where he meets up with Nancy again, the FBI agent he had fallen in love with in Atlanta nearly two years ago. Jeff is separated from his wife because of Nancy’s letter. Jeff continues to attract women without trying, some of them with deadly intentions. Jeff and Nancy soon find themselves in the center of intrigue with Israelis and Iranians feeling threatened by the impending deal, determined to kill the deal at any cost―even at the cost of Jeff’s life! The surprising twists will make the reader gasp, the love scenes will make the reader sigh.

Chapter 7 of K Street... Jeff gets shot at!

Friday, 10:48 PM: Archie’s

Jeff goes along with the men to Archie's, the strip club on K Street in downtown DC. He notices two suspicious men come into the club, and the minute Shawn leaves the table they come up and kidnap the Arabs!

 

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Thanks for taking time, and enjoy!
- Chris Lamela

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Author contact: Chris Lamela, chris@chrislamela.com, 707-566-8790 PST

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               K Street, Chapter 7

Friday, 10:48 PM: Archie’s

     Nancy pulled Jeff into a corner, they embraced for less than a minute in a deep passionate kiss, quick breathing, hands roaming over bodies, she pushed him back to the doorway straightening her clothes, “Goddam you, you drive me crazy! Now get out there and be sociable!”

     Jeff tilted his head, gazed at her, turned walking back into the big room. The piano player was just standing up reaching for her tip jar which looked nearly stuffed to the top, and not with one-dollar bills.

     “Wow, piano playing in DC is pretty profitable, huh?” he chided walking up to her.

     She was gathering her music as he smiled, “Thanks for the music, may I?” reaching into his pocket pulling out a twenty dollar bill leaning over to drop it into the tall clear glass flower vase that served as her tip jar.

     “Thank you,” she smiled. “You are with these guys?”

     “Not really with them…no…yeah, I guess I am. Does that mean that I have to say they're my friends?”

     She gathered up the last of her music laying it on the piano. “You are certainly friends with that pretty lady,” she smiled nodding toward Nancy.

     “Yeah, well, we have a little history, I guess,” realizing that he said too much, that he and Nancy were supposed to be strangers.

     “Well,” handing him her card, “in case you need another friend, give me a call.”

     Taking her card reading it, looking back to her. “You mean it?”

     “What do you think?” turning to the door walking out without so much as a glance at anyone else in the room, looking back over her shoulder with a smile at him.

     Jeff stood there watching this thin woman with such a nice swaying walk, admiring her through the window as she neared her small Toyota. He turned around, Nancy snatched the pianist’s card from his fingertips looking down at it.

     “Boy, you must be a little slut magnet, huh?”

     He tried to pull the card back but she held it away.

     “You already have a date, remember?”

     “Sunday night! What am I supposed to do until then?”

     “Archie’s,” she turned crisply away from him calling over her shoulder, “and your right hand!”

     Jeff stood there with a discouraged frown, noticed he was being waved at again by Shawn, he walked up to the group.

     “So, Jeff, I know we should probably have covered this all this morning, but these gentlemen want to know more about your company and your division.” They spent the next twenty minutes talking until Shawn perked up saying, “Okay, any last questions? No? Great, well I’ve arranged a limo to take us downtown, so everyone going should take a couple minutes to get ready, I will meet you,” he looked at his watch, “meet you on the porch at ten fifteen, will that work?”

     There were nods, a murmur of agreement, the men dispersed. Jeff walked up to Nancy, “Is there a bathroom upstairs, you’ve got a line going down here.”

     “Yes, follow me,” she walked to the stairs starting up, turning to signal Jeff to follow. He walked behind her up the stairs, there was a man standing outside a door in the upstairs hall. “Hmmm, looks like you will need the master bath. It’s over here.” He followed her through a door into a large bedroom, she pointed to a door, turned to sit on the bed.

     He walked into the bathroom deciding to piss with the door open for good luck! he thought to himself, finished, washed his hands, coming back out.

     “So is pissing with the door open supposed to be sexy?” He had a sudden flash that maybe women didn’t think that move all that provocative, he nodded timidly, “Don’t worry, it is. Don’t you remember in Atlanta? We always had the door open!” She smiled wistfully, “God I miss Atlanta, god I can hardly wait until Sunday night!” She leaned over to him, they kissed, he started to lean back onto the bed.

     “No, no, we can’t get into any trouble here! Come on, let’s get you to the strip club!” Pulling at him, a few seconds later they walked back downstairs. Jeff looked at his watch, walked out onto the front porch where Shawn, Amid, Hazim and one of the others from their little discussion clutch earlier were chatting. Both of the Arab men were without their head coverings, Amid had taken off his tie. Hazim had changed into more of western business-casual attire.

     “Ah, here he is!” Shawn turned to the street waving at the limo, “there’s our ride! Come on gents, the ladies await!”

     They walked out, climbed into the limousine with Jeff sandwiched between Amid and Hazim, Shawn, the other man sitting facing them.

     Amid turned to Jeff asking him where he was from again, Jeff told him from Seattle. Amid smiled saying that when he was young his parents took him and his sister up in the Space Needle. Jeff smiled saying that he had lived in Seattle for fifteen years, had never gone up. When Amid seemed to frown, Jeff suddenly worried he was somehow being disrespectful adding, “But now you have made me interested, I will take my whole family up when I get home!” The man seemed placated, smiled.

     Jeff felt the awkward silence that draped the back of the limo, he decided to take a chance to break through this. “I noticed your headwear earlier, I am not completely familiar with your custom, may I ask?”

     Hazim who hadn’t said a word directly to Jeff suddenly lit up, “Oh, yes, you saw us wearing an ogal head band and shumagg. Amid does not like to wear a thoub when visiting here.”

     “Thoub?” Jeff asked.

     Amid smiled, “The robe.” Jeff nodded to them both.

     “What is the tradition?”

     “The shumagg and gutrah, which is lighter in color, we wear that in the summer to show our modesty and honor to Allah.”

     “Neither of you are wearing them tonight, though.”

     They both grinned looking to the other, Hazim burst out laughing slapping his hands on his knees, “Oh, I don’t think Allah will be very happy about us tonight!” Everyone in the car laughed, Jeff feeling the mood lighten.

     Amid put his arm around Jeff pronouncing to everyone in the car, the driver even turning his head, “Shawn, you have found a very good man here! We are happy to do business with him! Where did you find this man?”

     Shawn gave a low-key thumbs-up to Jeff from hands in his lap along with a smiling nod.

     They soon came to Logan Circle, flowed onto Vermont Avenue, a few minutes later turned right onto K Street, a couple minutes after that the car pulled to the left curb in front of the club.

     Shawn leaned over giving the driver instructions Jeff didn’t hear, they all climbed out on the driver side, standing in front of Archie’s. There were crowds of people, mostly men pushing up and down the sidewalk. They could hear the barkers down the street from the lower-class joints cajoling men, “No cover charge after ten, gentlemen, just a two-drink minimum…”

     Jeff followed the group into Archie’s watching Shawn pull out a big wad of cash pointing around to his little entourage, handing the doorman money. In another minute they were seated at a big half-round table that was meant to seat eight so they had lots of elbow room.

     He looked across the bar, could see a low runway, maybe eight inches off the floor coming about twenty five feet from the back wall that was covered in drapes with a narrow strip of stage in front of the curtains. There was a brass pole near the end of the runway going from the runway to the ceiling. The lighting was muted, there was no disco ball like he saw at Magic Town in Atlanta, even though the music was loud it did not have the mind-splitting thumping like Magic Town.

     There was a spotlight shining on a beautiful white dancer who was stepping up and down off the runway making her way between the tables near the runway about twenty five feet from where Jeff sat. The dancer was definitely much classier than the dancers at Magic Town; the decorating of the whole place was much more muted, richer in design. There was no painting of a cartoon magician with a cartoon hat pulling out a cartoon rabbit like at Magic Town. Jeff laughed to himself thinking that in Atlanta he thought he was going to what he had called a rabbit hat place, Magic Town, right? Instead he ended up at the noisy bawdy strip club.

     No, here it was about upscale gentlemen. Jeff smiled remembering the differentiation his shuttle driver had told him about in Atlanta: strip clubs versus a gentleman’s club. He realized that he had never been to this kind of more upscale club. But then he had only ever been to two strip joints in his life anyway, the one in Denver and his infamous weekend at Magic Town in Atlanta.

     The waitress came by. Jeff was happy that he could actually hear her, though Shawn took the liberty of ordering drinks for everyone. Jeff leaned forward, “I want a Sam Adams!” Shawn nodded passing the instruction to the waitress.

     Jeff looked around the room admiring the mix of people, even a couple women in the mix thinking that maybe Nancy could have come after all. There was a long bar along the opposite wall on the other side of the runway, most of the chairs full with men actually turned away from the dancer! Now, that was either supreme restraint or blasé beyond definition.

     Jeff looked to the bar which was about forty feet from their table noticing two men, neatly dressed walking toward the bar, one giving a noticing glance at Jeff’s table. They went up to the bar sitting down on the tall stools, the second man turned around also looking at their table. It struck Jeff as odd that they had somehow singled out their table in particular to look at. Jeff could see a very distinctive scar on the first man who looked over at them. Even in the dim light he could see the deep scar, like an old knife wound that went from below is left ear almost to the point of his chin, they both turned away.

     He didn’t give it a second thought, drinks were set down in front of them, conversation starting up despite the loud music.

     The other man sitting at the table with them was named Tom something. He was an executive at Organization for Defense Strategies who asked Jeff a lot about his company and products, Jeff discovering that Tom was the CEO of ODS. The conversation drifted into more detailed questions about the technology. Jeff had no problem telling him that he had reached the line concerning what he was willing to disclose, especially in this environment. Tom was apologetic, Jeff said not to worry that maybe they could talk further next week, Tom said that would be fine.

     They sat and drank, a dancer occasionally coming up to their table, the men obligingly stuffing five dollar bills into her clothing from a stack on the table provided by Shawn.

     Jeff looked down at his watch, surprised to see it after midnight when Shawn excused himself to go the men’s room, standing up walking to the back of the club, disappearing through the men’s room door.

     The very second that door closed the two men that Jeff had noticed at the bar earlier stood up walking directly to their table, each coming around the table, their hands in their side coat pockets standing behind Amid and Hazim. One man leaned over to Amid’s right ear saying something to Amid who got a startled expression, he turned around to look up at the man. The man signaled the other standing behind Hazim who did the same routine. Jeff watched surprise jump to Hazim’s face.

     Jeff looked to Tom who had been watching the dance floor, suddenly turning his head realizing something was going on. Tom leaned to Amid, “Who are these guys, is everything okay?”

     Amid’s posture became very wooden, he leaned to Tom and Jeff, they leaned forward to hear him, “You must excuse us,” he stood up, Hazim did the same, they walked toward the front door with the two men following them.

     “What the hell?” Tom turned to Jeff.

     Jeff instinctively jumped up running to the door after the men. He came out looking left seeing Hazim being pushed into the back door of a large black car, Amid standing ready to be pushed in behind him, “Amid! Hazim!” Jeff yelled running toward the car pushing his way past people milling on the sidewalk. “Amid! Hazim!” the two other men stood intently over them.

     One of the men pulled a pistol from inside his coat PAP! a bullet hit the newspaper stand two feet from Jeff with a loud PLUNK! pieces of plastic scattering across the sidewalk, people screaming ducking down looking around them to see where the noise came from.

     “STOP!” Jeff screamed ducking between two cars next to him. He looked around to see Amid being shoved into the car, the gunman looking down the street aiming his gun toward Jeff seeing him peeking from behind a car, turned, jumped into the car, the car screeched away from the curb.

     Just then Shawn came running out of the club, Tom behind him, stood looking up and down the street seeing Jeff emerging from between two cars.

     “What the hell happened?” Shawn asked.

     Jeff gasped for breath.

     “They were kidnapped!”

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NOW READ THE NEXT CHAPTER IN

K STREET!

http://chrislamela.blogspot.com/2012/08/k-street-chapter-8.html

 

 

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K Street, Chapter 6

Jeff finds himself in Washington DC on business trying to close a big deal for his company where he meets up with Nancy again, the FBI agent he had fallen in love with in Atlanta nearly two years ago. Jeff is separated from his wife because of Nancy’s letter. Jeff continues to attract women without trying, some of them with deadly intentions. Jeff and Nancy soon find themselves in the center of intrigue with Israelis and Iranians feeling threatened by the impending deal, determined to kill the deal at any cost―even at the cost of Jeff’s life! The surprising twists will make the reader gasp, the love scenes will make the reader sigh.

Chapter 6 of K Street... Jeff's off to a strip club!

Friday, 8:09 PM: Takoma Park

Jeff goes to a party at Nancy and Shawn's place in Takoma Park. Jeff learns about Shawn's company and their role in this arms deal. Then Jeff gets talked into going along with the Arabs to a strip club!

 

 

If you enjoy this, please take time to LIKE this on Facebook!

Thanks for taking time, and enjoy!
- Chris Lamela

------------------------------------------------------------------

Author contact: Chris Lamela, chris@chrislamela.com, 707-566-8790 PST

---------------------------------------------------------------------

               K Street, Chapter 6

Friday, 8:09 PM: Takoma Park

     Jeff glanced at the clock on the mantle surprised to see it was already seven thirty. Nancy stood, stretched reaching her arm to him. He stood, turned to her.

     “You will see me tonight with Shawn, will you be okay with that?”

     He paused looking into her wonderful golden eyes nodding slowly.

     “I know what I said today on the phone, and goddam it Jeff, I mean it. But I really want to give this a chance with him, I need…well I need…I need you to be okay with it.”

     “Babe, there’s almost nothing I can do right now about anything. Technically I am still married, but I don’t even really know how married I am,” thinking about his wife’s words today. His thoughtful look made Nancy want to pull him into her right at that very moment, but she waited. “I mean, I don’t have much choice, do I?”

     She leaned forward kissing him gently on the lips. “Thank you.”

     A minute later they were in the blue Mustang driving amid the old brownstones of Georgetown heading toward Connecticut Avenue.

     “So let me ask you,” Jeff turned to Nancy, she glanced at him with her hands on the wheel, “you knew I was in town, that I was staying at the Hilton. You came to find me last night, didn’t you?”

     “We knew you always stay at that Hilton when you are in town, we knew you came in yesterday, so yeah, I knew where to find you.”

     “How did you know that I went to that singles mixer?”

     She laughed, “You didn’t notice me, but I was standing in the lobby when you came in. I was just getting ready to come up when you came out of the elevator going to the singles thing. I followed you, saw you talking to that pretty lady.”

     Shaking his head grinning, “Don’t worry, there was nothing special about her. We definitely did not connect. I don’t even think about her, really.” He turned to her, “And you knew that I was going to be in the meeting this morning, right?”

     “Look, I was really surprised when your name came up in all this. Man, was I surprised.” She drove quietly in thought, Jeff watching her. “I can’t tell you the mix of emotions when I saw your name. I thought it might be some kind of mistake, or maybe somebody else with the same name, but then I remembered the background work we did on you in Atlanta and I knew it was you.”

     He patted her on the right knee smiling, “Well, I don’t know what’s going to happen here, but I’ve got to tell you that not a day has gone by when I haven’t thought about you since Atlanta.” He glanced out the windows at the emerging city lights around them, turning back to her. “I guess like you said, though, you want me to work with you even though I am not sure how exactly. I guess like last time we will manage to do this somehow.”

     She smiled keeping her eyes on the road.

     They drove a little farther when Jeff’s concerned brow caught her attention, “Is everything alright?”

     “So Shawn. I’m a little confused about his role in this whole ODS thing. If they are such bad guys, isn’t he one of them?”

     “Best I know he doesn’t work for the organization. He is a consultant of sorts. His role is very passive, harmless really, best I can tell. He has a very extensive network of contacts in the U.S. and internationally. I believe he is paid to bring those contacts into the relationship then he bows out. He has no involvement with the deals.”

     “He seemed to take quite a leadership role in that meeting today, but there was something about payments. That doesn’t sound very passive.”

     “Yeah, I was a little surprised by that, but not sure what that all meant. It could just be his trying to facilitate the relationship.”

     Jeff listened to this having doubts about her explanation based on what he observed in the meeting, deciding to make a point to keep his eyes and ears open wide for the next few days. His whole purpose of being here for the next week was to bring home the payment for the equipment Versatec was selling. Six million dollars! The manufacturing process was well underway, he was concerned about some big-ticket cost commitments coming up in the next sixty days, so he was anxious to make sure this all went smoothly. Bringing home a six-million dollar check would definitely make this trip worth it. It was one thing to have the purchase order, it’s something else to make sure they are getting paid. He decided right then to leave all his questions about Shawn alone for now so he could focus on the business at hand.

     “The point is that you love him―sort of anyway…”

     “Yes, Jeff, I love him. Maybe not in the magical way that I feel about you, but I love him. I trust him. I think. I will make sure that I keep my eye on the ball here and not let my fawning over picket fences get in the way of figuring this thing all out, okay?”

     “Look, I’m not trying to cast any disparaging anythings at him, okay? I just want to know the truth about what’s going on, not feel like I’m being kept in the dark like I felt in Atlanta. That’s not too much to ask is it?”

     “No. I promise that I will be as open as I can.” She glanced at him seeing an uncertain face. “Look, we’re here!”

     They pulled up in front of a good-sized house, two stories finished in a white clapboard exterior. The home was older, Jeff guess it had been built before the big housing boom of the early fifties, maybe late forties. The front lawn was small, nicely trimmed with bushes along the neighbor’s side away from the driveway, trimmed with colorful flowers.

     “Nice,” Jeff commented, “though certainly not your Georgetown house.”

     “Nobody knows about Georgetown, so please be careful.” He nodded. “This was built in the early forties during the war so some of it is a bit sparse in design. But it’s a solid house. We’re just renting it now, but we have a purchase option in two years.”

     “How big?”

     “Three bedrooms, two-and-a-half bath, a little under two thousand square feet. The interior is really dated, you’ll see. We have all sorts of ideas what to do with it when we buy it. Yes,” she gave a coy smile, “I told you that I hope this one is for keeps!”

     Jeff was absolutely thoroughly confused, but just didn’t have the energy to comment.

     He followed her in. They could hear lots of voices, soft piano music, they approached the front door. She opened the door, Jeff tagging behind.

     Nancy walked in, instantly surrounded by men shaking her hand. She turned pointing to Jeff making introductions all around, he recognized Amid and Hazim who were both dressed as they were earlier, two others from the meeting that morning. He wished he’d paid more attention to their names. She gently pushed through them pulling on Jeff’s sleeve, up to a small portable bar set up in the living room.

     She ordered two Sam Adams which were served in glasses, they gave a little clink of glasses. He took a sip looking around the living room which had to be maybe thirty feet on a side, large for the size of the house. He could only guess that there was no family room, that the kitchen must be small to accommodate such a large room here. There was a baby grand piano in the other corner with a woman playing Summer Time singing softly. Her singing was nearly drowned out by the hum of voices in the room that echoed from the fourteen-foot ceiling, but Jeff could hear her voice that was almost too sweet for the song which he remembered coming from Janis Joplin with her raspy throat when he was a teenager.

     Shawn stepped up to Jeff giving him a warm handshake, asked if he’d had a chance at the hors d'oeuvres, signaling him to step over to a long serving table next to the bar. Jeff picked up a small plate selecting three different pieces, Shawn motioned to follow him into the next room.

     Jeff soon stood next to Shawn in the formal dining room that was a little quieter. “So how is your trip going so far? Did Nancy get you okay at your hotel?”

     “It’s been pretty easy so far, just learning more about your organization.”

     “I don’t work for the ODS, I thought you knew that.” Jeff shook his head, he held one of the small pieces of food to his mouth. “I am a consultant to the company.”

     “What do you consult?” Jeff’s mouth half-full of food.

     “I have been in the arms business all my life, since I left the Air Force twenty years ago. I worked for a couple companies like Versatec, one bigger, one smaller, soon I found that the relationships I was making was capital that I could use to grow my own business.”

     “You are just one guy in your company?”

     “No, there are eight of us, incorporated, a Delaware LLC.”

     Jeff laughed, “Delaware, why not DC?”

     “The cover in Delaware is superior to any other state, that’s why all the financial services companies and a whole bunch of others that don’t want people knowing too much about their business incorporate there.” Jeff chewed, nodding thoughtfully. “So we are kind of, how do we say it, the makers of relationships, facilitators really. Like this deal with Versatec. We will get ten percent.”

     “Not from Versatec,” Jeff frowned.

     Shawn laughed, “No from the buyers. We are the middleman in the transaction, it comes off the top before you ever see your money.”

     “So the comment you made about form of payment today?”

     “It’s pretty straightforward. There will be three payments for this transaction. The first will be to Versatec, I think for six million dollars, that right?” Jeff nodded. “The second will be to my company.”

     “That’s Armatec, right?”

     “Yes, our payment is for ten percent of the total transaction value which will make it eight hundred thousand.”

     “Ten percent of six million is not eight hundred thousand unless my math is broken.”

     Shawn gave a chuckle, “No, the third payment is for two million to ODS.”

     “So the transaction value is the payment to my company for the hardware plus the two million to ODS. Then eight hundred thousand to…” Jeff paused trying to remember the name of Shawn’s company.

     “Armatec, yes.”

     “ODS’ role in this is setting up all the export licenses? That’s a pretty steep price for something that’s kind of clerical, don’t you think?”

     “Trust me, it is hardly just clerical. There is a lot of maneuvering that goes on in these deals, a lot of needing to know the right people. ODS achieved getting the export licenses. It was all finished just this afternoon.” Shawn took a sip of his drink. “Then we turn around and do the same for the General Avatonics aircraft. That should be done by the end of next week.”

     “Wow, so this whole deal must be pretty lucrative.”

     “Yeah, hard work pulling it all together, but yeah, lots of money for everybody,” he smiled satisfied taking another drink from his glass.

     “And you are guaranteeing that this sale to Saudi Arabia is completely legal? I mean I’m not going to have men in trench coats wearing badges knocking at my door am I?”

     “No, that’s the beauty of how ODS is organized. You are guaranteed this is legal because its advisory board members are the people who do the approving!”

     Just then Nancy appeared at the door, “Shawn, you’re ignoring your guests. They have a request for entertainment tonight.”

     “Of course,” turning to Jeff, “excuse me, but we must attend to the customers, right?” Shawn walked back into the living room with all the company. Jeff looked through the door seeing even more people had arrived.

     “So are you two getting along?” Nancy asked offering Jeff a refreshed glass of beer, taking his old glass setting it on the table behind him.

     “Yeah, I guess. I learned a little more about the three-layer cake in this deal. Shawn’s company is getting quite a hefty fee for arranging all this.”

     “I know all the details.” She leaned forward lowering her voice, “We’ll talk about all this on Sunday.” She smiled, he could see into her gorgeous golden eyes with the little black flecks. “And thank you for taking time to get to know him. He’s a really nice guy, smart, too.”

     Jeff couldn’t help but feel like something wasn’t right, but didn’t have enough information to judge just then. Besides, all he wanted was his check so he could get the hell back to Seattle. He heard his name being called from the other room, they turned to walk together back into the party.

     “Jeff, come over here!” Shawn was waving at him. He stood next to Amid, Hazim and three other men. Jeff walked up to the group. Shawn introduced him around to the three men. “These guys want to go out tonight, they’d like you to come along.” Nancy walked up to the group just in time to hear this.

     “Where do they want to go?”

     Shawn spoke to the two Arab men in Arabic, Jeff was surprised to hear what sounded like fluency coming from Shawn. They conversed back and forth, he turned to the rest of the group. “They want to go to a club called Archie’s”

     “That’s a strip club on K Street,” Jeff frowned.

     Shawn spoke to the men again, they nodded. “Yes, that’s right. Seems we have, what do they call those Mormon’s who drink and smoke?”

     “Jack Mormons,” one of the other three men spoke up.

     “Yes, Jack Mormons,” Shawn repeated, “Well, we have Jack Muslims. Seems they never get to drink and party at home so when they are in the U.S. they want to take a break from certain, shall we say, somewhat restrictive tenants of home.”

     “And you want me to go along?”

     Shawn spoke to the men again in Arabic, they nodded smiling at Jeff.

     Jeff put up his hands, “No, no, no, I don’t do strip clubs. I had a bad experience once in one. I am vowed never to go again.”

     Shawn leaned forward to Jeff whispering, “Ah, come on, this is the schmoozing part of the business. We are their hosts, it is expected.” Shawn’s voice was consoling with an underlying tone of demanding, “It would be a dishonor to them to ignore this wish.”

     “I don’t know if I really―”

     Nancy pulled Jeff by the arm looking at the others, “Excuse us for a second,” pulling him back into the dining room.

     She turned to face him in a lowered voice, “Look I know you didn’t exactly have the best time of your life at Magic Town, and I am sure you are vowed never to step foot into another strip joint for the rest of your life―”

     “You got that right, never!”

     “But this whole thing is a lot more complicated than you know. We need these guys’ trust, getting them to feel comfortable by us willing to go out and play with them.”

     “So are you coming to Archie’s too?”

     She laughed, “Yeah, that would be quite a scene huh?”

     “Maybe you could dance again,” he said smiling remembering her performance at Magic Town coming out in her blonde wig when she pulled off her bikini bottom having all the men yell, “She’s not a blonde!”

     “I would do that if that’s what it takes,” she tried to keep a tight face, but couldn’t, her expression burst into a smile, “who knows, maybe I should get there before you guys to see if they’ll let me take a swing on the pole!” They both laughed, “But this is harmless, go have a couple drinks, stuff a few dollars into a bikini, let these guys enjoy themselves. Come on, what do you say?”

     Standing with a reluctant mope he realized that too much was stacked against him. “Okay,” leaning toward her speaking softly, “only if I get to see those non-blonde pubes again.”

     She pushed at him playfully, “Remember, I’m trying to do right with Shawn.” He stuck his lip out in an exaggerated pout. “Okay, private show for you only in your hotel room, one night together, but that’s it!”

     “When?”

     “God, I can’t believe I’m doing this! Sunday night, maybe, but we really should wait until Tuesday night after the deal is all done. Maybe Sunday night, okay?”

     “Not tomorrow night?”

     “Damn I wish,” she sighed, “but no. There is another event that he’s dragging me to. Let’s just stick with Sunday night, okay?”

     “God I wish I could kiss you right now.”

-----------------------------------------------

NOW READ THE NEXT CHAPTER IN

K STREET!

http://chrislamela.blogspot.com/2012/08/k-street-chapter-7.html

Also, if you enjoyed this, please give me a LIKE on Facebook to help spread the word! And thank you!

K Street, Chapter 5

Jeff finds himself in Washington DC on business trying to close a big deal for his company where he meets up with Nancy again, the FBI agent he had fallen in love with in Atlanta nearly two years ago. Jeff is separated from his wife because of Nancy’s letter. Jeff continues to attract women without trying, some of them with deadly intentions. Jeff and Nancy soon find themselves in the center of intrigue with Israelis and Iranians feeling threatened by the impending deal, determined to kill the deal at any cost―even at the cost of Jeff’s life! The surprising twists will make the reader gasp, the love scenes will make the reader sigh.

Chapter 5 of K Street... Nancy takes Jeff to her house in Georgetown!

Friday, 4:54 PM: Georgetown

Nancy called Jeff saying she loves him! She offers to take him to the party tonight, then tells him there's no special sparkle with Shawn. Then she takes him to her house in Georgetown!

If you enjoy this, please take time to LIKE this on Facebook!

Thanks for taking time, and enjoy!
- Chris Lamela

------------------------------------------------------------------

Author contact: Chris Lamela, chris@chrislamela.com, 707-566-8790 PST

---------------------------------------------------------------------

               K Street, Chapter 5

Friday, 4:54 PM: Georgetown

     It was Nancy saying I love you! Jeff had to do a double-take to figure out what he had just heard.

     “You love me?”

     “Yes, I love you, I love you!” She gasped, “Mister Jeff, I love you! It was all I could do not to tear your clothes off you in that singles thing at your hotel last night and do you right there on the floor in front of everyone there to show them how it’s done! If I had done that maybe I would be laying with you right now!”

     “Whoa, whoa, what brought all this on?” He could hear her catching her breath. “Nancy, I already knew this. Last night, at the door, remember?” She listened. “I knew that wasn’t the end. I don’t know how, I just knew.”

     “Good. Me too.”

     “So now that makes two of us, are we back in sync?”

     “Yes we are. Here’s some news. I told Shawn that I would offer to pick you up to drive you to the party tonight, a kind of courtesy, he said that was a good idea. That will give us a chance to talk so I can fill you in on what’s going on. You game?”

     “Yeah, that would be nice. That would be very nice.”

     “Great, I will pick you up in twenty minutes.”

     “Twenty minutes?” he looked at the clock, it was almost four thirty. “Isn’t this party at eight?”

     “Yes, three hours just might give me enough time to fill you in. So be ready there, mister, I will be there in twenty minutes.”

     Jeff flopped back onto the bed feeling exhausted by the train of phone calls, the explosion of I Love You echoing across the wires. He looked up seeing the image of the kissing faces again. He smiled noticing a third image of a face next to the kissing faces that appeared to be looking at the other two. His eyes squinched looking at the three images, the pair of faces lip-to-lip, the third a few inches away on the ceiling looking at the other two with an expression of mild concern, with the eyes like in a cartoon, slanted lines above them. He was afraid to blink his eyes for fear that the images would disappear as they had before. But they persisted, as though he was staring at some cryptic photograph or painting, like the ones you see in museums where you are supposed to stand back with fingers to chin extracting some deep meaning the photographer or artist tried to instill into their work.

     There were the rapid four knocks that Jeff heard so many times in Atlanta. He stood up stepping to the door holding his breath opening the door.

     “Can I come in?” Nancy asked timidly at the door looking around Jeff into the room.

     “I don’t know, there aren’t any naked little sluts in here for you to terrorize like you did in Atlanta,” he laughed, she walked through the opened door.

     She laughed, “Too bad, I really did enjoy that scene,” she reached out pulling him to her, their lips met in a long passionate kiss.

     He pushed her away gently, “Look we’re both just a little confused right now. I think maybe we should take it slow.” She poked out her bottom lip in a soft pout looking down, he bent his neck to look up into her eyes, he continued, “It’s been a really confusing day for me. It started out confusing and trust me, this afternoon hasn’t gotten any better.” She gave him a curious look, he ignored it, pulling her to sit on the bed, closing the door.

     He kneeled before her down holding her hands, “Are you in love with him?” She gave him a hesitant look, but he insisted, “I need to know, this is important to me.”

     There was a long pause. She said reflectively, “Do you remember your words in Atlanta. What was it, the zest? No it was…oh, yeah, that special sparkle. No special sparkle here. Honestly, I’m not sure at all. I told you then that I am not so sure what love even means.”

     He thought about the various conversations they had in Atlanta, especially that Monday morning before the big shoot-out in the bar and the frightening encounter with Perkins in that warehouse, with his little slut.

     “No special sparkle, not even sure,” he repeated her words.

     “Yeah, not really sure, and definitely no special sparkle.”

     Jeff felt hope rushing through his veins like hot oil had been poured into his heart. He was afraid to look down at his arms for fear he would see his arms bulging with red-hot lines, the heat coursing through his body.

     “I don’t know, this is all so complicated,” he said softly thinking if he should tell about his wife’s call today, but he was certain that would make it even more complicated. Sitting next to her on the bed he knew that either of them could toss the other back and that there would be no way they would be in any condition for a party at eight up in Takoma Park. He decided that one of them needed to be brave so he stood up turning to Nancy, “We should go, it sounds like you have a lot to tell me.”

     She stood up, they embraced again in a deep kiss, stood hugging each other until she finally pulled back. He could see tears streaming down her cheeks. He had not heard her crying, was surprised, mascara running down her cheeks. He had never even seen her wear mascara.

     “I thought I was done crying over you,” she sniffed wiping her nose on the back of her hand, “but I guess I still have a few tears left.”

     He reached around behind him, grabbed a box of tissues, she took two wiping her face and nose, “Thank you, I’m such a baby.”

     “Yes, but right now you’re my baby.”

     “That’s not helping me here,” she gave him a playful frown. She took the tissues stepping up to the bedroom mirror carefully wiping her eyes and cheeks.

     “Come on,” she said, “make sure to wear a nice coat, these people are pretty snotty.”

     He reached into the closet pulling out his favorite sport coat, the same brown and tan tweed coat that was identical to the congressman’s cologne-stinky coat in Atlanta.

     In a few minutes they were in Shonna’s car heading to Georgetown, a few minutes later they were driving into the garage opening at the street in front of a very big old brownstone house. She pulled in, the garage door closing behind them.

     “Come on, I want you to see the great house that Shonna gave to me.” He smiled remembering the story Nancy had told him about the old woman, Shonna, who Nancy took a room with and ended up inheriting this huge house. Nancy got out waiting for him at the front of the car, leading him by his left elbow upstairs, soon standing inside her house.

     Jeff was immediately drawn back into some past era with the ornate decorating and antiques in the large living room. “How big is the house?”

     “Seven bedrooms, this room, formal dining room, library, what they called a rumpus room which is like a family room, four bathrooms. It’s about forty-two hundred square feet.”

     “Wow,” he said, he sidled around the room. “This decorating…”

     “The entire house is exactly as she left it except for the master bedroom which kind of creeped me out, so I had it completely redone in modern.” She signaled to him, “Come on, let’s do a quick tour, then we have work to do.”

     Jeff frowned at the word work remembering what that word meant in Atlanta: danger.

     He followed behind her, she walked around the house pointing out various architectural nuances saying the house was originally built in the eighteen-nineties, was one of the first houses in all of Washington DC to have the modern invention of indoor plumbing. The house had the musty smell of an old grandmother’s house, though he never had a grandmother with a house as old or as nice as this. There was lots of period wallpaper, ornate antique lamps, she pointed to a couple of old gas lamps hanging on the walls saying they still worked.

     They went up the long arched staircase with its massive dark-finish oak banister, finally coming to the master bedroom. It was like walking into a modern house with its very stylish designs, all new bathroom that was small but efficiently laid out, tastefully decorated, very feminine.

     She saw Jeff staring at the large California King bed lost in thought.

     “I think we should go back downstairs,” she smiled pulling at his elbow, “time for a beer, I think.” He shook his head out of deep thought, turning to follow her.

     “So Shawn has never been here?”

     “He doesn’t even know this exists.”

     “So he has never slept in your bed?”

     “Oooh, listen to you! Jealous?” He shrugged. “Nobody has ever slept in that bed with me.” She smiled, him feeling a hint that maybe he might be the first.

     When they got to the kitchen she went to the refrigerator pulling out two Sam Adams, “It’s not Budweiser, but it’s beer.”

     “I don’t even like Budweiser, but that’s all they seemed to serve in Atlanta.”

     She popped the tops, putting the opener back into the drawer. “Well if you like different kinds of beers, DC is the place. It’s not Portland or anything like that with a microbrewery on every corner, but there’s some really good local ales if you like those.”

     He nodded taking a long draft from the bottle. “So can I ask you a question?”

     “Sure,” she replied taking a drink from her long-neck bottle.

     “In Atlanta, you used to always say ‘Yep’ to everything. I haven’t heard you say it once since I’ve been here.”

     She laughed taking another sip of her beer, “Yeah, that was kind of my trademark, wasn’t it?”

     He watched her inquisitively waiting for her answer.

     “Hearing ‘Yep’ come from Perkins when we were in that warehouse in Atlanta, having my ‘Yep’ thrown at me while he was holding a gun on us, I thought about it a lot after that.”

     “That was the last word you said to me when I saw you last in Seattle when you flew me back.”

     “Yeah, well that may be, come to think of it that may be the last time I ever said that word, my flippy little ‘Yep’, but Perkins definitely took the ‘Yep’ right out of me!”

     “Hey listen, Perkins almost took the heartbeat right out of me, so that makes perfect sense!” they clinked their bottles together with a laugh.

     “So what’s going on?”

     “Wait,” she turned back to the refrigerator grabbing two more Sam Adams and the opener back out of the drawer. “Come on, let’s go sit down.”

     They walked into the living room again. Jeff noticed the towering windows looking out into the street where he could see a car driving by, a couple walking by across the street. He looked around nervously trying to figure out how to set his beer bottle down when she reached into a drawer, frisbeed a coaster to him which he caught one-handed setting it down with his two bottles on it.

     “Good job!” she laughed, taking a long thoughtful sip. “You probably already have figured out some things.”

     “I think I left my Sherlock hat and pipe back in Atlanta. Honestly, I have put almost no brain power into this at all, so give me the full dump.”

     Nancy smiled coyly, saying softly, “First I just want to say that I am so happy to be working with you again. I know that I was pretty off the wall on the phone, you know me well enough to know that I am pretty confused about us―you and me―but I trust you. I think I trust me enough to know how to stay focused on the job at hand.”

    Jeff remembered all the craziness in Atlanta surrounded by people pointing guns, the constant racket of triggers being pulled back, guns pointed at him, at her, yet through that all they had managed to fall in love, enjoying that wonderful night in Norcross together.

     He sat back in his chair expectantly.

     “So let’s just get started with what we know, then we can try to figure out where to go from there.” She took a sip setting her bottle down. “I met Shawn about a year ago when I was assigned to investigate this Organization of Defense Strategy. It seems there have been some whispers about illegal arms shipments. That’s all I knew. We came across an arms shipment from Mission Technologies, paid them a little visit. They showed us export permits. Everything seemed on the up-and-up best we could tell. But it didn’t add up because they were lethal weapons that were banned for shipment to the country we found them in.”

     “What country?”

     “We captured them in Iraq during Desert Storm when we did some covert forays into the south and north of the country. Seems these missile launchers had been positioned for defense, but they couldn’t get the missiles, at least that we could find.” She took a long drink from her beer, set down the empty, he did the same. She popped open the next, tossing him the opener which he missed with one hand, bobbling it around managing to keep it from dropping.

     “Good job again!” They laughed. “So anyway, we put the squeeze on them figuring out that we had a loose thread. Got them to vouch for my bio which you heard.”

     He laughed, “Yes, that was quite impressive work to get nearly twenty years of experience, with what, six patents in eighteen months? Yes, very impressive!”

     She laughed, “Yeah, well, it got me the credentials to sit at that table today and a whole bunch of other tables.”

     “So what has this to do with me?”

     “Your company makes advanced components for unmanned aircraft, for UAV’s, unmanned aerial vehicles, the new drones. You make everything but the plane itself, right?” He nodded. “You make the guidance, avionics, all the video equipment, controls, antennas, and while you customize it for the two planes made by General Avatonics, it could be used on other planes.”

     “But we only ever ship our equipment to General Avatonics.”

     “Yes, but you ship spare parts and even whole systems as spares, right?”

     “Yeah,” he answered thoughtfully, “but it would take a lot of engineering to adapt our equipment to another UAV aircraft.”

     “Okay, let’s set that aside for now. The point is that we have found American military gear in places it doesn’t belong, including your company’s gear.” Jeff listened with a sudden concerned frown. “We traced that equipment back through a tortuous process of trying to find out how those missile launchers landed in Iraq, how your company’s gear ended up in Syria and we eventually uncovered―”

     “Wait don’t tell me, Organization for Defense Strategies. ODS. So you think that this so-called good organization with congressman and senators on its advisory board is actually doing arms dealing?”

     “There’s more to it. Those congressman and senators are not from some back-woods district sitting on schools committees in the House or in the Senate, these are the chairmen of the armed services committees, defense appropriations, defense oversight, just about every committee to do with anything related to defense. These guys are the ones who approve budgets, amend laws to permit sales of military gear, sit in secret sessions that permit all sorts of behind-the-scenes deals under the cover of the National Security Act.”

     “So they can bend the rules.”

     “More than that, they make the rules and then they bend them. They bend those rules so much that some of those rules look like a twisted-up piece of licorice. Plus there is no public record of any of it. None. All done in secret.”

     “Hey, look, I just found my Sherlock hat after all!” Jeff playfully reached into his pocket pretending to pull out an invisible hat that he pretended to put on, carefully adjusting it, “and my Meerschaum pipe, too!” his right hand holding a make-believe pipe. “So let me guess, the purchases by let’s say, two respectable-looking Arab gentlemen who are actually fronts for a friendly or not-so-friendly government who make their purchases directly from our buddies at ODS who lobby their advisory members who then do a little rule bending so ODS can arrange the export permits, shipping, and of course payment. And because the congressmen and senators are advisory board members they are paid for their services which are actually nothing more than bribes to turn the other eye while all the dirty business is done by ODS.”

     She gave a big smile, “Looks like my Sherlock is back!”

     “So is that the long-and-short of it? That doesn’t seem that hard to crack, why don’t you guys just go in and bust open the whole thing?”

     “When you have eighteen members of your congress involved in something like this you don’t just waltz in, start throwing names around. Careers will be ruined, this would have a really nasty impact on the administration. The President has been mostly briefed on this, he has specifically banned any such action. Our good mister Clinton says hands off without his explicit approval.”

     As she spoke he heard her little lisp again that he noticed in that stinky little coffee shop in Atlanta. Not a lisp really, just the slightest touch of her tongue to her teeth as she spoke. It gave her voice a unique character, made her voice sound just a little more charming. Of course, he knew, there is very little she could possibly do to charm him more than he is.

     “So what are you going to do?” he asked.

     “We are going to a nice little party tonight, Sunday you are invited to a team meeting. There you’ll find out more then we can figure out how you fit into all this.”

     “Oh, no, no, no. I don’t want to go through this again. You guys are going to expect some miracle like I did in Atlanta, I just don’t have the energy for it.”

     “Jeff, we had no expectations in Atlanta, it just happened that you were there and you were so in the groove.”

     “But I was completely wrong! I didn’t get the shooter right, nothing!”

     “You are the one who came up with your Sherlock plan to get the bad guys all in that bar together. Okay, maybe we didn’t mean for them all to murder each other. But you were also the one who saved our lives when you came up with your dog that didn’t bark in the night! It’s because of you that we figured out that the shooter wasn’t a pro, that he was reluctant. Knowing that is what saved our lives in that warehouse. You know it!”

     Jeff took a long thoughtful drink setting his bottle down with just an inch of beer left on the bottom. “I just don’t know. You know I’ll do it for you, but I won’t like it.”

     “You’ll come tonight then, keep your intuitive eyes and ears open, then you’ll come to the team meeting Sunday afternoon. So are you in?”

     He picked up his bottle finishing the last small swallow plunking it down with a determined smile.

     “Okay, yes. I’m in.”

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K STREET!

http://chrislamela.blogspot.com/2012/08/k-street-chapter-6.html

 

 

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