Sisters Ch. 20: Who Says Guys Won't Ask for Directions?


Posted by critmk on May 22, 2003 at 08:27:35:

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Sisters
a novel by critmk
Chapter 20: Who Says Guys Won’t Ask for Directions?

I wasn’t sure where to find Barbara within the part of the hotel reserved for Aerometrics Corp. Someone would have to help me with that.

I chose a spot around the corner from the elevators and waited. A minute later, the doors opened and a woman in her early 30s emerged. She wore a skimpy, white sleeveless pullover blouse and a leather mini. She carried the matching black leather jacket over her arm. Her hair was short and blond, darkened somewhat by the gel mousse that slicked it back and held the ends in a saucy flip. Her face – with its thin, low-set, downturned mouth, plucked eyebrows and catty brown eyes -- had a slightly cruel cast. Pearl teardrop earrings swung as she walked, each step announced by the impact of the long spikes of her of her steep, sexy tie shoes on the terrazzo floor. [Ellen30.jpg goes here.]

I fell in behind her, step for step. She didn’t know I was there until she unlocked her door and was pushed into into the room.

She stumbled, fell and called out a name – Marti! She shut up when I pressed the 9mm to her temple. The sound of a flushing toilet filled the silence.

“Who’s in there?”

“My assistant. Please don’t hurt her – she’s only 19.”

“Get up. I want to show you how serious I am.”

I yanked the woman to her feet and pushed her ahead into the spacious bathroom. We were treated to a vision of Barbie-doll perfection: a 5’8” teenager with wonderfully perky 36Cs. Her neat bush was as golden as her blond hair and bangs, which framed her blue eyes and cherry lips coyly and fell sensuously across her left breast. Nothing but a pair of black pumps and stayups stood between her and utter nakedness. [Marti19.jpg goes here.]

“Hi Ellen,” she mewled, in a voice that made you want to check for a pull-string in her back. “Did you bring him to play with us?”

I was holding a gun to Ellen’s temple when the girl asked that question. This twat’s death would be no loss to rocket science.

Marti squealed like Minnie Mouse when I shot her in the right thigh, in the center of the bare flesh between her pussy and the black band of stocking top. “Oh” she chirped, when the next bullet nailed her an inch to the left of the long, slender navel set high in her flat belly.

Thin, rapid streams of blood ran down across her pussy and merged with the blood coursing down her thigh. She grabbed the soap dish to her left to steady herself.

I could feel Ellen trembling with fear as I maintained my grip on her left arm.

“There, now, you’re upset. Come on, you can always find another Barbie doll to play with. Would help if I let you kiss her goodbye?”

Ellen’s eyes widened in fear and horror and she made a half-hearted attempt to pull away. I pushed her toward her wounded sex toy and firmed my voice: “I said kiss her goodbye.”

She did, tentatively at first, then with increasing passion. Suddenly, Ellen recoiled and spat into the sink. I saw the reason on Marti’s face; blood was dripping over the center of her pouty lower lip.

I pressed the barrel against the base of her left breast and fired. She stood erect and lifted her chin, as if snapping to attention. Heartblood gushed from the latest wound when I pulled the gun away. Her eyes went glassy and her chin sagged onto her left shoulder. She was dead, but wedged upright by the angle of her legs and the weak vacuum formed by naked butt against marble.

I looped a kick into the backs of her ankles and she crashed to the floor. Her limbs and neck formed acute angles as she bounced and tipped to her right, coming to rest with the side of her head pressed against the wall behind the toilet.

“Now, Ellen, where were we before we had to deal with this blond distraction? Ah, yes: You were going to draw a map of this part of the hotel, with notes to tell me where the checkpoints are. You’re going to help me get to Barbara Laufer.”