Posted by critmk and Shoot2Kill on December 20, 2000 at 07:50:45:
Chapter 2 - A New Recruit
by critmk
One Year After the Colcott Limo Massacre
Word about Susan had spread quickly over the underground network of the violent Animal Liberation Army: This beautiful young woman would do anything - ANYTHING - for the cause.
She had made fur her special concern, starting with flinging red paint on the wraps of fashionable women on 5th Avenue in New York and breaking into mink farms in Wisconsin to free the animals there. She made headlines in Toronto, where she marched into an exclusive shop and razor-slashed the face and breasts of a well-known pop diva as she was about to purchase a sable jacket.
None of this was lost on David, the elusive mastermind of the ALA. Through a series of coded, third-party messages, he summoned her to a room in a nondescript motel on a highway strip south of Chicago. In Susan, he just might have the ideal fourth recruit he wanted for his most dangerous and outrageously violent episode yet, something beyond even the slaughter of the Colbrook Cosmetic executives.
Susan entered the small, stuffy room and found herself surrounded by three women, all of them - like Susan - young, sexy, beautiful and cold-eyed.
Kay smiled at her enigmatically, rose and circled her, so closely that Susan could feel the brunette's breath on her neck. Susan stood, poised and stoic, as Kay began to feel her body all over - back, buttock, breasts, and finally up her short black skirt.
'No wire, no weapons - good,' Kay said, curtly. 'Good. Follow me.' She tapped twice and twice again on the door to an adjoining room. Susan heard it unlocked from the other side, then trailed Kay through the door.
David sat on the rumpled bed, wearing nothing but a pair of faded Levis. He dismissed Kay and told her to close the doors behind her. He looked Susan over, and liked what he saw: A woman of 21, dark complexion, very full lips framing a squarish mouth. Large, deep-set brown eyes, high cheekbones, long thick brown hair pulled straight back and falling between her shoulder blades. She was thin, even a little bony, but with pert, unexpectly large breasts that seemed to pop out of her ribcage as they pressed against her white, stretch-cotton blouse. Her straight, short black skirt revealed a lovely firm ass and smooth thighs and taut calves. High, spikey, two-strap mules made her look at once slutty and edgy. David guessed that she could kill someone with a thrusting kick of one of those heels. The thought caused a small, private smile and a little warmth in his crotch.
'How far are you willing to go? Would you suck my dick for the cause?'
Susan stared impassively into his eyes for a moment, then dropped to her knees and unzipped David's jeans. She licked it a few times, then took the whole of his penis into her mouth, slowly raising and lowering her head, gliding the shaft deep into her throat and out again, in and out until David unloaded. Never once did her eyes leave his. Susan swallowed, licked away the droplet at the corner of her mouth, zipped up the jeans and rose to her feet.
She crossed her arms and levelled a flat stare at the man on the bed. 'OK, David, that's enough bullshit. Who do you want me to kill?'
David smiled. 'My dear, the question is not whom, but how many? You, Caprice, Dominika and Kay are about to become internationally notorious. You are going to kill a stageful of fashion models at the Fall Fur and Leather show in New York next week. And you are going to get away with it.'
****
Alexandra Remington was not her real name. That would be Maureen Schmitz, from Moline, Ill. But since she came to New York 18 months ago, she was Alexa R., and she was now on the verge of her first season on the important runways of the New York fall shows. She began at noon with Fur and Leather, and then it was dashing from designer show to designer show all over Manhattan until one a.m. - when the parties would begin.
Alexa was just 19, and she was excited. She checked her make-up kit one more time to make sure she had everything. Then she took a moment to gaze into the three-way mirror, to enjoy the beauty that would, she was sure, bring her fame and fortune, and soon. Even in blocky black boots, slim-fit jeans and clingy white, long-sleeve tee - her mundane, get-around-town outfit - Alexa was a knockout: large, round, low-set breasts, a long, supple nexk, broad mouth, sparkling blue eyes, honey-blonde hair. She looked All-American in this outfit, but later, she knew, make-up and clothing would transform her into everything from a Eurotrash decadent to a Soho avant.
A knock at the apartment door disturbed her reverie. She figured it to be the impatient Limo driver and opened without checking through the peephole, a mistake no native New Yorker would make. With good reason.
Susan was standing in the hall. She wore a white wool suit with a tight, double-breasted jacket that showed a lick of cleavage. She confidently carried a black 9mm automatic with a huge silencer.
'Back up,' she said, coolly. Alexa did, with her mouth and eyes wide with shock and amazement; fear hadn't set in yet. Susan swung the door shut behind her. 'Into the bathroom.'
Alexa began to hyperventilate as she stumbled into her messy bathroom. She wanted to ask why this was happening, but the words couldn't get from her brain to her mouth. She barely comprehended when Susan said, calmly:
'Sorry about this, kid, but it has to be done. I need to take your place.'
Three quick shots - PHUT!PHUT!PHUT! - centre of the belly, just inside the nipple of the left breast, and the top of the sternum - punched Alexa over the bathtub and into the ceramic tile wall. Three cracked tiles and three trails of blood showed that the slugs had gone quite through the slim, tall model, whose butt now rested on the damp bottom of the tub. Her head lolled to the left and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
Susan stared at her for a moment, then punched a few numbers on her scrambled, secured digital phone. 'She's dead, David. Proceeding with plan.'
'Good, good, Susan. Describe her. Kay and I would like that.'
Susan, in a low, sensual voice, detailed her victim from black boots to blonde hair, lingering especially over the crimson-black hole and spreading bloodstain on Alexa's left breast. She listened impassively as David and Kay moaned with climactic pleasure. Then she snapped the phone shut, picked up Alexa's make-up kit and went down to the waiting Limo.
'You're a little late, aren't you?' said the driver, an attractive, young East Indian woman.
'No, I'm right on time,' Susan said. 'Everything is going according to plan.'
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