14 comments/  15369 views/  3 favorites

Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 01

By: jezzaz



The Oroso islands described here really do exist. The real ones are smaller than the one described in here – I needed more space so I created a next one up. To see what the real ones look like, put orsosisland with a dot com into your browser and you'll find them.

Apologies for the delay on this. Real Life has intruded and my time for writing has been quite reduced. The sequel to Live from the game is next, then there is another Igrams coming real quick.

Edited by JonB1969






April Carlisle sat down in the expensive leather chair and gave her companion, Raphael Colson, the most enticing smile she knew how to give. She was dressed elegantly – cocktail dress, some jewelry, but she was very well turned out. Her hair was under control, and, for the first time in a long time, was her natural red color.

The Maitre 'D pushed her chair in and Raph sat down, after doing the half bob thing that men often do when women are seating – half standing up and half sitting, to show respect, but not push their chair out.

"You look...stunning," said Raph, breathlessly. 

It was all too bad. It was going to make what he had to do that much harder.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she whispered back. She took one of his hands across the small intimate table and squeezed it. "Let me be clear on one thing, Raph. I'm very very easy. For you, anyway. Take the pressure off. You are going to get lucky."

Raph eyes flicked away for a split second and in that instant April knew where this was going. She had microseconds to decide what she was going to do, and in that instant, she just decided 'to hell with it.'

"So, were you planning on telling me now or later?" She spoke in a conversational tone, taking a sip of water and waving off the wine waiter.

Raph's eyes blazed for a second and he looked directly into her eyes. She was non-threatening, but closed. And then he just shrugged and smiled ruefully.

"I dunno. Honestly, hadn't thought it all through, apart from the part where I was going to tell you we are done."

April sat back, playing with the water glass with both hands, and just looked at Raph, and then she said, "Can I ask why?"

"Do you really have to? April, I like you. You know it. I've used the L word twice so far, and all it got me was a blowjob. A great blowjob, to be fair, but that's it. We both know you won't use it back. And we both know you heard me, or you wouldn't have swallowed."

April's face didn't move a muscle. She wanted to see how he would do this.

"Right. From the look on your face, I can see that word isn't likely to come out of you anytime soon. The fact is, where are we going? Where is this relationship going? I wanted to take you to meet my mom, in Sacramento, and then you had this thing to do and I've not seen you in what is it, eight, nine weeks? I get the occasional call and email once in a while, and that's it. What the hell did you expect?"

Guilt trip, then. She put the water down and leaned forward.

"I expected you to be happy. When I'm here, I'm all yours. You know the deal. I explained all that when we first got together. I won't lie to you, but there is a lot I can't tell you. You knew that going in. That was the deal."

"Well, that deal might work when you are just casually dating, but we aren't. At least I'm not. I love you, April. I have since the moment I met you on that bus."

*****
They'd met on the rental bus at O'Hare airport. She'd just finished her assignment – dealing with a high court judge who'd been dumped by his wife for the court stenographer, of all people – and was on her way back to DC. She'd got on the rental bus back to the terminal and seen him immediately. He'd had the gumption to actually smile at her, genuinely, and she'd shivered. In her line of work, she saw all sorts of pick-ups and come on's, and this was unusual. Someone who put themselves out there and just smiled, opening themselves up. She decided such audacity needed to be rewarded and she'd smiled back, then sat down.

She was aware of him staring at her the whole time, and she didn't return his stares, but allowed a smile to play on her lips. If he was any good, he'd know what the smile meant, and he'd come after her. And sure enough, as they were standing in line at the United check-in desk, somehow he managed to be next to her.

She decided to have some fun and she suddenly turned to him and said, "Excuse me, do you have a smart phone?"

He looked at her, holding his ticket in his mouth, a garment bag over one shoulder, a roll on bag at his feet and another backpack – the kind with laptops in it – and, realizing he couldn't speak, he nodded. Then he put all the bags down and fished around in his pocket and handed her a brand new iPhone. He said, removed the ticket from his mouth. "You aren't going to call anywhere expensive are you?" His voice had a very sight southern twang.

She just smiled at him, got the camera app loaded and took a self picture – what the kids were calling a 'selfie' these days, and then handed the phone back to him.

"There," she said. "That should be enough for you, and it'll never go away. Now you can stare at that, instead."

They all shuffled forward as he looked at the picture and then hemmed and hawed and then he said, "No, I don't think that's enough. I need several. In different outfits. A bikini shot, for example. No, I think what's needed here is a number of dates, in different outfits, and we can take a picture at each one, and then I'll have a collection."

April actually laughed at that and said, "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you, slick?"

He spread his hands and said, "Honestly, what have I got to lose? You are about to get on a plane and fly out of my life, most likely. Might as well go for broke."

April considered for a moment then said, "Where is home?"

"D.C."

"Ok then, consider yourself reprieved. I live there too."

"Alrighty then!" he said, in the manner of Jim Carrey in Ace Ventura.

She raised an eyebrow and said, "Seriously?"

"Oh, you'll love my Jim Carey. I do a good Jack Nicholson too."

"Hmm. I can see why you aren't married."

The guy got a shocked and hurt expression on his face.

So she said, "I take it back. We can't date if you don't appreciate good movies."

[Insert a line of dialogue from Raphael here.]

"Oh, I appreciate them as much as the next girl, Mr...?" she waited for him to fill in the blank space and he did.

"Raph Colson. Raphael, if you are my mother. Which you aren't. Thankfully. Going on dates with her would be awkward. She's just not that cute any more."

"Well, Mr. Colson, I think I can safely say that I both like movies and I will not be emulating anyone's mother any time soon. I'm April, by the way."

The banter had gone on. They'd ended up on the same flight – not sitting next to each other, but the person she had sat next to had realized very quickly that Raph was interested in her, and offered to switch seats, and she got subjected to his sense of humor the entire way home, which wasn't the worst thing; he did make her laugh.

By the time they touched down, he had her number and a date, and she was wondering if she was really going to go through with it.

They'd dated eight times before she had to inform Ingrams of her status, and instigate the background check.

April worked for Ingrams & Associates, a semi secret private group that indulged in clandestine aid – usually of a sexual nature – to people who would never accept the help openly. They were available for hire for governments, agencies, large corporations; anyone who could afford their rather high rates. They worked behind the scenes, gathering profile information on the target and the situation, then they injected a field agent into the lives of the people who needed their help, to work behind the scenes and help repair the damage they were there to fix.

Usually they were hired by top level execs, looking to prop up a VP whose marriage had disintegrated and who was questioning their own position in life, or by agencies like the CIA, who were bringing in agents from longer term deep field assignments, who returned only to find their spouses pregnant with some one else's baby, or by governments, whose chief scientist had just discovered his own bi-sexuality and was completely confused about what to do about it, bearing in mind he had been married for twenty years, and was therefore ripe for blackmail.

The assignments were varied, and usually there was a large degree of investigative elements involved. Ingrams was secret, the field agents very well trained, and it completely fucked the social lives of the employees, and the company made no bones about it.

Generally, field agents lasted four to five years in the field before burn-out occurred, or, worse still, godhood was declared by the agent in question, who was so used to manipulating others around them, they couldn't do anything else.

Lies and deceit were the order of the day, and it made being part of normal society very difficult. April had been with Ingrams almost two years at this point, and was still a relative newbie. She had four operations under her belt and was feeling good about her performance in the last one, which, for once, had gone off without a hitch - and she'd met Raph in that high and decided to go for it. He was cute, he was smart, he made her laugh, why not?

She sat across from Dermot McDonald, Ingrams operations manager and second in command, at lunch one day and told him she was in a relationship and she needed them to do the first background check. Dermot was a large bluff man, with a kind face and a red nose, white hair in a tonsure [what is that?], and he still had some degree of his original Scottish accent, despite being in the US for almost thirty-five years now.

Ingrams had strict rules about relationships that developed while employed by them. What Ingrams did was more than flirting with the law. They broke it with an axe on occasion. Part of why they were so secretive was because of this, but it was also because the work they did, by definition, was clandestine.

They had rules for the field agents – no photos on the facebook page, no blogs, in short, be as off line as they could realistically be in the 21st century.

And if they dated, Ingrams had to know about it. There were three levels of relationship status, each with their own set of policies. The first was a casual relationship that was moving into exclusivity status. At that level, there was a positive vetting of the prospective partner – Ingrams basically reviewed the public knowledge of a person's life and attempted to prove that what they said about themselves was, in fact, so. Where they went to school, where they lived, who their family was and so on.

When told of this stage, April had been surprised to learn that almost twenty percent of prospective partners failed this part of the process, to a greater or lesser degree. As Doctor House says, "everybody lies."

The second stage was a declaration of intent – a marriage proposal, or moving in together. At this point, they'd do a deeper vet of the proposed spouse, looking for all the dirt that most people like to keep quiet. The bitter ex's, the drug charge, the illegitimate child in the shadows.

The third stage was an ongoing every other year vet – looking for changes in the status.

Ingrams did all this to protect everyone --hemselves, the field agent, their charges. What they did more than skirted the law and a field agent could find themselves compromised easily due to blackmail of a spouse or if the spouse himself either discovered what went on at Ingrams, or had his own agenda.

It was a shitty thing to do to any employee, but it was clearly indicated before an new worker came on board; this is what we do and you know about it and accept it.

What was more interesting was that even though Ingrams told their employees what they were doing, they did not share the results with them, unless the person they were dating was considered to be a direct threat to Ingrams, and the relationship needed to be terminated. It was considered to be a huge invasion of privacy and while they had to do it, the employee would not be given all the inside scoop on their partner that Ingrams found. It was thought to be too much of an unbalancing situation, where one partner would know everything about the other, but not vice versa.

So far, in all the years that Ingrams had existed, they had only once asked an employee to break off a relationship, and that was because they'd discovered that the man in question was in actual fact Naval Intelligence. The Navy knew of Ingrams. All the major agencies did, and they were obviously attempting to penetrate it via the Captain, and he was succeeding. Ingrams needed to send a message back, and the employee was only too happy to send that message, once she realized she was being used.

In fact, Ingrams had only had to do a second background review six times in their entire history – one had failed outright and the others, while passing, the relationship had failed either just before the intended betrothal, or just past it.

Ingrams even had a specific set of protocols in place for what operatives could tell their intended. While it was a nice idea that the spouses be brought in and have everything explained to them, as a company it was just too dangerous of a possibility. What person could handle suddenly finding out that their intended was a trained sex counselor, and was often out in the field, applying those skills to try and bring resolution to other people's relationships? What relationship could survive that? Worse still, what might happen once that spouse knew what went on at Ingrams? Ingrams would have no leverage, and they'd have one pissed off spouse spoiling to get back at them. As a company it made no sense for anyone to be told the realities of what Ingrams did – and they just had to trust their field agents would understand that and not reveal themselves without authorization.

When asked, if a field agent was not on an operation or had a cover identity constructed, they informed whomever was asking that they were therapists, working with high profile clients, and as such they wouldn't talk about it – therapist / client confidentiality. And as such, it wasn't a lie – Ingrams, like most other clandestine organizations, knew that the best lies were the ones made of some truth. Some degree of truth was necessary here, and as such, what they revealed was enough to deter most people from going too much further. As such, April had explained to Raph that she was a psychologist and therapist, and that she couldn't talk about it much, both because of who some of the clients were, and also because discussing it just wasn't either legal or right. Raph had accepted it, or seemed to.

It was common knowledge that traditional relationships were all but impossible to maintain, given what the field agents were required to do as part of their duties – quite apart from the sexual aspect, agents were expected to be self sufficient in the field and that also meant they couldn't maintain any external relationships. You can't pretend to be a secretary named Martha Jones if your boyfriend was calling the office and calling you April. However, almost all agents tried at least once; it's human nature to want the companionship of another. From where Dermot was sitting, hearing April announce she was in a relationship and needing to make them aware of it, was his first indication that she was hitting this wall.

He took a sip of his diet coke, looked around from where they were sitting in the brew pub April had selected, and said, "Ok. I understand. I'm going to tell you this now April and I don't expect you to believe me, nor do I expect to change your mind, but I've got to say it, if only for my own conscience. This won't work out. You might want to think about doing yourself a favor and walking away now, because it'll end badly. These situations always do. Now I don't expect you to understand that; you'll need to go through this and come out the other end with more respect for the emotions. But just know I'm looking out for you and I'll – well, we'll all be there for you at the other end.

"Now, give me his details and I'll get started. Enjoy it while you can."

April had sat there and looked at him and not known what the best response was. She knew he was just looking out for her, but she also considered it too much. It was too much judgment. Too much parental advice. It was just too much. She was going to do it, she was going to prove them wrong and she was damn well going to enjoy it in the process. In the end she just smiled brightly, masking her thought processes and gave him the details she had.

A week later, while she was working operations for a mission Megan was on, Dermot stuck his head around the door of the operations room – a large room with monitors and computers and people looking busy all the time – and said, "April, got the background. Go ahead. He's exactly what you think he is. One manager of a mall jewelry store, nothing more."

Dermot didn't even wait till she responded – she was squinting into the light from the doorway after being confined to the dim light of the operations room; he just popped his head around the door frame and was gone.

*****
That had been five months ago. And now, here they were, having dinner after April had just returned from an operation in Seattle, where she'd been second string to Desiree Richardson, who had been the principle player in their little drama. April had been required to concentrate on pulling a twenty one year old out of his depression, following the revelations that his mother had been abusing him for years. His mother had attempted suicide, after his father had discovered what was going on; how she's had a sexual relationship with her son for the past three years. This kind of situation was more common than was believed and as such, they would have been left to fend for themselves, had not the father in this situation not been the lieutenant governor of the great state of Washington. What was worse, what was not commonly known was that the actual governor was a figure piece – someone who looked good that people could vote for, but was actually utterly incompetent. His team knew it, he knew it and it was the lieutenant governor who actually did all the work.

When this situation was discovered, there was frantic scrambling to figure out what to do, and Ingrams had been approached.

The task had taken seven weeks to get everyone back on an even keel, and she'd been out of touch for quite some time. And that's when the rubber had met the road.

This was the second time she'd had to leave Raph, with barely any explanation. She'd made the decision that she wasn't going to lie to Raph barefacedly – she may omit a lot of what she should have told him, but she wasn't going to make things up, unless absolutely forced to.

When she left the first time, for a five-week operation, she'd just told him she had a high profile client that wanted to be treated in his own home. She couldn't say more; she just had to go – this is what her job was.

The second time, in Seattle, she'd said virtually the same thing. She could see Raph was less accepting the second time and she knew she'd have her work cut out to make him happy on her return but she didn't mind that. She knew how, and she really did enjoy making him happy. It gave her something she didn't get from the professional engagements she had. She knew she wasn't in love, but she knew she was getting more from this relationship than she was putting into it. She also knew she had to do something about that. Balance was very important to April and she knew she was short changing Raph.



Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 01



When she'd gotten back, she'd made a vow to herself to make it up to Raph, to give him a few nights he'd never forget. She was even considering asking Megan to join in. And then they'd sat down for dinner and she could see it all coming to an end.

"Where do you see this going, April?" 

She was sitting there, trying to decide how to answer.

"I don't know. Somewhere, I don't know. I mean, we are happy, right? What we have now?"

"See, that's just it. You won't look to the future because you know there isn't one. You go off on your secret little jaunts and do god knows what – April, you are a therapist, not the CIA. What are you doing for eight weeks? Where the hell were you? I understand there's stuff you can't tell me, but to get nothing out of you for weeks at a time? How am I supposed to deal with that? What happens if we get married? Am I supposed to have a wife who just vanishes for months at a time? What if we have kids? What then, April?"

April knew she had no answers. She'd deliberately not thought about this, or when she had, she kidded herself that the relationship would just chug along, as it had done, and everyone would be happy. This was her job. This is what she did. Why couldn't he accept that? When she was here, she was his, unreservedly. When she was gone, well, she had things to do. It was what her job required. He would never know, so what difference did it make?

But it did, and she knew it.

"Kids? You've got us married and with kids, and we've only known each other six months, Raph?"

"No, we've known each other three and a half months April. You've been gone for the rest of the time."

She knew it was done. She wasn't going to change her job. She liked Raph, but in a show down between her job and him, he was going to lose. And she knew that she'd have to do it, just like Dermot had said.

She took a deep breath and decided that she had to let him off the hook easy. This could go quite nasty and she'd rather it ended in a way that he didn't absolutely hate her.

"OK. I understand. I think you need more than I can give you right now Raph. I'm sorry, I just...I don't think I can give you what you need. I guess I was just hoping we'd maintain the status quo, but I can see why you want more. I get that for you, a relationship is a series of levels and you want to progress to the ultimate one. For me, it's more of a background thing. It's what it is, and it's there to support me in my goals and things I want to do." She acknowledged the elephant in the room.

"See, even that April, it's vague and unclear. 'Goals'? 'Things I want to do'? What are those? You've never shared anything like that with me. I have no idea what your goals are, what you want to do. We don't talk about stuff like that. And I don't think we can. I think that whatever it is that you do won't let you. I'm seriously starting to think you have some second life that needs to be kept separate from the first, the way you behave."

That alarmed April a bit, since he was pretty much spot on.

"So what do you suggest?" she asked, trying to pull the conversation back on track. If he was going to break up with her, might as well lance it now.

"I dunno April. What do you suggest?"

She took a sip of her drink and said, "Mexican standoff, then?"

He laughed. It was a phrase with them – anytime she wanted to do something and he didn't, and vice versa, they had called it a Mexican Standoff. She'd even bought them big mustaches and sombreros one weekend and dressed up while making breakfast.

"I guess. I suppose I came here looking to see if there was a higher direction for this relationship to go in. You're right, I do want more. You are awesome and I want more of it. But from your demeanor and reaction, I don't think it's on the cards, is it?"

April bit her lip. "Raph, you are such a great guy. You really are. But this is what I do, and I love it. I trained hard for it, and now I have it. We don't have the kind of relationship that will enable me to give it up right now. I do see that this is mostly my fault though; I just wanted to say that. We can't have the relationship you want because it would mean me giving up what I do, and I'm just not there yet – in terms of our relationship, nor doing what I set out to do. I've only been at this eighteen months and I'm just getting into my groove. I see the catch 22 of this, but I don't really know what to do about it. I'm sorry."

Raph sighed and his eyes dropped to the table. 

"I figured. Well, worth trying. No hard feelings April, ok? I hope that one day you find what you are looking for."

He held out his hand over the table to April who just looked at it. She pushed her chair back, got up and came round the table and grabbed Raph, pulled him and up and crushed him to her, kissing him hard.

"You are very special, Raph. There will always be a place in my heart for you. I'm here if you need me."

Raph hugged April tight, then gently disengaged himself, stepped back and said, "We could have had it all. I just don't think you are ready for that. Be happy April. See you."

And with that, he turned and left, not looking back. April sank back into her seat and then the tears did flow.


*****
A week later, April was sitting in her office, finishing up the expense reporting from the last mission, when Dermot knocked on the doorframe. 

"Knock knock," he said, smiling in on her.

"Hey Dermot. What's up?" said April, looking up from the mess of receipts on her desk.

"Got a live one for you." He held up a folder bulging with documents. 

April sighed internally. Since her break up with Raph, she just didn't seem to have the same zest for life. She knew she'd made the right decision – she simply didn't have the feelings for him that he had for her - but in doing so, it had made her face some realities in a way she'd never had to before. 

It's one thing to sit in a meeting and be told, "This will destroy your social life", while you are still very excited about the opportunity being placed in front of you. In that situation you generally aren't thinking about what you are giving up, just what you are gaining. But eighteen months later, when the true cost of what you have given up is made clear to you, it sucks more than most will admit.

April knew she was feeling sorry for herself, and she also knew that perhaps a new mission was what she needed. If she did have to give up a normal relationship, perhaps what she needed was a reminder of what she gave it up for.

"OK!" said April, artificially brightly. She could see Dermot pick up on it as a cloud covered his face.

"You ok? I know that break up must have been tough..."

"Yeah, I'll be fine. You were right. I just...need something to focus on, you know? What have you got for me?"

Dermot came into the room and sat down in the chair opposite on the visitor side of the desk. He put the folder down on the desk and pushed it towards her, trying to avoid all the little clumps of receipts April had arranged.

"Interesting one. South Pacific seas. Know much about Fiji?" 

April made a face. "Coconuts? Diving? A volcano?"

Dermot laughed and said, "Not far off it. But I'm jumping ahead of myself right now. You are going to need a bikini for this one, but let me get back to the beginning. Ever heard of Northwestern State Bank?"

April thought hard. "No, I don't think so. Should I?"

"No real reason you should. They are based around the Pacific Northwest – Seattle, Portland and so on. They were originally a merchant bank who then got into regular banking when a bunch of banks went bust in 2010 in that area. They have about sixty or so locations now, which is fairly big. Lots of expansion in the past two years. Anyway, they do this...thing. It's a reward thing for the managers of the top eight performing branches. They've been doing it for the past four years. 

"The CEO and majority owner of Northwestern has his own private island down in the south pacific. It's anchored in a bay at Kadavu Island, which is just south of Fiji. So once a year, he lends it out to the top eight performers to go down and spend a week soaking up the rays, do some snorkeling and so on. The island itself – it's built by an Austrian company called Osoros – has four levels, houses eight luxury cabins and five cabins for the staff. There's a cook, a butler, two maids and a masseuse on staff. This thing is awesome – the details are in the packet. It's got solar power cells all over it, batteries in the bottom for storage, a backup generator – it's even got its own desalination plant built in, so there is no lack of fresh water."

April pursed her lips, sitting back and listening to the details. "Sounds awesome. What's our involvement?"

"I'm getting to it. So basically, this get away has pretty much devolved into a sex free for all over the past couple of years. All the managers there know what goes on, and there's fierce competition to get on the island."

"Ahhh," said April, starting to see the angle. "But ok, what are we fixing? What is going wrong?"

"It's complicated. There are two things. The first is that several of the marriages of people who've been on these jaunts have disintegrated. I mean, to a certain extent, you go to a sex orgy on a private island and you aren't prepared, well, that's to be expected. But coupled with that, several of the branches of this bank have been robbed over the past two years. There's a large overlap of those banks being robbed and those where marriages of the managers have disintegrated. The CEO - Tom Patterson – is convinced there is something going on at the event at his Island in connection with the marriages breaking up and banks being robbed. He's convinced that these are inside jobs – all of the robberies went smoothly, the robbers knew exactly where everything was, how much money was on hand and so on."

April was slightly taken aback. She said, "Well I guess I can buy that, but this isn't really us, is it? We fix relationships, not hunt down bank robbers."

"True," replied Dermot, "it's kind of complicated though."

"Where did this come from? Who's hiring us?"

"The CEO I mentioned, Tom Patterson. But it's come to us via Pinkerton."

There was silence as they both considered the impact of this statement.

Pinkerton, the famous private detective agency, knew of Ingrams existence, of course. They could hardly fail to. However there was a distinct lack of inter agency good will flowing from Pinkerton to Ingrams. Pinkerton regarded themselves as the premier agency and looked down on Ingrams as amateur bumblers. There was no love lost between the two agencies, and every time they had encountered each other professionally, things had not gone smoothly or well.

The first time they had come across each other in the middle of a mission had been when April's friend Megan was working a case, where the wife of a prominent author was cheating, but in the course of her affair, no one involved could figure out who with – much less the wife. The man always used a different mask. Eventually, after investigating the situation, Megan had settled on a particularly new friend of the husband, who was acting suspiciously and whose background story did not check out.

After picking him up and pumping him – literally – for information, it became clear that the individual concerned was, in fact, a Pinkerton agent. While Ingrams had been engaged by the husband's management team, Pinkerton had been engaged by the man's publisher. Both working on the same case, but independently.

After some back and forth, the two agencies had agreed to work together, only for Megan to find that the agent she had encountered was not overburdened with experience, smarts or basic field craft ability. In the end, Megan had figured out who the mysterious interloper was – in fact it was three people, swapping in and out, using a new pheromone spray to induce a lack of awareness in the wife – and she was forced, at the end, to turn them over to the Pinkerton agent.

Pinkerton had taken all the credit, not mentioned Ingrams at all, and Megan was pissed beyond belief. As Dermot had said to her, "You knew we'd never get credit. You know we are secret. It's a pisser, but get over it."

About the only revenge Megan could extract was that she managed to slip into almost every communication with anyone from Pinkerton the fact that the agent – one Jason Conrad – had a very small penis and was possibly one of the worst lovers she'd ever had. It was all she could do, but she did it with gusto.

"Oh," said April. 

She was about to open her mouth to ask more, when Dermot said, "Well, to be honest, I think Pinkerton is better for this job, but it's not within their jurisdiction – they are purely US based. They are above board and have to get all sorts of clearances, and us...well, we don't. They can't do anything about it if they do discover what is going on – not that we can do a lot either, but, in terms of the skills required to uncover what is going on, for this specific situation, I think we are probably not a bad group to come to.

"But, and I have to say this upfront, I am a little uncomfortable with this. You'll be out of touch, in the South Pacific. There won't be any help around you – we'll put a support team on Fiji, but it's at least three hours away. And these are people who rob banks. They haven't hurt anyone, but people probing into this stuff...well, it could go pear shaped."

April considered what Dermot said and then, after a while, replied, "Let me read the mission profile first. I gotta admit, everything you just said is the first thing that occurred to me, too. I mean, this isn't what we do. I'm a little uncomfortable about it too."

Dermot sighed and then said, "Yeah, well, it kinda gets worse. The fact is, if we do this – and our illustrious leader, Jessica Ingrams very much wants us to – then the only way we can put you in there is as the masseuse. And that means..."

April's shoulders deflated. "Let me guess. The masseuse is the fuck toy, right? For everyone?"

"That's about the size of it. That and the two maids. The bottom line is that for the past two years, they've basically been the entertainment for those managers who get invited. Managers do bring their significant others, by the way, too."

"So, let me get this straight. I'm going to be gang fucked over the course of a week, while trying to find bank robbers among a bunch of bank managers. I'm going to be out of contact and backup will be three hours away, if I can contact them and they hear me? Is that about the size of it?"

Dermot nodded unhappily, but then said, "On the plus side, we'll have handled something that Pinkerton could not."

"Oh great," replied April, "assuming I survive it. And no one will ever know."

She sighed again.

"I need to read the mission report, look at what they actually want us to do and I'll get back to you, ok Dermot?"

Dermot looked even more unhappy. "They need an answer by tomorrow. You are the only spare field agent we have right now, plus Jessica – and I – feel you have the ability to handle this. But I can't say I like this April, I really don't."

"You and me both Dermot, you and me both. How long we have before this little junket kicks off?"

"Five weeks. Should only take you a couple of weeks to get the skills you need to pull off being a masseuse, and we can spend the rest of the time doing profiles on the other people attending and coming up with plans."

April just sat there, staring at Dermot and wondering if he often had to ask field agents to do what he was asking her.

"If I do this, I want one HELL of a bonus."

Dermot grinned back at her, for the first time in ten minutes. "You'll get it."

*****

That night, April went through the information packet with a fine toothcomb, staying late to do it, since Ingrams had a strict policy of not allowing documentation like that off the premises. She ended up leaving at 2:30am, her mind swirling with everything she had read.

She had to admit, what Dermot had said about the Osoros Island didn't do it justice. The island was almost fully self-contained. All it needed was a self-propulsion system. . 

It had a large freezer section – with storage space for enough food for a month. It even had a small workout room, with a treadmill and a multi-gym. Every room had a balcony, except those for the help. The kitchen was large enough to cook for everyone – it even had a media room, complete with 8 terabyte hard drive with every movie imaginable on it. The only thing missing was an Internet connection – it was apparently offered on this model, but the owner had specifically said he didn't want it. When you were on his island, you were cut off from the world.

The packet included details on how the lucky winners got to the island – they flew to Fiji, via private jet, then took a smaller puddle jumper down to Kadavu Island, three hours south. The island itself was moored in a cove in Ono Island, just north and east of Kadavu. Once at Kadavu, the visitors were taken via fast zodiac inflatable watercraft to the artificial island. Luggage was limited, and they were usually sharing space with food supplies. Everyone was warned to bring what they needed, because once they were there, there was no calling down to reception to get a new tooth brush or shampoo. In particular, they were told to bring sunscreen. The sun around Fiji was fierce and unrelenting and people got burned very quickly.

Ono Island, like Kadavu, was right on a barrier reef, which meant the snorkeling was amazing, and the island had three jet skis and a two outboard motorboats moored; there was no lack of things to do. The island itself actually boasted a very small village and resort, which meant there was a communications portal available, which was something.

But more interesting to April were the people, and the entire situation that she was getting involved with. In the past two years, there'd been five bank robberies at various Northwestern Bank locations, and in each case, the robbers had the good luck to attend on a day when the bank was most swollen from incoming monies. 

The banks had a complicated schedule of moving money around and the days of the robberies just happened to coincide with when each bank was holding the most in liquid funds for weeks. This was obviously too much of a coincidence. Furthermore, the robbers knew exactly who had access to the vaults, where the panic buttons were – their attention to detail was staggering. They were in and out in about eight minutes. No one saw their faces because they were all wearing masks and only one man spoke. They carried weapons but had never used one. They were reported to be calm and collected.

April's investigative instincts were immediately aroused – cool bank robbers meant lots of planning for contingencies and also lots of inside intel. This was obviously a career choice for them, not a spur of the moment thing as lots of robberies actually were. She read the police reports, and noted there were no obvious clues – this was a new crew that even the FBI had no leads on.

But what was really interesting was the corresponding marriage break-ups there had been. In fact, over the last two years, almost 5 marriages had self destructed – all couples who'd been to the island over the years – and one single man had quit his managerial position and moved to Vermont, to live alone. All the marriages had dissolved under 'irreconcilable differences' and in some cases the managers had carried on their careers, although almost always at different banks. Some had just left the profession entirely.

All of the marriages, save one, that had ended, had been at banks where robberies had taken place. The implication was obvious.

The state police had interviewed and re-interviewed everyone involved, asked about the marriages and everything else and come up empty handed. Either the people who instigated this were very very good, or there really was no correlation. In each case, the ex spouses had pointed at the bank robberies as the reason for their marital discord – which was hardly surprising. The pressure of being a potential suspect for a robbery on your own bank would push anyone to extremes.




Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 01



In the case of the one couple who had split, where the bank branch was not robbed, they'd claimed that things had gone too far on the island; that the events there had been not what they'd expected – things had happened with other people and neither one had been able to handle the fall out, and so they'd split, as amicably as they could.

It was at this point where Tom Patterson had gotten Pinkerton involved – they'd re-interviewed everyone and while they hadn't come up with anything new either, they drew the same conclusions that everyone else did. Something was going on on the Island, and someone would need to check it out. In actual fact, their recommendation was simply to shut down those yearly trips. It was their thinking that would end the activities and everyone would be happy, but that was not enough for Tom Patterson. He wanted to catch these bastards, and know how they'd done it, and know they would never do it again, because they were behind bars.

Since the location was a problem for Pinkerton, and because of the marital discord involved, Pinkerton had reluctantly recommended Ingrams as a potential way to get to the bottom of it.

And here it was, on April's desk.

She'd looked hard at the reports of the actual robberies, trying to gauge what kind of people these were. They planned, they weren't violent, they'd never injured anyone and they'd made it very plain they didn't want to; they were there just for the money – although what they'd do to someone actively trying to stop them wasn't clear. In that situation they might get violent, or they might just walk away.

April's initial thinking was these people were not violent, at least no more than they had to appear to be in order to rob a bank in the first place. And she also figured that unless everyone who was on the Osoros Island was in on it, she'd be relatively safe.

After reading all this, she'd taken a look at this year's winners of the Branch Manager competition.

There were four couples and three solo men – all of whom had bumper years in their branches. Of the couples, two of the branch managers were women. 

She skimmed over their names – Bridget and John Fleischman, Paula and Mike Woods, Brenda and John Roaker, and Kim and Rashid Patel rounded out the couples and the single guys were Mark Roschgord, Sal Girodano and Kevin Smith – she did smile at the same name as the renowned movie director.

She then checked up on the support staff of the resort. Each year, they were different. The main contact and the chef had full time year round contracts – they were different every year, but they were resident on the island full time for the duration of that contract. The masseuse and 'wait staff' were brought on a few days before the lucky winners arrived, so they could be settled in and to understand their duties. All were new every year, although she did note that the same agency was used in all cases. She made a note to do a background check of them, although she also noted that Pinkerton had mentioned they had already done one and found nothing. She didn't find that report included. She made another note to see if they could get that.

By the time she'd left, April had already made the decision to accept the case. It scratched her investigative itch and while the sex was going to be a challenge, this was one of the reasons she came to Ingrams in the first place. 

She'd already started in on a research plan – she wanted permission to hack the computers of the marriage counselors , in order to get background on what went wrong and what she should be looking out for. Such hacking was strictly illegal and definitely unethical, but she justified it to herself that she was the one putting herself potentially in harms way – she wanted to be as forearmed as could possibly be.

She'd also wanted full background checks on the people she would be sharing time with on the island. What was in the packet was the internal HR documents from the Astrid Bank HR. She would want more detailed documentation, so she could build up a profile on each of them, and see if anyone had any skeletons in their closets that could open them up to possible blackmail. While they were doing that, she'd also get the same profiles on those who'd been there before – see if there were any telling overlaps.

She did wonder a bit why Pinkerton hadn't already done all this – after all, this could all be done from their offices in the southeast. Maybe they had and just didn't want to turn that information over; she could see them doing that. Either way, she'd feel more confident if Ingrams' people did the work. She trusted her researchers. They'd never let her down in the past.

She came in late the next day and went straight to Dermot's office, knocking on the doorframe, like he'd done to her the day before.

"Knock Knock."

He looked up, putting down the iPad he'd had in his hands and smiled at her, genuinely welcoming her.

"April. You look bright eyed and bushy tailed!"

"It's all makeup and cocaine," she said, facetiously. 

He raised an eyebrow and that and then gestured to the chair in front of his desk. He, like his boss, Jessica Ingrams, had an amazing view of the Potomac behind his desk. Like Jessica, April could never understand why both of them had their desks arranged so it was at their backs. If she had a view like that, she'd want to look at it all the time. Perhaps that was why – if they didn't close off the view, they'd never stop looking at it.

Perhaps Dermot was telepathic, or perhaps her thinking was written over her face, but as he sat back, the grin got wider and he nodded at April, to look behind her. She turned and noticed for the first time the long, wide mirror that sat on the wall beside the door entrance. Dermot got the view whenever he wanted, and still got to face the door.

"So...?" 

"I'll do it. It sounds...interesting. I need interesting right now."

"Ok then. What's the plan?"

"I spent most of last night going over the packet. I'd like to spend the day preparing a basic plan, then send it out and do a team meeting say on Friday?"

"Sounds good. So I can definitely tell Jessica we'll take it on, then? You sure about that?"

"Hell no I'm not sure about it. But I'm going to do it. I want a tan," laughed April.

"Fine," replied Dermot. "Just be sure you use sunscreen."


*****
And so it began. Research and Development started their background checks, and April began an intensive course on becoming a masseuse. She found the work interesting – learning about the internal musculature of the human body and how it all fit together. She started each day looking in the mirror and naming each bone, and then at the end of the day, naming each muscle.

She learned about deep tissue massage, and how it was best done by those with a lot of experience, since it could do as much damage as it could repair when done incorrectly. She did smile when the instructor mentioned how we'd all had that one friend who thought they could massage, and they'd get on behind you and start kneading your shoulders to the point where you felt your arms would fall off, and them going on about having 'magic fingers.'

It takes a lot of training to do deep tissue and do it well – especially a sports massage, where it's possible to hurt someone if done incorrectly. 

She learned about knots – what they actually were – blood engorged fissures in the muscle - how they felt, what you could do to relieve them, where they normally cropped up. She learned it was mostly in the shoulders, since it's the central point where lots of muscle groups come together, but it's almost a massive moving part on the body. Almost everyone had knots in that area. And she found that performing a massage well was actually quite a relaxing event. She obviously had no problem putting her hands on people, and after getting a very cheesy document awarded two weeks later – which she couldn't help putting in a frame and displaying in her office – she bought a chair and table, installed those in her office , and then offered anyone in Ingrams a free massage for the next three weeks, so she could practice.

She was quite popular and had almost everyone in the company in her chair or on the table at some point or another. Even Jessica Ingrams herself stunned April when she walked in, discarded her clothes and climbed on the table, just asking April 'to be gentle'.

She had learned where to concentrate on different people given then backgrounds – those in the R&D section she spent a lot of time on shoulders, arms and forearms, and the hands, since most people who work at computers only really tense them muscles in one direction – almost none of them have any reverse tensile strength in their forearms, since they spend all the time with their hands resting on the computer or using a mouse.

She learned how exotic and sexual a massage could be, done properly. She learned about oil usage, the use of aroma therapy during sessions, and how she could excite someone – or even quash that excitement - using her fingers and hands. When she was done, she was very happy with her new skill set. It was a hell of a seduction technique to add to her repertoire, and she ended up recommending to Jessica and Dermot that all new recruits go through this training, regardless. It was just too handy a skill for what they did as a company to not have it.

In the meantime, Ingrams and April worked hard on getting profiles built up of all the participants of the island's activities. April had specifically asked for profiles of all past participants, too. She wanted to know everything about everyone. It put the R&D group under quite a strain, since normally they didn't need to go into deep dives on so many people at once. 

But, as April put it in the meeting where they protested about the amount of work, "It's not your ass in the middle of the Pacific, hours from any help." 

That got them to stop whining and buckle down.

In the end she had her profiles, everything that was known about the individuals concerned and after reading them all, April was none the wiser. 

She began to suspect that she had the same results that the Pinkerton agency had gotten, and this had played a part in them passing the case on to Ingrams; Pinkerton simply didn't have a place to start, any more than she really did.

She did smile when she thought about that, that perhaps this assignment would simply be her, relaxing on a private island, handing out massages, getting a tan and getting laid. Wouldn't that be nice, even if unlikely. Ingrams assignments never worked out like that.

Time moved on, contingency plans were laid, and eventually it was the week before she was due to leave. Before that happened, April was summoned to Dermot's office.

When she got there, she found Jessica Ingrams herself sitting in his office, in the easy chair net to his desk, waiting for her along with Dermot.

Jessica pursed her lips as April sat down. April gave her a tight smile and sat, looking at Dermot, waiting for whatever they had to say.

"Well, let's get down to it, April. I'm not wildly thrilled about this one. Being so far out of contact seriously worries me, particularly when we aren't completely sure what we are sending you into. I've looked over all the documentation and I can't see what is going on here, and my understanding is that you can't either. Which both worries me and reassures me. It's entirely possible that this is a wild goose chase, but then it's also possible that something very deep is going on here."

Jessica paused, looking intently at April for a moment, then continued, "So, given we are doing this – and yes, I heard all about that bonus Dermot promised you..." she threw a fast dirty look at Dermot who just smiled back, looking like a shark about to go for a seal, "we need to protect you as best we can. So here's what we propose. We will have a team on Fiji, and a helicopter on standby the whole time. You call and we are there, as soon as we can get there. We will also have a zodiac crew on standby, in case the weather makes the helicopter impractical. And in terms of contact, we have this."

Jessica nodded to the table, where some hardware sat. There was a tablet, several small black objects and what looked like a phone with a gun silencer on it.

Jessica nodded at Dermot, who leaned forward and started going through the items. 

"Ok, so what we have here is a modified Chinese android tablet. We get these direct from the factory in Shen Zen, and they are extremely expensive because they don't make these, apart from our requests. It's got a much larger battery and also has a huge amount of internal storage. It's also got a radio built in, that talks to these." Dermot gestured at the small black objects. "Small wifi mikes. This thing will both record all of these mikes at once, at up to a distance of 100 feet, and then it has software loaded that will analyze the recorded samples, looking for whatever sample words you tell it to look for. The fact is that there's simply no way for you to record what is going on in other people's cabins without this; you'd just never have the time to go over all the samples you'd get back. We figured this would be the best way to be able to eavesdrop and not have you spend all your time with headphones on."

April picked up one of the mikes and examined it. It was small, black, had a small wire out the back and had what looked like a magnetic clip on it.

"So, I'd have to plant these?"

Dermot nodded. "Yes. The batteries I am assured will last for at least a month, so it'll cover the time you are there."

"Ok. Well, that's... nice. Very cloak and dagger. Do I get something in the heel of my shoe too?" 

Jessica shot a dagger look at April, while Dermot covered a smile.

"I had no idea you were familiar with the old Man from Uncle stuff, April," he said.

"Uncle Marcus loved all that old cold war spy stuff. We used to do weekend marathons. James Bond, Man From Uncle, Mission Impossible, we watched them all. Do I get a pen with a radio in it too?" answered April, blithely.

Jessica humphed. "April, I'm trying to ensure you have the tools you need. This could be dangerous."

"I know. I just don't think a bunch of clever bugs is going to make that much difference in keeping me safe. It'll help with working out what is going on, but it's not going to make me any safer. Quite the contrary, if anyone finds one of these bugs."

"We did think about that. We were wondering that if you put them in the same place in every cabin, like a decoration or something, they may get overlooked and assumed to be part of that decoration." said Dermot.

"Yeah, perhaps. Only takes on curious person to pull it off and realize what it is though, and it all suddenly becomes a witch hunt," replied April, putting down the mike she had in her hand.

Dermot nodded with his head on a tilt, the way people do when acknowledging a point.

"What's this?" asked April, picking up what looked like a walkie talkie with a gun silencer on it.

"Satellite phone. Besides the island radio, there is no communications from the island. I'm not happy about that, so you are taking this as well. Your own personal communications device, guaranteed to work. We are taking no chances here. Works just like a real phone, you just dial and it connects."

"Oh cool," said April, looking at it closer. "What area code is it in?"

"April," said an exasperated Jessica. "I don't think you are considering this with the seriousness we are."

April looked back at Jessica and for the first time, felt a little pissed.

"Look, I'm the one going. I'm the one doing this for you. It's not like you've said 'oh April, don't go, this is too dangerous' is it?" There was a hint of steel in April's voice she'd never let out to her boss before.

Jessica did at least have the sense to look away. She glanced over at Dermot, who cleared his throat and then said, "Yes, well, be that as it may, we do have something else for you."

He gestured to some parts - that looked like a disassembled camera - on the table. 

"These are individual parts for a taser. There's no way you'll be able to travel with a fully assembled one – security would never let you on the plane. But these should go under the radar just fine. You reassemble like this..." Dermot picked up four individual parts and slotted them together easily, "...and it's ready to go. They will fire four times when fully charged and can be charged either by replacing the rechargeable batteries, or from just plugging it into the wall. There are charger cables supplied with them. And you are getting three of them, just to be sure."

He passed the assembled taser across to April, who examined it.

"Now this is more like it. Love it. It's nicer than the original one you guys gave me. Nice feeling of weight to it."

"It has a range of thirty feet – way more than the 8 feet of the originals. That should be enough. Guaranteed to incapacitate an elephant. Well, a small one anyway."

Everyone smiled and the tension in the room slowly evaporated.

"Well, definitely liking the new toys, have to say it. Thanks guys," said April.

Then Jessica said, "One more thing. This is just for you."

She leaned down and picked up a bag under her seat. The moment she brought it up, the top opened a little and some very pungent smells erupted. They weren't unpleasant, just...pungent.

April took the bag and peeked inside. Inside were the small round bath bombs that Lush had made popular. She knew that if she dropped them in a bath, they would start to fizz, distributing their scents and oils into the water over five or so minutes.

She looked at Jessica, puzzled.

"I have a friend who is both a bit of a mix wizard and also works part time at Lush as a mixer. These bath bombs are...special. They are designed to relax and sooth sore genitals. They actually work great. I've used them myself." Jessica actually blushed at this.

"They contain special soothing oils. It's likely that this assignment might be a little rough in just how much sex might happen, and I wanted to give you something that might help. I don't know if there even baths on the island, but I figured if not, maybe you can drop on in the hot tub. Either way, they are for you."

April was touched by the gesture, and put down the bag and got up and went over to Jessica and gave her a hug. Jessica was obviously surprised, but didn't say anything, she just accepted the hug.

April leaned back out of the hug and said, "Thanks Jessica. That's a lovely gesture."

Then she stood up and asked, "Anything else before I get this show on the road?"

"Just, best of luck, April. We will be in constant communication with Simon the whole time. Be safe. And figure it out. You are one of the best agents we have; if anyone can figure this out, you can."

Simon Miles was her contact on Fiji. She'd be flying out with him in a couple of days, along with two large contractors Ingrams had hired to be muscle, if it was required. Ingrams did a lot business with contractors, most of whom weren't even aware of who they were actually hired by or what was going on at any given time. Simon Miles, though, was a full-fledged field agent. They'd worked together before, when April had to be his girlfriend, for an operation which required that. They'd operated well together, and he'd been free to run support for April's op at the time, so off he went. He was more than happy – it was a couple of weeks sitting in a nice hotel and at the beach for him. He couldn't exactly leave and go diving, but it still beat sitting in an office in Washington D.C.

The operation was about as planned out as she could make it, covering every angle she – and the rest of the staff of Ingrams – could conceive. Now, it just had to happen.



Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 02



Two days later, April found herself on a United flight to San Francisco, to pick up a flight to Fiji later that day, accompanied by Simon Miles, and their two contractors, Mikey and Ramon. The flights were uneventful, and she did her best to relax and prepare herself for the upcoming ordeal.

When they arrived at Shizuoka airport, after dealing with passport control and gathering their luggage, Simon and his colleagues hugged April, wished her luck, and left for their hotel as soon as they could, so as not to be seen with her. April wandered the airport, looking for the pickup she was told to wait for. 

Her cover was that of Tara Nesbit. She'd spent almost an entire afternoon concocting and rejecting back stories, not having a clue to what degree they'd need to be good for – she had no idea how much they'd be tested, so to be safe, she'd generated an almost generic one that was actually based of someone else. So if it was tested, it would hold up, even though she was actually impersonating a real person.

Eventually after wandering for twenty minutes, she discovered a little wizened Indian, dressed in colorful clothes, holding up a piece of paper with her cover name on it, misspelled. He smiled at her when she approached him, displaying a mouth full of cracked, brown or just missing teeth.

"You come," said the little man, gesturing, "boat waiting."

April noticed he didn't bother to offer to take her luggage, but since she only had a roll-on and a backpack, she wasn't over burdened.

They went out side, and April was blasted by hot air. Dermot had been right; it was hot out there. She was extremely pleased she'd thought ahead and brought shorts, a floppy hat and a T-shirt with her, and had changed in the airplane, prior to touching down.

They got into an old jalopy sort of car. Not quite the 1950's style you see in Cuba, but more a beat up 1970's estate car. All the rear windows were missing and the seats were covered in brightly colored blankets.

"You come, you come. We go long way," said the little man, obviously impatient to go.

They drove across the island. April noticed how the north side was all long burnt grass, and yet when they drove around the volcano, on the south side, it suddenly because more lush and verdant. April had done her homework – she knew this was to do with the winds on the North side, which took the moisture out of everything. In the lee of the Volcano, the winds calmed and didn't suck the water out of everything.

When they went past the lower reaches of the volcano, she saw several small cave like entrances. Again, the research paid off – she knew what they were. Several of the small caves were places where the populace took shelter when Tsunami's hit the shores, which had happened more than a few times. Those caves had saved many lives, over the years.

Then they were on the other side of the island, where more of the population lived, and where the island's resorts were. Eventually they pulled up short of a small jetty, where two of the larger models of Zodiac were tied up, bobbing up and down slowly. Both had overhangs attached, to shield from the sun, and she couldn't help noticing how heavy the construction of those overhangs were. 

On one boat there was two women lounging, both drinking a diet coke. On the other, several boxes, including some freezer boxes, were stacked up. Obviously they were on a supply run at the same time as transporting passengers.

April climbed out of the car and went round the back to get her bags, only to find the little man had got there first and had rushed off with her roll on bag. 'Oh sure, when he's in front of the boss, he's all please and carry,' she thought. She just shrugged, adjusted the backpack on her shoulder and walked down to the boats on the jetty.

"Miss Nesbit?" inquired a big tan man, who was holding a clipboard. He smiled at her, and she looked him up and down. A big man, at least six foot two, he was well muscled, had brown hair that looked like it had frosting in it, an easy smile and he moved gracefully.

"Yes, that's me. And you are...?" April smiled back in that anxious way that people do when they are alone and other people appear to know them.

"I'm Martin Steele. I'm the island director. You are right on time. The agency sent us your travel details."

He reached out to offer April his hand so she could step over the large cylinders that made up the side of the boat. As she did so, the wizened old man dumped her roll on into the other end of the boat.

"Thank you, Joe," said Steele, without taking his gaze off April as she clambered over the side. She was glad again for the shorts; getting into a zodiac in a skirt would mean showing the entire world her panties.

Once inside, she found some shade to sit in, opposite the two women already in the boat, who were sizing her up in a very obvious fashion.

"Hi. I'm Tara. Hot enough here for you?" she asked, with a smile, taking off her hat and fanning herself with it. [Who is "she"? Who is saying this line? Please describe Tara or take her out.]

The two girls exchanged a look that April caught. They knew each other then. Interesting, but not that surprising.

"I'm Astrid," said one, and the other immediately piped up with, "and I'm Sam."

There was a familiarity of statement, which indicated to April that Astrid and Sam knew each other well. The ability to finish off someone else's statement and not have them mad at you indicated a long-term familiarity and acceptance. These two were old friends, obviously.

April leaned back against the Zodiac pressure cylinder that made up the side of the boat and took in these two. She knew who they were; she'd seen their personnel files. Astrid Johnston and Samantha Pole – they were the waitresses, ostensibly from the same agency she was supposed to be from. They were, in fact, strippers with elastic morals, there to fuck pretty much anyone who asked, much as she was.

While she'd read their profiles, April had realized early on there was no substitute for actually meeting someone, seeing how they interacted, viewed the world. Watching these two, she could see two people who knew each other, were ok with how they were, were ok with their chosen life occupation, and who didn't give much of a shit about anything or anyone else.

They were giggling, looking around, nudging each other, whispering to each other, looking slyly at April and Martin Steele and saying things and collapsing into giggles. All in all, more like teenagers than women with experience of the world.

April shaded her eyes and tried to make herself comfortable, as the boat cast off, exited the small harbor and hit the open sea. Thankfully, it was a calm day and the Zodiac cut through the water like a knife. There were some waves, but generally, April managed to wedge herself down the side of the boat and just held on.

Martin Steele glanced back at her, smiled and shouted something she couldn't hear. She just smiled back, hoping that was an appropriate response.

Three hours later, Kadavu Island had grown to a lush paradise. They cut round to the east. April did notice signs of habitation, although nothing beyond small villages and huts – no real large buildings or hotels - and after twenty minutes, they turned into a small natural harbor with curved edges on the side. It looked for all the world like a movie set – light blue sea through crystal water, a beach with white sand. Behind that, jungle like foliage, and in the middle of the harbor sat the Oroso Artificial Island.

The literature that she'd read didn't do it justice. It gleamed in the afternoon light, the setting sun reflecting off all the solar panels on its upper decks. It was circular, about three stories tall and looked spectacular. They swept in and tied at the back, where there was a small floating dock, complete with three jet skis. There wasn't enough space for both boats to tie up at the same time, so the one with the passengers tied up first, off loaded its cargo, and then backed off as the second one tied up. Martin Steele jumped in immediately and started off loading the boxes onto the dock, which another man – Mario Tropez, she recognized from the profiles – came out of the side door and, glancing at the new arrivals, started carrying the boxes inside.

April just stood there, clutching her bags, alternately looking up at he island, and back at Martin Steele, who suddenly realized he'd left his charges just standing there. 

"Lets get inside." 

April found herself inside a small antechamber, circular, with a couple of easy chairs and a long couch, attached to the wall. There were circular stairs in the corner, leading up, and in the walls several doorways, including the one she'd just come through.

"Right," said Steele, as the last of the boxes were deposited on the floor. "Mario, get these stored away. Ladies, lets get you organized. First, Sam, you are in room three. That one. Key is inside." He gestured at one of the doors. "Astrid, you are next door in room four. April, you are in room six. This level is the hired help facilities. The clients have rooms above us. Go stash your stuff, and we'll meet out here in fifteen minutes, and I'll give you the tour."

With that, everyone started to move. April went to the door marked six, and pushed it open, trailing her wheelie luggage behind her.

The room wasn't huge, but it wasn't as small as she was expecting either. Slightly cramped, a bed, a tiny set of bathroom facilities – she sighed in appreciation that even though there wasn't room for a full bath, it had one of those step in tub things, with the door that opens and closes and that can fill with water – the kind of things advertised for seniors. So she could use her bath bombs without having to dump them into the hot tub. That was a small relief.

The main room had almost floor to ceiling windows, but they didn't open. She noticed that the water line was only a couple of feet below the bottom of her window, so it was obvious why they didn't open. She idly wondered if, when the others got here, with the extra weight, if the island would sink down at all, and she might get to see under the waves.

The bed was a queen, which she didn't expect. There was a TV on the wall, wall sconces for light, a small closet and chest to put things in, and a small desk setup. The view outside the window, it looked like a cheap motel room. Which was fine by her. More than she was expecting.

She dropped her bags, used the bathroom and then wandered back out to the antechamber to wait for Steele and the others to show up. They weren't long and she noticed that both Sam and Astrid had changed clothes.

Steele came down the circular staircase and said, "Good, all here. OK ladies. This is Mario Topez. He's the cook here, so be nice to him. He makes the best ribs on the face of the earth, and he also does a wicked full breakfast."

April smiled at his usage of the word "wicked".

"Ok, so lets take the tour."

The girls and April were shown what was behind some of the doors on the "help level" as Steele called it. There were six rooms for the help, two with bunk bed arrangements in them, so it could sleep eight. Behind one room was the small engineering area, where there was a generator, banks of batteries being charged by the solar panels above, a water purifier system, even a small all in one washer/dryer and several other mechanical things that April glazed out over. There was a tiny machine shop in the corner, with things like drills, saws and stuff like that. In the corner was another door, with access to where the fresh water tanks were stored, the heating system and so on.

Behind another door was the large freezer – stacked with enough food, they were informed, to feed them all for three weeks. Behind another door was a tiny first aid suite, just big enough for a bed, a chair, a wall full of drugs behind a locked panel and some basic medical tools. She noticed there was even a tooth extractor on the wall. April idly wondered if anyone present actually had any medical training.

Then, there was the door towards the front of the island – as much as she could tell if there was a front or a back for a round island with no propulsion system.

On opening the door, everyone 'oohed' and 'ahhed'. It revealed a fully furnished media room. There were three levels of lazy boy reclining leather chairs, a projector, speakers all down the walls. At the back there was a large media center, and the screen at the front was probably twenty feet in size. It was like a mini movie theater. There was even a popcorn machine at the back. All the lighting was recessed – even strip lighting under the mantles near the floor.

April stood looking at it, and Martin Steele came up behind her and said, "What do you think?"

April glanced back at him, at the two girls and said, "I can't imagine what porn would look like up there."

He laughed and said, "You'd be surprised. This island comes complete with an eight-terabyte hard drive system with every movie you can imagine, and then some. I don't doubt there is some porn on there."

After that, the rest of the island was viewed through new filters. The upstairs, mid level, was opulent. A center room was circular, with all the newest and most comfortable furnishings. There was a bar on one side, with everything in it you could imagine. A smaller TV was mounted on another wall. Around the side were doors to the six client cabins. April took a peek inside and found to her surprise, they weren't that much bigger than her room. They were better furnished, and the bathrooms were nicer, but apart from that, not much difference. Although, as she looked at the floor to ceiling windows, she discovered another difference. They had a veranda. She opened the door and discovered that there was a veranda that wrapped the living area of the island; each room shared the same veranda. Then she realized that they were actually on top of the help level rooms – they had no veranda, since their roof was the relaxation area for the actual client rooms above.

It was nice. Close, but nice. She found herself wishing she could stay as a guest rather than the help. Then she remembered she was there to do a job, not have a vacation.

One other room on the mid level was shown – the kitchen. April was shocked. It was open plan, large, brand new and had every fixture she could imagine. But what else shocked April was the fact that the walls at the back folded back and the entire room could be opened to the elements. You could literally walk out of your room onto the veranda, walk around the edge of the island, and then into the kitchen, all without going inside at all.

They learned some new facts about the island. It was a beta design – it hadn't actually been proven yet and the owner had agreed to be a beta tester to get it cheaper. It had four anchors, so the island wouldn't rotate in place. Nothing worse than trying to get some sun and the thing you are sitting on rotating it out of view.

The island was stable, and shouldn't rock too much – the natural harbor also shielded them from tropical storms, so even if a hurricane hit, they'd have almost no turbulence. But in that situation, they'd take cover on the actual real island of Kadavu, since it had storm shelters built out of rock.

Then Steele took them outside. And that was a revelation. 

There were two levels of outside. One on the main living area, and then another, above it. Smaller, but more compact, it was basically an outside luxury lounge. There was another bar there, a grilling station, several built-in lounge chairs, even a hot tub, all set up and ready for use. There were sweeping stairs that went down to the main living area, at the front end of the island – over the top of the media room downstairs. On the main living level, there were several recliners scattered around, and then Steele nudged April and nodded to one corner, where there was a full massage table setup. There were even several oils on a frame on the wall, and what April recognized as an oil warmer. It was a small jar, designed to have hot water put in it, then the bottle of oil. She was glad to see it, because she only had three bottles of different oil types in her luggage.

She went over and ran her hands over the table. It was obviously brand new. It even smelled like brand new leather. She smiled – elements of this might be fun.

She looked at everyone watching her and said, with a big smile, "Well. We need to break this baby in. Anyone want a massage later?"

She got answering smiles and lots of affirmative noises. And, it turned out, that was the end of the tour, but not before Martin Steele had a few things to say.

"Ok, ladies, Mario. Some ground rules. We know why we are here – we are here to make the following week go well. You may hear things, you may see things, but what happens here stays here. If the clients want to wander around nude, that's their prerogative. You are here to make them happy. Every way we can. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun too. You get to eat what they eat, you get to swim in the lagoon, too. Remember your sun block."

Astrid raised her hand. "Er, question? What exactly are we to do? I mean, I know we are here to be waitresses, but are we just supposed to sit around waiting for someone to ask for something? What are our duty hours?"

Steele looked at her and said, "Your duty hours are 24/7. Basically, if someone asks for something, you provide it. But you aren't expected to be in a maids outfit and hover. You can consider yourself as a guest too – just remember you need to make them happy, ok? Now, during the day, there will be games and events we'll schedule for the clients – things like throwing a case of champagne into the water and letting them swim down and pick it up. Stuff like that. You guys won't be taking part in any of those activities, but otherwise, you get to lie around and soak up the sun, too. Most of your duties will take place around mealtimes, and if you are asked to make a drink. I know you, Tara, are a qualified bartender, so make sure you familiarize yourself with the bar inside, ok?"

The two girls nodded at each other [where did Tara go?] and Steele and then got up and started to wander to stairs down to the help level. Steele called out after them and said, "Dinner is at seven. Be ready."

One of the girls – Samantha, April saw – raised her hand in acknowledgment, and then they went down the stairs.

Steele turned to April and smiled at her – a genuine smile - and said, conspiratorially, "I hope they do a better job than the impression they give."

April glanced over at the stairs and said, "Oh, I'm sure they will. How hard is it to give a blowjob? It reminds me of that old joke."

"What joke?"

"A man is asked, 'describe the worst blow job you've ever had.' And he looks at the person asking and says 'the worst??'"

Steele laughed, and then checked his watch.

"Ok, well, I have to store the new supplies. You should go get your head down for a while – the jet lag is a bitch here, because of how light it is. There's a small remote in your room that frosts the windows, and cuts out all light; it'll help you sleep."

"Oooh, clever! I wonder if I can get a gadget like that for home!" said April, snorting.

"I don't know. Lets just say, it wasn't cheap for this island."

"Can I ask a question?" asked April, with a curious tone.

"Sure," answered Steele.

"How did you come to be here? Pampering rich, sexed up bankers?"

He smiled, and it seemed to April it was a sad smile. "A story for another day," he said, and then added, "I need to get those supplies dealt with. See you at dinner."

And with that, he left.

April wondered. This had to be murder for him. She'd read his file, she knew why he was here, but she also knew his secret, and how hard this must be for him. Martin Steele was gay and had a full time partner at home. He was here for any of the couples who might avail themselves of some same sex opportunities. She resolved to have a one on one drinking session with Mr. Steele and have a long chat about what he actually did – if at all. From what she understood, everyone was heterosexual. But, she was tired and she needed to unpack, and she needed to get the audio bugs planted.




Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 02



She went back down to her room, grabbed a few things from her luggage, and decided to take a quick shower, then check out the bed. The shower was great – she felt refreshed, then checked out the bed. She bounced on it a few times – like everyone does, even though they feel like they are seven again – tried laying down on it – and was asleep in seconds.

*****

April woke up, and had to cover her eyes. The view out of her window was spectacular. The sun was setting, and the sky was gorgeous shades of red and gold, behind some clouds on the horizon. The sun was going down over the island, showing up the jungle in the distance as a black silhouette. It was quite breathtaking, and if the sun hadn't been dazzling her, coming right into her room, she'd probably still be asleep.

She checked her watch and found it was six thirty, local time. Just enough time to finish unpacking and to dress for dinner.

But first...April pulled her luggage to the bed, and dug out the satellite phone. It connected first time and she went through the usual sign / countersign challenge from the person who answered the phone. She was told to wait for a second, then she heard Dermot's voice on the small phone. It was a little tinny, but April was just impressed it worked at all.

"Hey April. There ok? Good flight?" asked Dermot.

"I'm here. My god, this island thing is amazing. Seriously, I'll take pictures to show you when I get back."

"Well, don't be too impressed. It costs over forty million dollars. For that money, it damn well should be amazing."

April suppressed a smile. Trust Dermot to reduce out the experience to the cost.

"Well, I'm installed. I need to plant the bugs – I'll try and get that done tomorrow. They are cooking us dinner tonight, which should be nice. Did the other guys get checked in ok?" she asked.

"Yes, they are established. In fact, they think they've found a fishing boat they can hire, and are planning on fishing off Kadavu Island. That means they'll be local to you, so if you need them, they'll be there that much faster."

"Oh that's great. That's awesome. Yeah, that helps put my mind at rest. Hey Dermot, I gotta run. I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

"Understood, April. Be safe."

The connection broke and April threw the phone down on the bed and sat, staring around the room, trying to figure out where she could plant an audio bug. Since all the rooms were laid out similarly, if she could figure out a place in her room, it was likely that would work in the other people's rooms.

In the end, she settled for putting it just inside the sconce, on the wall. It had a metal frame, so the magnetic bottom of the microphone stuck to it just fine, and if placed correctly, it didn't interfere with the light the appliance threw. She tested recording audio in her room, and found the mike picked up everything perfectly.

Now she just had to get into the other rooms and plant them. But that was a job for tomorrow. Now, it was dinnertime. What to wear for the first night?

*****


The next two days passed slowly in some ways, and incredibly fast in others. April was handing out massages almost daily to everyone, and spending a lot of time in the sun, swimming and generally relaxing the rest of the time.

She'd spent some time behind the bar, mixing drinks from a book, since one thing she'd never been was a bartender, even though, according to her resume, she was a qualified one. It was all new to her, but she found she took to it like a duck to water.

Astrid and Samantha tried to help by giving her some instruction, but most of that instruction took place with April behind the bar, and the two of them, sitting in front of it, tasting whatever concoction she was currently attempting to master.

Food was sometimes grilled, sometimes prepared in the master kitchen, but whatever it was, it was great to eat. Mario truly was a master of that domain.

April's massages were popular, and she learned even more about the body when Samantha pulled a muscle in her shoulder while swimming. April could feel the knots and worked hard to smooth them out and remove the kink. The more she did the massage, the more she could feel her way around the muscles of the body and the more she began to feel how one muscle could affect another.

Professionally, she kept up with her phone calls back to base, and even spoke with the support team, just checking in. She got an earful of complaints that they couldn't drink beer while they were finishing, in case they were needed, but other than that, everything was as prepared as it could be.

She did manage to place all the bugs. All client quarters were planted, and she'd managed to get into one of the girls rooms and Martin Steele's, but not Astrid's or Mario's. It was actually far harder to place the bugs on the help level, because everyone had already moved in and got their key cards that locked the door. On the living level, no one had yet, so planting them there was easy.

April was biding her time – she had a plan to get into Mario's room, and wasn't sure if it would work on Astrid.

She was going to seduce them.

That night, it was beer pong night. Martin Steele and Mario had spent the afternoon playing golf off the back dock section of the island. They'd driven out some distance markers and just belted special orange balls off the back of the island, and then taken one of the jet skis to go and collect them. There had been beer and they were both in a silly mood.

It hadn't taken long for April to induce Mario for a massage – starting off by giving his shoulders a massage as he sat, then inviting him to the table, downstairs.

Within ten minutes, she had him aroused. It wasn't hard to do - she knew the places to touch lightly, the right suggestive smile, Mario had been drinking and he barely knew what hit him.

When he turned over and his erection pushed up the sheet, she smiled, and suggested they retire to his room, so 'he could get that happy ending he so deserved".

Five minutes later, and they were in his room and April was examining his cock up close. About six inches – respectable – but it was built like a beer can. It was very very thick, and after looking at it for a second, April vowed she would never be letting this anywhere near her pussy, let alone her ass. It would tear her up something fierce. So, blowjob city it was...

She looked up at Mario, from on her knees and coquettishly said, "Can you take a fast shower? I need to be sure you are clean..."

Mario looked down at her, nodded frantically and rushed off into the tiny bathroom.

While he was gone, April planted the bug, smiling to herself.

And then Mario came back from the shower, and it was show time.

April went for it. It would be a tight fit, but she felt she owed it to Mario to give him the full experience. 

Looking up at him, and never leaving his eyes, she ran her hand up and down his erect shaft, and pushed her nose to him, inhaling his scent. She made murmuring sounds of arousal, and if possible, Mario's cock got thicker, straining in her hand.

She opened her mouth slightly, smiled and just breathed on his cock. She licked her lips, and then stuck out her tongue and just, barely, brushed the tip of his helmet with the top of it. Mario's cock jerked and she drew back, her smile turning wicked.

She did it again, and again, and each time his cock jerked. "Please...." he said, breathlessly, pleading with his eyes.

Eventually, after doing the same thing a few more times, April took pity on him and suddenly engulfed as much of his cock in her mouth as she could. While April could deep throat like the best of them, she could barely get her mouth around the girth as it was; it wasn't going down any gullet, that was for sure.

Then she was into it. Lots of saliva, coating the cock, and occasionally she pulled away, just so she could say things like "I love this cock" and "Tastes so awesome" – she just was putting out the best Slut In Heat impression she could, and she could tell Mario was responding.

Eventually though, inevitably, she felt Mario stiffening up and mewing and she knew what was coming. The only question she had was, would she swallow or not? She had no idea; it's not like she had a policy about it. Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn't.

What the hell.

When Mario first blasted, it came out like a juggernaut. He had some powerful muscles behind it, and he was highly aroused. April could feel it jetting into the back of her mouth, and struggled to keep up with it. In the end, there was too much and some of it dribbled out.

She kept her composure though, and rubbing his legs and cock, she showed him her open mouth, swallowed, then showed him her empty mouth. Then she slowly ran her fingers through the excess on her chin that had dribbled out, scooping it up and feeding herself.

"Yum," she said, licking her fingers clean.

Mario stood stock still, just staring, his cock slowly deflating.

There was silence for a moment, then he said, "I've never had a blow job like that. That was...artistry."

April smiled wanly and got up off her knees and replied, "Well, you make great food. Quid pro quo. Right, I have to go. Another time, Mario."

And with that, she exited stage right, to go to her room and brush her teeth.

Now for Astrid.

Astrid ended up being easier, but more risky. The next day, the other two girls went swimming and while they were in the water, April took the opportunity to go through Astrid's clothes, grab the key card, zip into her room, plant the bug, and get out again. She dearly wanted the time to go through Astrid's things, but she had no idea how long they'd be swimming, and she didn't need to be caught in Astrid's room, with her key card. Way too many questions she couldn't answer.

And then it was the next day, and clients arrived.

*****


The next day, early, everyone was having breakfast when Martin Steele walked into the main social area and said, in a loud booming voice, "Right then, people. The clients arrive today. Need everything ship shape and Bristol fashion. Holiday is over for you guys, it's work now. They'll be here around 2, so lets make sure this place looks good, ok?"

Everyone just looked at everyone else, wondering what, exactly, he expected of them. April was the first to move, getting up and wandering over to the bar to make a token show of cleaning it. After that, everyone else got up and started other menial and mindless tasks.

At twenty past two, they heard the two zodiacs in the distance, and everyone went up to the higher level to watch the boats approach. Within minutes, they were docked, and the clients came aboard.

April watched them as they clambered out of the inflatable boats, ticking them off mentally. First Paula and Mike Woods came aboard, looking around expectantly and with excitement in their eyes. She could see they had a strong relationship – constant comments to each other and little touches and smiles. Paula was a small blond – tight and an exercised body. Mike was larger, and had just the small beginnings of a beer belly, like a linebacker gone to pot. He still had a full head of hair, and was clean-shaven. He looked like central casting's idea of 'everyman'.

Then came Kim and Rashid Patel. Rashid was obviously Indian, but doing his best to fit in with western culture, wearing a suit. He even had a tie on, and April did wonder how uncomfortable he must feel in the sweltering heat.

Kim was an older woman, carrying a few extra pounds, but it was easy to see what a looker she must have been. She still had luxurious hair, styled down to her shoulders. 

April watched their interactions and could see there was friction there. They barely glanced at each other while getting off the boat, instead staring at the artificial island. April noticed that neither smiled.

Then it was the turn of the three single guys, from the other boat. Mark Roschgord, Sal Girodano and Kevin Smith. 

Mark Roschgord was exactly as his profile advertised – the body of a Greek god, a smile to dazzle anyone and, if the details were correct, very little upstairs. A man dedicated to hedonism and with nothing else to say about life that anyone wanted to hear. April could well imagine having multiple twenty-minute relationships with this guy.

Sal Girodano was a stocky swarthy Italian, almost a stereotype. He had a ready smile and seemed genuinely happy to be there, looking around with interest and a gleam in his eyes.

But it was Kevin Smith who immediately raised her hackles, because he looked very different from the Kevin Smith they had on file. There was some superficial resemblance – same height and build, and same basic facial characteristics, but she judged that it didn't look like the same person, as least not as obviously as the rest of the party matched their profile pics. 

April made a mental note to check him out more thoroughly later.

She stared at him for a minute, watching him look around. He looked up and caught her eye and stared back, defiantly. She held the stare for five beats, then redirected her gaze to watch the last two couples come aboard.

The first was Brenda and John Roaker. Brenda was a voluptuous brunette, very reminiscent of the old Hollywood screen sirens. April wondered how long her hair regime took in the morning. Then she looked at John, who had even more voluptuous long hair and wondered the same about him. She'd never seen a man with such thick long hair before.

Last aboard were Bridget and Brad Fleischman. Bridget was a larger woman, the kind with red cheeks, who is always cheery. April could see from her body language how delighted she was to be there, and she was one of those people who laughs at everything they say, whether it's funny or not. The life and soul of the party, even if her behavior was entirely artificial. Her husband, Brad, had the body language of someone who had resigned himself to his situation. But there was at least a little affection in it, a man who was there to make his wife happy, she judged.

They were all now aboard, and the ten-penny tour from Steele was starting. She knew they'd be up in the main deck in a few minutes, so she took up position behind the bar, ensuring first that the three bottles of chilled champagne were chilled adequately, and the three beer pumps were working.

Fifteen minutes later, they started filtering onto the main deck. The current crew was presented, April smiling when she was introduced from behind the bar. She was glad she was behind the bar – it saved all that embarrassing decision on hand shakes or hugs or air kisses or whatever, even more ridiculous when you considered the fact that there was almost certainly going to be gratuitous sex with these people later. Idly, April wondered how it came about. Was it one big orgy on the deck, did they couple off or what? She'd been to a few sex parties in her day, but almost all of them at least had the decency to not pretend to be something else, like this event was.

The bottles of champagne were popped, everyone got a glass and Steele finished up the introductions with a toast.

"To an eventful week. Relax, enjoy the sunshine, soak up the atmosphere, eat and drink well, and make new friends!"

The party carried on for almost an hour afterwards, with more champagne being imbibed, people chatting with each other and getting to know their fellow winners, and the staff provided. April noted that Astrid and Sam mixed and mingled like pros. Even she couldn't have done it better, although she found she didn't need to. Being the de facto bar person meant everyone came to her in the end anyway.

She found, at the end of the night, that there was to be no sex that night. Plenty of flirting, and there was definite intentions on the part of some of the couples there.

She decided that she quite liked Bridget Fleischman, who despite her somewhat artificially cheery facade actually had a personality. She wasn't afraid to say what she thought, she didn't really give much of a shit what anyone else thought of her size, and while her husband definitely looked a little hen pecked, they did indeed love each other.

April did wonder if they really knew what this event was all about, but she guessed they'd find out soon enough.

Of all the other people who had chosen to make small talk with her, she had discovered that Mark Roschgord was a total ass -- completely unaware of how his comments sounded. He evidently thought he was the life and soul of the party, and had no clue that everyone else was staring at him like he'd just stepped off a flying saucer. His clumsy come on's were obnoxious, badly phrased and he had no idea how Martin Steele had had to step in before Mike Woods had belted him, after he had something somewhat appalling to Paula.

Not a great start to the week.

She'd also discovered that Mike was devoted to Paula, who was...she wondered how to put it charitably...somewhat less devoted to him. He'd heard her flirting with Sal Girodano, as well as Brad Fleischman and John Roaker.

She could see that was probably not going to end well, either.

Brenda Roaker was completely under her own control – April could see that she and her husband led independent lives, but together – if that were possible. Both had their own personalities, and integrated together where appropriate, but were separate otherwise. She'd noted that Brenda was courteous, smart, tight lipped and spent most of her time observing everyone else, rather than getting involved in the mingling. She was going to be a harder nut to crack, decided April.

In order that the new arrivals were to start mingling and knowing each other, Martin Steele immediately asked everyone to get into their swim suits, and come back and meet on the lower deck. He had their first challenge!

While they were waiting, April took the chance to chat with Martin.

"So, challenges?" she asked, inquisitively.

"Yeah. They need something to do here other than lie around like beached whales and drink themselves into oblivion," he replied, somewhat exasperated. "We discovered after the first year that people need things to do. Otherwise they will literally just lie in the sun and drink and by dinnertime they are either all asleep or ready to beat each other up over imagined slights. Giving them things to do means they actually have purpose." 

April laughed and said somewhat sarcastically, "And, of course, none of those tasks will end up with anyone in bed with anyone else. That would never happen, would it?"

Martin just gave her a look, and then the new arrivals started returning to the deck and his attention was taken elsewhere.

It took almost fifteen minutes for everyone to arrive. Most of the women were clad in bikinis, except Bridget Fleischman, who was wearing a one piece. To give her credit, she didn't seem ashamed or embarrassed, which April was glad to see. She had courage beyond the norm.

"Right, if I can have your attention please. The way this works is that each day we give challenges to you guys, little games to play so we can learn about each other and have a good time. With each challenge there is a set of winners and a set of losers. The losers have a forfeit – don't worry, no one is going to ask you to eat worms or anything like that – and the winners get a prize.

"The first challenge is a simple one. We are going to take the two zodiacs, and a case of champagne each, and we are going to drop them into the ocean, over there..." Martin waved vaguely at another part of the bay.

"With only what is in the zodiac, and what you can scavenge up from the shore, you need to work out how to bring it up. First one to do so gets to drink the contents when we get back. Losers get to serve the winners. It's as simple as that. Any questions?"




Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 02



There were the usual edge case questions you get from people who've been dropped into a situation and have had no time to think about it, and then they were off.

Just before they left, Sal Girodano came over to April and said, "Um, excuse me, you are the masseuse right?"

April smiled and nodded. "Sure. You need me to go over something?" And then she kicked herself for it sounding like a come on.

She saw this was how it was taken, too, when Sal smiled broadly and said, "Um yeah. I got a kink in my back from the flight. Think your magic fingers could do something when I get back?"

"I'm sure I can work something out," replied April, trying hard not to grin at her own faux pas.

"Awesome," Sal shot back, and as he turned away, he said, "Maybe we can do a massage, as well. "

*****
The event took almost three hours, and eventually the intrepid adventures returned, weary but happy. As it turned out, they'd all drunk a lot so the champagne was put on ice. April and the two other girls had spent the time making snacks, getting the bar prepared and having a couple of drinks themselves. 

The conversation had been banal, and April's estimation of the other two girls had gone down – she caught Astrid making a few astute observations, but then she'd revert to Valley Girl type and make another really obvious comment.

When the travelers returned, everyone trooped off to their rooms to get changed for dinner, although Sal Girodano lurked around, waiting for April to see him and suggest a massage.

She noticed him and just gestured with a smile, and off they went.

It took almost an hour. To her surprise and shock, she did actually find a muscle kink in Sal's lower back. She spent twenty minutes working on it, with Sal moaning like he was cumming again and again. She was quite embarrassed, since when they were done and she walked back upstairs, there were several other people sitting around – Kim and her husband Rashid, Sam and Astrid and Mark Roschgord, already in residence, and she couldn't help but notice the smug smiles directed her way.

In the end, she made herself a drink, and went to get changed herself, her face flaming red. Normally she wasn't bothered by what people thought, because normally it was spot on. This time though, it just didn't feel right.

She returned twenty minutes later, having had a brief shower and changed into a thin mini dress. It was still very hot, even though the sun was down, and it seemed appropriate.

"Tara! There you are!" exclaimed Martin Steele as she walked over to the bar.

"Tonight, we make flaming shots of Sambuca!"

And with that, the evening started.

Steaks were served, conversation was had, April did two massages that occurred off the cuff, one for Rashid Patel and one for Paula Wood. She noted that Rashid had a lot harder body that she expected – he wasn't hugely muscled but what was there was toned and sculpted. And she noted that Paula Wood was extremely tense. She had no idea why – they hadn't gotten to the part where they were comfortable with that kind of conversation. It was all about how nice the island was, how lucky they had been to win the trip and so on. All very comfortable and safe subjects.

With Rashid, she'd seen that he was quite a large man when it came to dick size – he was only wearing boxers when she did the massage and it was obvious he had an erection, although he made no comment about it, so neither did she.

There was a built in fire pit, with ceramic tiles, next to the hot tub, and there was a fire going in it. Mario had marshmallows, chocolate and crackers so they could make smores. There was music playing and the drinks flowed. April was up and down at the bar, making drinks, then sitting down to chat.

She discovered that all the people there were pleased to be there – they'd all heard of the holiday getaway and felt very lucky to be there, all expenses paid.

Eventually, she was sitting with Kim and Rashid, having made them both the best margarita she knew how to make – made with lashings of Patron Silver. They were all enjoying the evening, and she was learning about how they'd met, how Rashid had been brought up in New Deli, but how he'd been born in the US, so he was a full US citizen. How he'd met Kim at, of all things, dancing lessons. They'd had a short courtship and gone straight for marriage. They had two children and her parents were camped out at their house, looking after them. They were just getting into an interesting conversation about them actually coming on the trip – Kim was embarrassed and Rashid was doing his very best to be circumspect, but they were discussing the conversations they'd had about actually going, knowing some of what tended to go on at these events. They were just getting to some interesting stuff about them, early on in their marriage, experimenting at a swing club, and Kim had just glanced at her husband and said, rather cryptically, "Well, it just wasn't really for us, I don't think", when Martin Steele got up and said, "Ok Ladies and Gentlemen. I think we all have a good idea that this is an adult event. And so, for your entertainment, I'd like to reintroduce Astrid and Sam, who will now dance for you."

It was short and simple, and he sat down, picking up his drink as he did so.

A dancing pole came up out of the middle of the floor. April caught Brenda Roaker's eye, sitting opposite her, who rolled her eyes quietly at the sight.

April found herself calculating where the pole actually was, in relation to the rooms underneath, since the pole had to come from somewhere under the floor. It must have been where the small utility closet was. No wonder the room was, as she'd discovered, locked. She'd considered picking the lock with her kit of lock-picking tools she had with her, but she'd never gotten the time alone in the corridor to get it done.

Astrid and Sam ran out from behind the bar, dressed in what amounted to 'naughty school girl' outfits – short tartan skirts, high heels and bunched hair, to the strains of Vanity's hit, "Nasty girl".

They proceeded to put on a quite a show – stripping each other slowly, lots of making out, wrapping themselves around the pole, even some outright fingering of each other.

April was privileged to be sitting where Astrid, lying flat on the floor, her hair splayed out, had Sam stood over her, legs astride Astrid's head, and watched Astrid push open Sam's vaginal lips, running a finger up and down, as Sam pinched her own nipples, eyes closed. April could see the wetness glistening on Astrid's fingers.

It was almost porn, but not quite, mainly, April mused, because there was music and some degree of choreography.

She looked around at the others, noting how quiet it was. Paula Woods was flushed, and had her hands gripped tightly in her lap, eyes shining. Her husband Mike was also staring intently at the spectacle.

Kim and Rashid Patel were sitting close together, and April noticed that, even in the darkness, Kim had her hand in Rashid's lap, gently massaging his erection through his pants.

Sal Girodano and Mike Roshgord were sitting up front, beer in hand, just generally enjoying the vision in front of them, and Bridget and Brad were just kissing each other. Strangely, April found that vision, of ordinary people who loved each other, flaws and all, kissing each other passionately, far more sexy than the rather artificial dancing that she was watching.

The only people who didn't seem to be totally in the moment was Martin, and Kevin Smith, who – she noticed, was directing looks at her that she wasn't entire sure of – and Brenda and John Roaker. Or more to the point, Brenda. John was enthralled. Only Brenda was not. Again, she caught Brenda's eye and Brenda just smiled back, with that slightly supercilious smile.

April returned her gaze to the dance, just as it wrapped up. It ended with Sam standing at the pole, one leg raised around it, skirt raised, and Astrid, on her knees beneath her, clutching at Sam's leg, with three fingers very firmly embedded in Sam's pussy.

To April's practiced eye, it was obvious these two were professionals. They moved and knew about line of sight; she was convinced they weren't just dancers – these girls had done porn. A lot of it, to know the right positions and movements, so everyone could see what was going on, as they evidently did.

There was silence for a moment, Sam and Astrid breathing hard, as dancers do when they finish a set, and then a few hesitant claps. Then more claps, then everyone standing. Both Sam and Astrid stood up and bowed, with that big smile that every performer has when they know they have been appreciated.

Astrid then sauntered over to Mike Roshgord, offered him her fingers, which he licked with absolute gusto.

The rest of the night was slightly more restrained, though not by much. April was kept busy at the bar, everyone was drinking, there was some dancing, and there was one hell of a lot of flirting, April included.

She did think the best line of the evening came from Mike Woods, who, on presenting his empty glass to April, asked "Tara, could I ask you to fill my glass with something Divine? You must be familiar with that, being an Angel and all that?"

It was corny, but well delivered, and it made her laugh.

Mike didn't stick around at the bar, but Kim and Rashid Patel did. They sat on the other side of the bar, watching what was going on, chatting with each other, but not involving themselves with the evenings events.

They were pleasant to April, as she served up drinks, and eventually, during a lull in orders, Kim turned to the bar and eyed April, then said, 'So, Tara, what are YOU here for?"

It was a direct question, and one with a lot of meaning and April had many ways she could have answered it. She was putting some glasses away, hot from the washer, and took a moment to consider her reply. In the end, she decided directness required a reward.

"I'm here because it's sunny, I'm a competent masseuse and frankly, I need to get laid. I was in the right place at the right time. And I'm going to make the most of it." She leaned forward on her forearms on the bar and gave both Kim and Rashid her most dazzling smile.

There was a look passed between Kim and Rashid that April couldn't decipher, and then Kim said, softly, "Really?" in that curious tone people use when they can't quite believe what's just been said to them.

"What do you look for in a partner?"

More direct questions. April couldn't help but notice that Rashid was watching intently, but not involving himself in the conversation. 

"Inventiveness. Passion. Imagination. Ability. Umm... easy on the eyes? Some degree of self control. I dunno. Same stuff as most people, I guess."

April wanted to draw the conversation out. She wanted to know who these people were, if they might be the people she was looking for.

"Interesting. Imagination eh? How about... multiple people? Are you into that?"

April had to laugh. "Am I into girls, is that what you are asking? You seem pretty direct."

Kim just raised an eyebrow at her.

"Sure. Why not. The more the merrier."

Another look passed between Kim and Rashid. 

"We are inventive."

"Are you now. Is that a proposition?"

"Would you say yes if it was?"

"What are we, at middle school here? You wanna fuck?" April was a little exasperated.

"Yes. With you. We want to fuck YOU." Rashid spoke for the first time.

April glanced at him, gave him another once over, and remembering the massage, smiled again.

"Well, lets see..."

She looked around for someone to take the bar over. She noticed Sam leaving with Mike and Paula Woods, and at the same time, Sal Girodano. That would make a cramped compartment, she couldn't help thinking.

Astrid had already left with Kevin Smith and John Roaker – Brenda was sitting talking with Martin Steele. April met his eyes and managed to communicate that she wanted to leave the bar area, and he just smiled back and gave her the thumbs up, then returned to conversation with Brenda.

"No time like the present, then..."

It was a strange seduction, thought April as she made her way to the Patel's stateroom. No one had even touched her yet, yet here she was, on her way to a threesome with them.

When they got into the room, that changed. Everyone just stood and looked at each other, until April took a step towards Rashid, and everything exploded at once.

Rashid grabbed her, and kissed her hard. He turned out to be a damn good kisser, too, April thought. Just the right amount of tongue, control and aggression. Her arms automatically went around his neck, and he crushed her to his body.

They made out for a few minutes, and then April remembered Kim – she stepped back, breathing hard and looked around, finding Kim sitting in the side chair each cabin had, watching, slightly flushed.

She didn't say a word, merely nodded at Rashid, who, in a flurry of arms, disrobed, his cock jutting out when he was done. April glanced at it, noticing it was a full seven inches, and not that thick. Either way, it was something she had a hard time tearing her eyes away from.

"Go on, Rashid. You know the drill."

That was revealing. This was something they'd done before.

Rashid came forward, and ran his hands over April's body. She just stood there and let him. He then undressed her, slowly, taking his time, and making sure his body never obscured hers for Kim's viewing.

April was starting to get a feel for the situation. Kim was the dominant in the relationship, but Rashid wasn't the sub. Oh, he was being ordered about, but in the way someone is who really wants to do what they are being asked to do. Being told to do something they would have wanted to do anyway. He wasn't being ordered, he was being directed. There was a crucial difference.

The entire session went that way, with Rashid not saying much, and being directed by Kim, who remained sitting on the chair for the whole evening. She was quite obviously playing with herself, watching her husband ravish April, and she wasn't above using explicit language – there was lots of "Fuck that girls cunt" and "You like that pussy don't you, you nasty dick?"

For Rashid's part, he was strong, aggressive, though not overly so, and direct. He cared about April, and did the best a man unfamiliar with another woman can do to please her and get her off.

April didn't get the sense he was a wimpy man – far from it – he had an inner strength and calmness, and it was appealing.

It was just a shame the sex, for the most part, sucked.

About half way through, April realized that while these two had their own 'thing', it didn't necessarily extend to the third party. She was, basically, there so they could do their own thing. She was there so Kim could order Rashid around, and he could take it and still get what he needed by being manly and taking what was on offer.

It was strange, but April had seen lots of strange over the years of working for Ingrams, so she mentally shrugged it off and got on with enjoying what was happening.

It was mostly mechanical, though. There was passion, but it wasn't necessarily really directed at her and as such, it devalued the experience.

For April, she concentrated more on the sensations her body felt rather than the environment the act was taking place in. Rashid was pretty good, his cock never flagged, and he had both the stamina and energy to keep it going. In fact, he was more like a machine than a man – he kept up the pumping, never varying the stroke.

In the end, April felt her own orgasm coming, lying flat on her back, head back, making eye contact with Kim. Rashid was on top, kissing and sucking her nipple, at that hard-to-get-right angle, where the junction of where his cock and body met kept rubbing her clit, every time he pumped in. It was just where she needed him to be in order to get her off.

And as she did so, just as she was getting there, Kim leaned forward, and for the first and only time, she pushed Rashid's head off the nipple, and took it between her fingers, and pinched it hard, taking April over the top.

April stiffened and did the body trash that most women do when they temporarily lose control of their muscles, uttering "oaahahhahhahhh" as she did so. April was not always vocal, but it seemed appropriate here, and besides, she wanted to. It had been a while since her last time with Raph.

It was only moments later that Rashid let loose, pulling out and blasting his cum over her stomach and tits. And then Kim did it again – she leaned forward, grabbed April's other tit and cruelly twisted the nipple.

April shouted "Ow! That hurts!" in total surprise. She pushed Rashid off, who was just a limp body anyway, and immediately got to her feet.

She stood, naked as the day she born, a slight sheen on her skin, dripping cum from her tits and stomach, and leaned over Kim, who was still sitting.

Looking down at her, April leaned forward and took Kim's jaw in her hand, tilting her head so she was looking in her eyes.

Softly, she said, "If you ever do something like that again, touch me like that, and try and hurt me, I'll kick your ass all the way back the states. Sit down, Rashid."

She'd heard Rashid get up off the bed, and saw Kim's eyes flick behind her. Kim gave the most slight of nods and she heard him settle again.

"I know you guys have your little Dom/Sub thing going on here, and that's cool, but I didn't sign up for the abuse. Remember that."

She let go of Kim's jaw, not being able to read the look she got back. It was almost yearning, but April just wasn't interested in figuring it out at that moment. She was tired, cranky and just wanted to get back to her own room.

The only thing she was sure of was that these two weren't the source of the bank robberies. They were too wrapped up in their own little games – there was nothing they did that could be used as leverage. 

One couple down, several more to go.

She gathered up her clothes, leaned in and kissed Rashid – who was sitting on the bed, just watching – on the cheek, and left. She didn't give a damn that she was naked – it was only twenty steps to her own door and if someone saw her, who cares?

When she got to her room, she just wiped herself down with a towel, and crashed. A shower could wait till the morning.



Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 03



The following day was a milder one than the previous ones. There was some cloud cover and it wasn't a day where you felt like you had to be undercover every second, or be scorched. Even so, April applied sunscreen liberally. The sun here was ferocious; it didn't pay to take it for granted.

Breakfast was a buffet of salmon and poached eggs and other assorted goodies. Mario had outdone himself. Everyone had made it out of bed by 10, and was enjoying the less brutal morning sun, and chatting amiably. All the women, by now, had dispensed with anything other than brief swimsuits – Paula was topless, as was Sam and Astrid.

Once breakfast was concluded, Martin Steele got up and said, "Well, folks. I hope you all got some rest last night," there were meaningful looks directed around, and more than one person blushed, "because today is activity day. We are spending some time on the water, doing some para-gliding and water skiing, along with a bit of deep sea fishing. See if we can't bring home some dinner!"

There was a dutiful titter and everyone looked at each other, murmuring.

"Get yourselves together, folks, we leave in twenty minutes."

April just sat back and was glad she wasn't going. She was still tired from the evening's activities, and water skiing was one sport she wasn't fond of. She'd been out when in college in Arizona, to some of the lakes in the area, and every time she'd tried, she'd ended up eating water. It was just something she couldn't do, so she was fine with sitting it out.

As she sat back, eyes closed, she could feel a shadow falling over her, and so she opened her eyes to see Brenda Roaker hovering over her.

"Tara? Is there any chance I might prevail upon you in a professional capacity?"

April always marveled at Brenda's vocal delivery. So clipped and eloquent.

"Of course!" 

"Oh, not this second. I'm not going out with everyone. Those kinds of water sports leave me bored rigid."

April couldn't help noticing the qualifying statement Brenda made. What kind of water sports would she enjoy?

"Er, twenty minutes then? Give me a chance to finish my coffee?"

"Perfect. I'll meet you on the poop deck. That's what it's called, isn't it?"

April had to smile at that. "I've no idea. I think that with the way most of the men are here, calling it that might be asking for trouble."

Brenda chuckled as she walked away.

April knew about Brenda, of course. She was an online college professor, for one of the more prestigious online universities, if there was such a thing. Her specialty was digital architecture, and her course went from using some of the 3D packages to design buildings, all the way through to building virtual landscapes for movies and video games.

She was considered brilliant in her area, analytical, cold and unapproachable, but had a wicked sense of humor when she wanted to use it. She was also a ruthless self-promoter, doing talks and interviews whenever she could get within twenty feet of a microphone.

Twenty minutes later, April was waiting by the massage bed, watching the two zodiacs zip off into the distance, after having helped load them with paragliding and skiing gear. Martin Steele had winked at her as they left and said, "Relax. Get some rest. Tonight, we PARTEEEE" in that stupid way that Bart Simpson had made famous.

Brenda stepped into view, and April looked her over anew. Long thick chestnut hair, tall – at least five feet ten, elegant limbs, probably 130, maybe 135, C cup boob that only had a hint of beginning to sag. Not bad for fifty-four, she had to admit. She hoped she looked that good at that age.

She was topless – a first for Brenda on this trip, as far as April could remember, and was wearing a sarong. With the light behind it, it was obvious she wasn't wearing any bikini bottoms either.

Brenda smiled at April as she hopped up on the bed and laid down on her stomach.

April asked, "Any particular areas of tension?" 

"No, just general all over tension. Got a big deadline coming up and I'm a bit tense about it."

April put on some lotion and started in, starting at the shoulders. Immediately she found muscle knots around the shoulder blades. Almost everyone had them, given the junction of muscles there and what the requirements were, it was inevitable.

Working her way down, April slipped into the conversational queries that so many professions had honed to an art – the art of passing the time while doing something tedious. Cab drivers, barbers / hairdressers – all professions who start a conversation with a question.

"You seem... ill at ease here?" 

It was a loaded question. April was looking to see what Brenda would tell her. She already knew a lot from the profiles she'd prepared, and was curious if she'd lie. If she did, she'd know there was something to investigate. 

Of all the people – besides that Kevin Smith person, and she'd already decided she was looking into him later – Brenda was the most standoffish and, for want of a better word, visibly not part of what was going on.

Brenda's reply was muffled. "I am?" 

"Yes. Everyone else is boozing it up and gettin' jiggy with it. You just sit and watch."

"Well, if there was ever a place to people watch, this is it."

April chuckled. She was quite right.

"You don't seem to have a problem getting'...jiggy with it? Is that the parlance? I saw you sneaking off with Kim and Rashid last night. Good time was it?"

"It had its moments. They definitely have a 'thing'."

"Do they, now?"

April began to realize this was derailing. She was answering the questions, not asking them.

"Oh yes. So is John enjoying all this?"

Brenda sighed. "John always enjoys himself. He has no problem doing that, wherever we are."

"Hedonist eh?"

Brenda pushed herself up on the massage bed and looked back at April.

"You see his hair? That's forty-five minutes a day. He's a bit vain, he's very egotistical, and frankly, hedonist is too mild a word."

April just looked back at her – a good silence was necessary here – and then Brenda sighed again and pushed herself back down.

"It would be comical and I'd leave him in a heart beat if I didn't love him. And I do. Despite his needs for his ego to be stroked – sometimes quite literally. I just deal and move on."

"You didn't feel like going today?"

Brenda snorted. "Not really. Besides, while it's a vacation for him, it's not for me. I have three phD thesis proposals to look over and a white paper on First Person Shooter Level Design to get out while I am here. I need to get on with it."

April didn't reply, and just got some more lotion on her hands. Then she said, "You wanna turn over?"

Brenda did, shielding her eyes from the sun, looking up at April. Brenda had a pretty damn good body for a woman of her age, April did have to admit. There was regular exercise in her life, that was for sure.

"Besides, I fancied seeing what you were capable of..." Brenda said, with a big smile. While she said it, she parted her legs a bit, giving April a more open view of her shaved pussy.

April couldn't help glancing down and seeing Brenda's opened pussy lips, slightly glistening in the sun. She stopped her hand motion for a second, her hands on Brenda's thighs, as she looked down at what Brenda was showing her – an obvious and open invitation.

April just suddenly looked around, marveling at her situation. They were out in the open air, on the bottom deck. There was only Mario, April and Brenda on the entire island – they were floating on the water in a bay in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, on a man made artificial island, and she was about to, at the very least, finger a prestigious female college professor. It was surreal.

She refocused her attention on Brenda, who was lying, looking up at April in rapt interest. April carried on the massage, rubbing up and down Brenda's thighs, not saying anything.

She knew the small lines of nerve clusters on the inner thighs, and wasn't shy about stimulating them. Her hands were going closer and closer to the inner thigh, higher and higher, and she could feel Brenda responding to the stimulation. Her breathing increased, and she closed her eyes – her body very slightly arching as April's fingertips ranged over her skin.

April had a thought, and moved down to the end of the massage bed, so she was at Brenda's feet. She leaned forward, draping herself over Brenda, so her hands, outstretched, reached to just below Brenda's breasts. She dragged her hands down Brenda's body, face just below Brenda's groin. As she pull her arms down, her elbows went out, bending, and in doing so, pushed Brenda's knees apart.

She breathed heavily, directing her breath at Brenda's now open pussy lips, glistening in the midday sun.

Brenda arched her back, giving out a small whimper. She said, "ohhhhh.." in small voice.

April smiled to herself. She had Brenda's measure now – at least some of it. Brenda liked to be teased.

So that's what she did. She carried on the massage, paying special attention to the erogenous zones on the inside and outside of the thighs. She was playing Brenda like an instrument.

Every new touch brought a new whimper from Brenda – April could feel Brenda's heart racing and her body temperature going up.

Eventually, tiring of the game, April just leaned forward and jammed two fingers right up Brenda, who literally jumped her body off the massage bed with a large "Omph."

Brenda's eyes flashed open and she just looked up at April, pleading in her eyes.

April looked down at her, careful to keep an expression of lust on her face. It wasn't too difficult, since she was pretty much there, anyway.

She kept it up, finger fucking Brenda, with two, then three fingers, slipping in and out of her very slippery pussy. She used her thumb to stimulate Brenda's very erect clit as she did it, and would have used her little finger to push into her ass, if she'd had the angle on it. She didn't, so she made do. It didn't matter, because Brenda was fast getting off anyway.

Every time she pushed in, Brenda would arch her back, pushing her pelvis up in an attempt to get more of April's fingers in.

She was almost there, when April just stopped. Brenda moaned and looked at up April, the naked lust in her eyes, pleading for release.

April smiled lustfully at her and without breaking eye contact she pushed Brenda's legs apart, and, pulling her self up on the bed, slowly lowered herself so her head was between Brenda's legs, breathing on her exposed pussy. Brenda's eyes widened even wider, the anticipation growing.

And then April opened her mouth and licked, from the bottom of Brenda's very wet pussy, to the top, where she then wiggled her tongue back and forth across the exposed clit. 

And it was enough. Brenda went off like a Roman candle. April hadn't seen many women squirt before, but Brenda did, exploding liquid everywhere. Brenda screamed as she did so, and April couldn't help but look around to see if anyone was going to come running.

After Brenda's body stopped squirming, she was breathing heavily, the sweat beading on her torso and chest.

"That was... wow," she said, weakly.

April climbed off the table and smiled at her.

"We aim to please."

"Well by god, you hit the mark."

April chuckled. "Right team, time to hit the showers, I think."

Brenda levered herself up and looked over at April.

"I have a better idea. Come with me."

Brenda climbed off the table, grabbed her sarong and then grabbed April's hand and led her off to her room.

Once they got there, Brenda pushed April down on the bed and said, "Your turn. Wait there."

She turned and rummaged around in her luggage, before turning, holding up what she'd found and said, "Ta da!"

She was holding a large black dildo, in a strap on harness.

April raised her eyebrows. It was not something she would have expected Brenda Roake to be wielding.

Brenda grinned and said, "John sometimes... enjoys it. Hey, we are all different!"

The last was added a little defensively.

April, with a twinkle in her eye, said, "I'm sure he does. And something tells me I'm about to as well? You did clean it, right?"

"Sparkling. No one likes a shitty dildo," laughed Brenda.

"Well this is unexpected. Not encountered those much in my life," replied April, wriggling out of her shorts.

Brenda looked at her funny, and, as she started strapping the dildo on, said, "You are an enigma, Tara."

April stopped taking her panties off and said, quietly, "Oh?"

"Yeah. You look great, you are obviously educated, you just...look at people. You see stuff. I can see it. You observe and take it all in. You are there, but...apart? You know?"

This conversation was not going places that April wanted to go. She'd already got the information she wanted. Brenda and John were not her perps. You don't get shown a large black dildo and are informed of her husbands delight in being fucked by it if you intend to black mail someone. That would be the reverse.

But still – April was concerned. Brenda was altogether too observant and April was not doing a good enough job of being flighty and having less depth – something to be aware of.

Brenda finished tightening the harness, looked down at April with a lopsided smile and said, "You ready for this?"

April just smiled back.

It was interesting. It was not actually something April had done before – a woman as the man. It was very interesting to note that Brenda and John probably hadn't done it that much, because Brenda couldn't get the angle right, nor could she get the rhythm correct.

She was banging away with gusto, but often it either slipped out, or April had to adjust her orientation and position because the rubber cock was at a painful angle or almost about to slip out. Since there were no nerve endings in the cock, Brenda couldn't tell it was at an obtuse angle.

April got there in the end, to Brenda's obvious relief – even if she did have to assist with her own fingers. Brenda was evidently out to make April's world rock, even if she didn't have the facilities to do it as she really wanted to, and April was touched that Brenda would care enough to want to reciprocate.

When April finally got there – on all fours, Brenda behind, drilling her mercilessly – the both collapsed in a sweaty mess. April happened to glance at the clock and saw they'd been at it for over forty-five minutes. Brenda, seeing her look, also looked at the clock.

Wearily, she raised her head and said, "Well, that was fun."

April forced a giggle, "Sure was for me."

They lay there for a few minutes, just cooling down, and then Brenda got up and stretched, the large black strapon dildo jutting out obscenely, and started to unbuckle.

"You probably need to shower, Tara." She said, stretching her legs once the sex toy was on the floor. April could understand – she knew that maintaining that position and doing all the work when fucking took it out on the thigh muscles, particularly if you weren't used to it, as almost all women were not.

April climbed off the bed, and gathered up her clothes, looking over at Brenda.

Brenda smiled back and said, "I hope you don't think it rude if I ask you to shower in your room? I honestly do have a bunch of work to get done, grading papers and looking over a thesis proposal. I was hoping to get most of it done today while the rest were out. Obviously, I got...sidetracked."

April just laughed and replied, "Not at all. Some alone time is probably what we both need right now. After a good shower."

Brenda came around the bed and met April halfway to the door. She stopped her, and grabbed her shoulders. April, with hands full, just let her.

Slowly, and tenderly, Brenda kissed April. An almost chaste kiss, no open mouth, just a thank you.

They shared a look, then Brenda dropped her arms and walked off to the shower, while April dressed herself, letting herself out of the room quietly when she was done.

Two hours later, April woke in her room, after napping from the afternoon's excursions. She was a little sore, and took a bath in the small sit down bath in her room, using one of the bath bombs from Jessica.

She felt immeasurably better, and was ready for the evening's activities, and she had some ideas about those...

*****


Everyone returned later in the day, tired, but happy. Everyone had that layer of pale grime that comes of spending too much time in the water. Frosted lips and eyebrows were very apparent. There was much talking of events of the day, lots of "Did you see when I..." that comes of group events when people do exciting things.

Everyone dispersed to shower and change, but not before Sal Girodano and Bridget Flieshman stopped April and asked for a massage. She got to both of them before dinner was served. And what a dinner it was. Steak, chicken and lobster, grilled or fried, with white wine sauce and all the trimmings. Mario really pulled out the stops.

This evening's game was a game of trivia, but in teams. However, couples were split up, put together into teams of three, and the trivia itself was varied. Some were questions, some were sequences, where Martin Steele and Mario had set up a screen and projector, and were showing small snippets of movies, then asking questions on them. Of course, all the sequences were suggestive. There was the lesbian scene from Black Swan, with Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis, the food scene from Nine and Half Weeks, the magic ritual scene from Eyes Wide Shut - nothing that was explicit porn, but not far from it, either. All designed to get the pulses racing.

That evening, April cajoled Martin Steele and got herself assigned to the two single guys – Mark Roschgord and Sal Girodano. Yet again, she was struck at how vain and fundamentally unaware Mark Roschgord really was. He was great looking but ultimately vapid. She wondered how, exactly, he'd won this trip. This was an award for up and comers, and he was anything but. He must have some pretty smart people working for him.

She'd targeted the two single guys before moving on to Kevin Smith, simply to get them out of the way. She felt that in the scheme of things, the person she really thought was suspicious – beyond suspicious, in fact – was Kevin Smith, head and shoulders above the rest, then the single guys, then maybe some of the couples. So far she'd managed to remove two couples and the hired help from her list of potential suspects – she did laugh at herself when she realized she'd used that word, even if internally – and now it was time to go after the more higher-value targets.

As it turned out, she basically didn't have to do any chasing at all. Sal Girodano was flirting from the moment she sat down – in a casual and very funny way. Whereas Mark Roschgord just sat there, telling her how great he was, and why he was such a terrific catch. She realized about half way through that he really did actually believe what he was saying – it wasn't an act put on to attract gullible women.

One gem he trotted out was, "Every woman has a different cum face, you know. A different moan. All the women – and there's been a few – have had a different one when they get there." When he said this, he looked intently at April for a second, then looked away. The moment he did, she glanced at Sal and stuck her finger in her throat, like she was going to be sick. Another statement was, "Making a woman cum takes finesse and skill. I've been practicing a lot, and even though I say it myself, I think I'm pretty good." And then he winked at April. When he got up to go to the bathroom, she rolled her eyes at Sal, who grinned back.

"Yeah, he's a bit full of himself, I know. He does have a big dick, though," Sal said conversationally, taking a sip of his rum and coke.

April raised her eyebrows. "And you'd know how...?"




Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 03



Sal smiled back. "We...shared. It was...memorable."

This was the opening April had been looking for. It wasn't hard to feign interest, although actually screwing Mark would be a hard sell. She was damn good herself - professionally trained – and she was pretty sure he wouldn't measure up. But it was worth a shot to see, plus she wanted to get into his head some more. She was fairly certain that a cretin such as he wouldn't be a mastermind behind the bank robberies, but he could also be the world's greatest scam artist. Sex, like playing certain games, reveals a lot, and it might give her more insight into who he was.

Sal, on the other hand, was a definite suspect. He was a little too charming. A little too reticent. A little too laid back. Almost too good to be true.

She even pressed him at one point, between rounds.

"No one at home for you?"

Sal looked away, and said to the screen, "No. Used to be, but her idea of a relationship and mine...wasn't the same."

April was curious.

"Can I ask what happened?"

Sal looked back at her with a tiny frown, stared for a second, then said, "We had a sort of open relationship. We weren't monogamous when we got together, and it was casual. As we got closer, well, we – she – deliberately kept that avenue open. She was up front about it, no sneaking around, and I was free to dabble too. I even did, a couple of times. But then I found out that she was basically working her way through my friends. There's sharing and there's being a town bike. It wasn't for me. We parted. I haven't really been that interested since."

He looked away again, finished.

April considered it. It explained a lot.

"Well, lets just have a great evening," was her not-exactly-brilliant response.

She had to get up several times to make drinks for others – Paula Woods in particular seemed intent on getting blasted, and April started to water down her drinks after her fifth Manhattan.

She noticed Sal and Mark deep in conversation, glancing over at her furtively. She gave them a big smile back.

By the end of the evening, after more socializing - they'd been joined by Bridget Fleshiman and Kim and Rashid Patel at various points - it was clear that both her partners were interested in other things. They kept glancing at each other and making "go on, ask her" motions to each other.

Eventually, just to get to the point, April stood up and said brightly, "Well, I'm off to bed. Anyone care to join me?"

One chair literally fell over as Sal stood up hurriedly, and Mark wasn't far behind.

They made it her room, April walking fast ahead.

She was taking her clothes off as they entered her room; she was naked in a second, and then jumped on her bed, sitting cross legged. She looked at the two men, who were standing next to each other, looking a little uncertain. Normally, they did the seduction.

She looked back and forth between the two men and then said, "If neither of you are going to fuck me, then this is going to be a looooonng night."

Which, as it turned out, was the prompt they needed. Both were naked in an instant, and April did notice that, yes, Mike Roschgord really was quite well equipped. It wasn't far off nine inches, if April was any guess. Inwardly she groaned. Her poor pussy was going to be sooooo sore tomorrow, after the almost non stop action so far.

She reached up and grabbed two condoms off the table and slapped them down on the bed and just looked expectantly at the two men, the statement unspoken but unmistakable.

They joined her on the bed and surprisingly, Sal started out with a kiss – on her neck. Light and feathery. Very unexpected.

Mark went straight for the tits, and was licking and sucking greedily on her nipples, flicking them with his tongue. Sal, however, was taking his time – or trying to, anyway – to warm April up, and she appreciated it.

After a few minutes of groping her tits, Mark got bored and went for the pussy, inserting two fingers, and finding April primed and wet, as she slightly pulled her legs apart to give him better access.

Sal continued on his kissing quest, moving from a heavy duty French kiss, down her neck to her boobs, so cruelly abandoned by Mark.

Dimly, April had to wonder at how good they were in terms of sharing and not getting in each other's way.

She was brought to orgasm by the combination of Marks fingers and Sal mouth on her breasts, and while it wasn't a major one, it was still a good feeling of release.

April realized right then and there, she was as much in control of this sex as she chose to be – she was the target, not the one handing out the experience, and she was all good with that. She'd still have to guide – when two men share a woman, it's a more complicated positional situation than when two women share a man. With two women, there's still only one dick – one woman is less likely to get in the way of another. With two men, who both have penises they'd like to see get attention, it takes a more delicate touch in terms of setting up the positions. April had seen more than one threesome become basically one man, climbing on, missionary style, leaning over and effectively shutting out the other man entirely. It took a woman with some experience to offer up positions where both men get something out of it at once.

And thankfully, she had that experience. 

When Mark – after slapping on the condom - finally maneuvered himself to sink his large cock into April's more than willing – if slightly sore – pussy, she had already arranged herself so her mouth was easy access for Sal, who proceeded to get the blow job of the century. Or, at least, as good as April could give when she was being relentlessly pounded by Mark. 

Mark had no style, but had raw masculinity and persistence – and a larger than average cock. He was all man, all about the pounding and none about any sophistication. And while it wasn't what April would have wanted in a lover for any period of time, it fit the moment perfectly. She was extremely distracted by just being pounded, and surrendered to it twice, before Sal slapped Mark on the shoulder and said, "My turn."

Mark stopped pounding, sweat dripping down his face, looked at Sal for a second, then reluctantly dismounted, allowing Sal to roll on his condom and climb on.

The difference was palpable. Sal was slightly smaller, but his technique was infinitely better. He used slower strokes, he watched April's reactions, and modified his position and approach based on it.

While Mark had been all size and power, Sal was all technique.

April got off twice more – that was 4 now, almost a record for her, and after twenty minutes more of the two swapping back and forth, and them changing positions, she was ready for the coup-de-grace – one in each hole.

She wasn't entirely sure about doing this, but in the end, the lust just simply took her and she wanted to try it, although with Sal in the ass, not Mark. She didn't need to be walking funny the next day.

In the end, she got off once more, and both men blew in side their condoms with a minute of each other.

Everyone was tired, sore, and dripping with sweat by the end of it. The bed was crowded, and April literally just tipped Sal and Mark off the bed, onto the floor and just pointed at the door, smiling tiredly at them.

Mark looked like he was about to say something, but didn't, and Sal just smiled back and whispered, "Fuck of the century!"

April was asleep by the time the door shut.

*****
The next day was one of silliness. Breakfast was casual and late – mostly people eating breakfast bagels with fried eggs and bacon in them. Some people preferred a bowl of fruit, and the division was almost completely along gender lines. It was refreshing to see that no one asked for a beer for breakfast. After seeing some of the guys put the beer away the night before, April wouldn't have put it past them to imagine some of them might have alcohol problems. Two of the husbands did ask April to whip them up a bloody Mary, but she was very light on the vodka. The way she made them, they were more something you ate than drank anyway.

But most appeared to have settled in to the way the life on the Island worked. Most understood what was on offer, and how it should be tackled. Brenda Roaker was still a little standoffish – even towards April, even after the afternoon they had shared the day before - but every one else seemed relaxed and determined to enjoy themselves. Even Mike and Paula Woods seemed to have kissed and made up. 

April's professional eye noticed the small looks and touches that went with a successful marriage. Whatever they had gotten up to the last night, both had gotten something out of it, and it had made them reach out to each other. She did idly wonder if they had one of those marriages where, if everything was great, then everything was great, but when it was not, it was recrimination time. Then she shook herself and went on to make the requested espresso. There's no way she'd know, short of a full-on counseling session, and that was unlikely to happen any time soon.

The day continued, with Martin Steele pairing off people into small groups of two, deliberately breaking up husband and wife partnerships, and effectively holding an improvisation lesson on comedy on the sun deck. He went through some exercises with them, got them to understand what was expected of them, then out came lunch.

April, watching from the sides, was impressed with Steele. He knew exactly what he was doing, how to teach them to act silly, and with his control of the situation. If he wasn't gay, she would have considered having a run at him.

He even noticed her watching, and winked at her, and then dragged her, kicking and screaming, into the middle of an improvisational scene he was setting up.

April wasn't thrilled, but did her best, and to her own surprise, she had a good time, laughing with everyone else at the ridiculousness of the situations Steele came up with. In her scene, she was a shoe seller, who was trying to seduce the guy she was fitting shoes for, without the wife, who was right there, understanding what she was doing. She did remember some of the exercises she had to do when she was initially training for the job of field agent and remembered some of what she had to do then, and smiled internally.

All of the scenarios Steele suggested were risqué, a fact that was lost on no one. As lunch arrived – sushi or teriyaki bowls, for those who weren't sushi eaters – so did the booze. As the afternoon went on, the scenarios became more and more suggestive, and with the alcohol intake, so did the outrageous flirting. By the time the evening approached, it was basically a grown up version of Spin the Bottle.

April was kept busy generating pitchers of margaritas and being a bit actor in some of the scenarios. She noticed that Astrid and Sam were involved in almost every scene, and they actually weren't bad actors – they certainly weren't strangers to the idea of being on stage and performing. One more vote for her theory that they were porn stars.

When the evening arrived, there was no one feeling any pain. The booze was flowing, conversation was happening, cross pollination was happening and April had to admit how well Steele had taken a group of people who didn't know each other, and were a little nervous and uptight, relaxed them, got them flirting and enjoying each other.

For a few minutes, she wondered if he'd make a good field agent. He certainly had what it took. She made a mental note to talk to Dermot about it when she got back.

But, back to the problem at hand. While it had been fun all day, it was time to do something about Kevin Smith. All day, she'd been flirting with him with her eyes, sending him Come Hither looks and generally doing all the things a girl tends to do to show she is interested.

And it was apparent that he certainly was. Lots of broad smiles from him when she made eye contact.

As the evening meal approached, April was asked to do three massages, for Mark Roschild, Bridget Fleischman and Martin Steele himself. He smiled at April as he asked her, "Do you mind Tara? These things always get my back knotted up. Being 'on' all day takes it out of you."

After those were completed, when she finally sat down to eat, surprise surprise, Kevin Smith sat down next to her.

"And how are you tonight, Tara?" he asked, sitting down and putting a full plate of grilled chicken breasts, wrapped in bacon, smothered in BBQ sauce and stuffed with cheddar cheese in front of him.

April smiled coquettishly, and toyed with the remains of the salad she had on her plate. "I'm fine, thank you," she said, in her best 'little girl lost' voice. She'd already decided he would respond best to a more submissive persona than that of a dominant one, although she was ready to switch if that was what she judged he needed.

As it was, she needn't have bothered. 

"How are you enjoying it, on the Island?" he asked, obviously groping for subjects to talk about.

"It's lovely. So much better than home" She sighed, giving him the opening he needed to ask about her home life.

"I would imagine it's better than almost anywhere." He looked out at the sun setting on the water. He was slick. Very slick. Professionally, April tipped her hat at him. He was good. So good, she had trouble believing he wasn't trained. Her warning meter went up a notch.

"So, where are you from Tara?" 

April went into her cover story – college girl, fallen on hard times, doing whatever to get by. He nodded appropriately, even took her hands to look in her eyes at the correct moments. Again, she mentally watched as he attempted a slow, methodical and very smooth seduction.

At certain points, she made a point of looking around, seeing what was going on. In her position, you had to be aware of what was going on, if onlyto plan ahead.

Everyone else was pairing off, or constructing threesomes. It was interesting to note that not one of the original couples was actually still together, in terms of who they were pairing off with. That, in itself, was quite interesting, from a couples counseling point of view, but April forced herself to return to her conversation. She had business here, and she needed to see it through. She was convinced this was the man she needed to get alone, to find out how he was doing the bank robberies, and getting him alone was a delicate task. For what she planned, it had to be done right.

"So, Tara, you've seen what is going on here, right? I'm guessing you are no stranger to this kind of thing?" He asked, followed her lead, looking around at the other groups of people.

April thought fast about how to respond. There were several ways to go – mock offended, "Sir, what do you think I am?", the flirty giggle "Kevin, what must you think of me?", the non-committal response, or perhaps an outright suggestion they go fuck. Many options.

She settled for a simple response, "It hasn't escaped my notice, no." 

He smiled and leaned forward. "And what's your position on it?" 

An obvious double entendre. Very carefully putting the ball in her court, so his response could be tailored to how she answered.

In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought.

"Usually on all fours," she replied, going for the explicit approach. She had timed it carefully; Kevin was just taking a drink and she saw him gag, making her smile.

He coughed a bit, put his drink down and looked at her, re-appraising her. She just looked back, with a very Mona Lisa smile on her face, giving nothing else away.

"I see." He said, after a moment of very obvious consideration. "In fact, that's something I'd really like to see." He asked the last in the form of a question, even though it was a statement.

Not a very inspired line April thought, but it was enough.

"My room?" 

He smiled back at her, the kind of smile where the whole face lights up. 

It was too bad he was a bad guy, thought April, he's cute. And slick.

They both rose and walked to the circular stairs, down to the room deck. The moment they were out of sight of everyone else, Kevin grabbed, her and pressed against the wall, kissing her hard. It was surprising and she felt herself responding, feeling the erection he was pushing into her hip.

It was a full on kiss, full of urgency and desire, and she broke it after a moment later, just to get some air. He grinned at her and said, "That's on account. I'll collect in a bit."

April was not entirely sure what he meant by that, but by then it really didn't matter.

Two minutes later they were in her room. She'd locked the door after him, making a show of it, and he'd thrown himself on her bed, sitting up and looking at her.

"One thing I have to do, " she said, licking her lips at him. And she went to the drawers, where her clothes were, hiding the contents of the draw with her body. She opened the draw and removed the assembled Taser – where she'd put it earlier, preparing for this moment - and with one move, turned and fired at the man on her bed.

The two metal barbs shot out, with the coiled metal filament trailing behind, and hit him square in the abdomen. She was concerned about that for a second – her research had shown that where a taser hit could change the reaction of the victim. Hit them in the wrong place and their bowels could let go. She really didn't need to be dealing with shit everywhere. Thankfully, Kevin didn't let his ass go – he just went rigid and did that muscle dance that people do when they've lost control of their muscles, making an "urrrgggh" noise.

She gave him one jolt, and then pressed the button that retracted the barbs. The Taser would need about five minutes to recharge, and she knew the effect wouldn't last that long.

Quickly and efficiently, she pulled Smith's body onto the bed, and hooked his arms and legs up to the prepared corners of the bed, using plastic ties. Those hooked into scarves she'd tied to the legs of the bed earlier, and artfully hidden, since the ties themselves wouldn't reach. All the time, she was watching Smith's eyes, as they slowly refocused and became aware.

Once she was done, she sat on the end of the bed, holding the Taser, watching him come back to consciousness. The moment she judged he was capable of comprehension, she held up both a pack of socks and the Taser.

"Right, Mr. Smith – or whatever your real name is – let's talk. Or more to the point, I'll talk. You listen. First, make a noise and you'll get another jolt of this." 

She saw his eyes go to the Taser and widen a bit. He didn't want that.

"And then I put these in your mouth. And I've worn them, so they won't taste good." She said, indicating the pack of socks.

"What... what do you want?" he asked, weakly.

"We'll get to that. First, I want you to understand the position you are in. Everyone is drunk and, not to put too fine a point on it, fucking. You scream or make any noise and they are just going to think we are going at it. And when it comes down to it, I can Tase you all I want, and then dump you in the ocean and no one would notice. Or care, I suspect. So, it's your choice. Answer some questions, honestly, or be in pain and die. It's up to you."

The last part was entirely made up, but he didn't know that. She just stared at him, making her face as cold and unresponsive as she could.

His eye's kept going from the Taser, to hers, and she could see enough control had returned to him that he was testing his bound limbs. He kept his eyes on her, hoping she wouldn't see what he was doing.

"What have I done to you? I just was trying to get laid..." there was just the hint of some bluster in there.

April smiled at him, one of her best 'lipless and bloodless' smiles, that didn't reach the eyes.




Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 03



"Oh yes. And doing well, too. Good technique. A little obvious, but then I'm trained. So lets talk about bank robberies. A much more interesting subject."

It was then the wheels started to come off. A puzzled look went over his face.

"Talk about what??" he asked, both in an afraid tone and also with true puzzlement. For the very first moment, April started to doubt herself.

"Bank. Robberies. Oh, don't give me that blank look. We both know that's why you are here. I want to know details. And you are going to give them to me. Or you know what happens."

She gave the Taser a little spark, and gave him the same smile again.

He gulped. "I seriously don't know what you are talking about..." he said, more forcefully this time.

April considered him. Everything about his body language screamed that he honestly did not. He was looking at the Taser and her, imploringly.

"Kevin. Like I said, I don't know what your name really is, but I'm damn sure it's not Kevin. Shall we start with that?"

She got up and immediately his eyes widened and he babbled.

"I'm Tom. Tom Smith. Honestly. Kevin is my brother."

There was silence for a second, as April considered this.

"I'm a grifter, ok? A con man. OK?"

April was taken aback. "You're a what?"

"I'm the black sheep of the family, ok? Kevin is my brother. He...owes me. I pulled his ass out of a bad situation a while back. Then he won this trip and we...I thought, I could go. Free sun. Free booze. Free sex. What the hell. He saw it a way to help me out. No one would know what he looked like. So...here I am."

"Where is your brother? Where is he now?"

"At home. He's holed up till I get home, not going out. That was the deal."

April opened her mouth, then shut it again. It was an entirely unexpected and unforeseen outcome. She made a snap decision.

"Well, Tom, lets see if you are telling the truth, shall we?"

She turned away and dug in her bag for the oversized phone. Dialing, she waited.

"International Exports. How may I direct your call?" she was asked when the call went through.

"I'd like to speak to Mr. Bond's boss please."

Call and counter call for connection to the incident room at Ingrams & Associates. Someone at the office had thought it amusing to use International Exports as the front – the same company that James Bond was supposed to work for. April could only imagine what Jessica would say when she found out this was being used for call sign verification.

A second later there was a click and a voice said, "Hello April."

"Aha, Megan! How are you, babe? I had no idea you'd be on duty?"

"I just got back. Need to decompress, so I volunteered. I'm up to date on your adventure. Honestly, April, you get all the fun ones. How's your tan?"

"Not where I'd like it to be. Megan, so glad to hear your voice. Missed you."

"Yeah my last one...will take some time. It wasn't good. Didn't end well."

There was silence for a moment. April knew what it meant, and she knew that sometime soon Megan and she needed a drunken evening out.

"I understand. I want to hear, but, this isn't the time."

"No, it isn't. Sorry. Yeah, so what do you need April?"

"I need someone to go check out something. We have anyone in Portland? I need something checked a.s.a.p. I literally have someone tied up here while we need to check his alibi."

"This that Kevin Smith thing you mentioned? Yeah, we have a contractor on retainer in Portland when you first mentioned it. Ready to go when you are."

"Ok, so this guy says he's Kevin Smith's brother, Tom. He says he's here in place of him. Some swap deal they have going on. He says his brother is hiding out at his home. We know where that is. I need someone to go find out if he's there or not, and if so, what his deal is. Can we make that happen?"

"Oh sure. Let me take care of it. Might take a few hours. You gonna be ok?"

"Less time the better. It's about 11 here, I doubt I can keep him here till more than about 4 or 5. Any later and I may have to start answering questions I don't want to."

April glared at the man tied on her bed while saying that.

"Oh, should be done way before then."

"Great. I'll be waiting here. Ping me when you have news."

"Will do, April. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

And the connection broke, with April chuckling. What Megan wouldn't do wasn't a large amount. She was even more adventurous than April, and not afraid of situations April would never get involved in.

She looked over at the trussed up man, who was looking at her with suspicion. She realized he'd misconstrued her chuckle, not hearing Megan's side of the conversation. Not bothering to enlighten him, she just smiled her bloodless smile again and said, "Well. Lets find out if you are telling the truth, shall we? We may have to wait a bit, but I have someone checking into your story. We'll soon know if Kevin backs you up or not."

Watching him intently as she said this, there was no sense of panic in Tom – he just relaxed with a very small, very tentative smile.

"Well, good. You'll see I'm telling the truth."

April was sure now. He was telling the truth. She'd confronted him with his story being directly tested and instead of getting nervous and bargaining, he'd just relaxed. It was going to check out, she was sure of that.

Which was a problem. She'd tied him up and shocked him, and while he had been deceitful, he wasn't who she was looking for. Fuck.

But, she wasn't about to let him go until she got the word from Megan. It would carry her façade further once she was forced to let him go. She needed him scared and off balance. While she wanted to, there was zero chance she would apologize to him. To do so would mean he would think he had one over on her, and she needed him to keep quiet. Doing so because he was scared of her would be infinitely better than her putting herself in his debt. 

She got up and pulled out her tablet, pulled out her ear buds and started listening to what the bugs had pulled in while she waited. There was nothing of interest to her mission, although she did find out a few choice things about the couples, and their thoughts on her, "Tara" being one of the keywords the filter software was using.

She was definitely on The List for some of the couples. Only Brenda was wary, but then, from what she could hear, Brenda was wary of everyone.

She looked up a couple of times as Tom tried to engage her in conversation, but just smiled her dead smile, very briefly and then went back to listening to her tablet.

At one point, almost two hours later, he demanded to use the bathroom, and she could see he was serious. She just looked at him, debating internally what to do. In the end, she mentally shrugged, pulled out some scissors and cut off the plastic ties from his legs and arms.

She didn't say a word as she did it, and he didn't either. He just sat there for a moment, rubbing his wrists and legs, and then got up wordlessly and went in to the bathroom. April moved her small chair and put it in front of the room door and sat down with the Taser and the satellite phone in her lap. When Tom emerged from the bathroom, he stopped, looking at her.

She gestured to the bed and said, sweetly, "I hope you washed your hands?"

His eyes narrowed, and she could see the calculation going on behind them, and so she shifted the position of the Taser in her lap, just enough that his eyes tracked down to it. He then just sat down, tentatively, on the corner of the bed.

After ten minutes of the two of them just staring at each other he said, "You can't keep me here forever, you know."

"I know." She replied, emphatically. "But I doubt I'll have to. My good friends are checking out your story and as soon as I hear back, and assuming it's as you say it is, you can go."

He rubbed his wrists again.

"And I'm supposed to what, just say nothing?"

"Oh you'll say nothing, alright. There's no question about that. Just think about this. You are not who you say you are, you are here under false pretenses. Imagine what Martin Steele would do if he found that out. I'm here investigating a bank robbery and you've gotten in the way. That's, at best, wasting police time. At worst, attempting to derail an investigation."

It was all pure bullshit and she was ladling it on with a trowel. She just hoped he didn't dig too much.

"Oh, come on. What jurisdiction do you think you have here?"

"Kevin, Tom, whatever your name is. Who is it that you think I work for?" 

His eyes widened.

"Lets just say it has initials, and a long, long reach. If you really want to find out how long, then go ahead. Scream about it. See what happens. I guarantee you, you won't enjoy it. Not for long, anyway."

There was another silence. She was hoping desperately that he bought her bluff. She was also worried – the longer they sat there staring at each other, the longer he had to think. The more he thought, with her in the room, the more chance there was he would start to poke holes in the whole thing.

She needn't have worried – fifteen minutes later the phone rang. She answered instantly, keeping her eyes on Kevin/Tom the whole time, who stared back, unblinking.

"Hey Girl," said Megan without preamble or even waiting for April to say anything. "It checks out. Our contractors in Portland found his brother, skulking around his place. Took a bit for them to get him to respond, but they yelled that they knew he was there, and they'd be back with a warrant, and eventually he opened up. Turns out they are off duty cops anyway, so wasn't so far from the truth. From what they got from him, it was the same story you were given. So either this is one hell of a prepared set up, or this is real."

"Thanks Megan. What's your feeling on the veracity?" 

"I think it's on the up and up. We've used these guys before and they know what they are doing. They did say he was pretty terrified that he would be arrested for something, even though there is nothing to really arrest him for. Their judgment was that this is sound."

"Yeah, my feeling, too. It could still be a set up, but I think you're right. I think Mr. Tom here just wants to get laid in the sun."

"We gonna tell the client about this?"

"The question of the hour. Don't know. What do you think, Megan? Think the client has a right to know one of his branch managers is dicking him around?" She framed the question back at Megan for Tom's benefit.

He looked back at her, imploringly, mouthing, "Please, no".

She put her hand over the mouthpiece of the outsized phone and said, "What do you think, Tom? Think he's entitled to know?"

It was a shameless use of another lever against Tom saying anything about her treatment of him, and she had no compunction about using it.

"Please... he'd can Kevin. Kevin is the only one in the family worth a damn. Take it out on me, not him."

April regarded him, making a show of making up her mind. There was no real choice here, but Tom was so off balance he didn't know that. She took her hand off the mouthpiece.

"Against my better judgment, lets keep this between us for now Megan. If Tom here breathes a word, then we offer his brother up, ok?"

Megan was silent. She was smart and knew what April was doing. 

"I won't say a thing. You have my word." The desperation in Tom's voice was palpable.

"The word of a con man? Yeah, that's worth a lot." April regretted saying it, since it made her out to be harder to convince than she really wanted to seem.

"Honestly. I won't say a word."

She looked at him piercingly for a little longer, then spoke into the phone.

"Ok Megan. Thanks for looking into that for me. I'll be in touch."

"No problem April. And sorry. I know this would have been nice to put to bed."

"Well, have to keep looking. Thanks again, Megan. Speak to you later."

And with that, the call – and the evening – were done. Silently, she got up, moved the chair and gestured at the door.

"You can go. Remember, not a word. I still have to find the assholes that are holding up the banks."

Tom said, hopefully, hovering by the door, "Hey, maybe I can help?"

"No, thank you. You'd get in the way. Just go get laid and don't bother me, ok?"

He nodded, unlocked and opened the door, hesitated in the doorframe for a second, like he wanted to say something, and then left, shutting the door after him.

April sank down on the bed. She glanced at the clock and saw it was just after three in the morning.

"DAMN." She said, heatedly, then remembered where she was. Better keep it quiet. Walls had ears. In her case, literally.



Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 04



The next day was a blur. Up late because of the late night, she missed the initial breakfast meal. Martin Steele looked hard at her when she showed up at 9:45, but didn't say anything. She had the feeling she would be hearing from him later.

Tom Smith studiously avoided her, not even glancing in her direction.

Thankfully, it was another day with most of the holidaymakers off the island. There was a fishing contest and they were gone most of the day, leaving April time to recoup her energy. She spent some time swimming, some time in the hot tub and even managed a nap. 

The day was a lazy day. One thing she'd been grateful for was that the night before there had been no sexual activity for her – her genitals were thankful for the night off.

Cheap digital cameras where provided after breakfast, to each couple – the three single guys being paired up with Astrid, Sam and April, and they were given an assignment. "Most erotic picture". Basically, they were given the run of the island, plus the zodiacs and jet ski's, and told, "You have till 5pm, then we meet here, and all cameras are to be handed in." 

That night, they would have a viewing party, and all the pictures submitted – each couple got to mark five pictures to be put in the contest – would be judged by everyone else.

It was a clever concept, and after the announcement, everyone just sat, staring at each other, wondering what to do. Some got on it immediately, excited and talking animatedly. Others sat there, dumb founded about what to do next.

Thankfully, Martin had thought ahead and provided each couple with a cheap android tablet, preloaded with some idea's of pictures they might want to try replicating.

After a brief session detailing how to use the cameras, everyone was just asked to be back by 5.

April got Sal Girodano as her other half, and as he sat down in the chair opposite her, she determined that she was seriously not interested in being anyone's muse, and immediately proposed an alternative.

"So, Tara, I guess we need to look through your wardrobe?" Sal said, smiling lazy as he looked at the camera in his hand.

"Actually Sal, I think we need to look through yours," she replied. "I think we need to do something different. You know everyone else is going to be taking pictures of the lady of the group. We are going to do a Mr. September thing for ours."

Sal just looked at her, then, to her surprise, he just laughed.

"Well, ten out of ten for concepts there, Tara. I highly doubt anyone is going to want to look at pictures of me, but what the hell. I'm game."

And that's what they did.

After looking through what he brought in terms of clothes, they loaded up a backpack with clothes and snacks – and most importantly, liquids - and took off on one of the Jetskis for shore - the first time April had been off the island since she arrived.

They spent almost four hours just taking pictures of Sal picking up rocks and driftwood – trying to recreate the famous picture of the male model, stripped to the waist, carrying two tires. There was no problem with replicating the sweat, that was for sure.

While they were there, April and Sal became aware of Bridget and Brad Fleischman, in the lagoon behind them. They were gamely doing their best to take some provocative poses of Bridget, and it was apparent that she wasn't thrilled about it.

As they stopped to take a drink, April and Sal could hear Brad pleading with Bridget to at least let him take a picture or two.

Listening, they could see that Bridget was beside herself – she was upset about her body and how sexy could she really be? It was one thing to put on a good face in front of everyone, but when it came to 'sexy pictures', as she put, it who would want to see those??

April looked at Sal, with a serious expression on her face. "Do you mind just waiting for a bit? I need to go...talk to them."

Sal gave her a brief smile back and said, "Sure. I completely understand. Can I help?"

April looked at him for a second, considering. "Thanks Sal – that says a lot that you'd want to. But no, I think this is something I should try myself."

He nodded and she got up, dusting herself off as she did. 

Brad and Bridget were just over a dune – they obviously weren't aware of Sal and April's presence, and they were mortified when she crested the dune, waving to them.

"Heya guys!" she said brightly.

Bridget sighed, and sat down, pulling a shawl around herself. Brad just stood, watching April approach, with the expression of 'what else can go wrong' on his face.

April arrived and sat on the dunes, next to Bridget.

It was an uncomfortable situation.

"Hey. Um. So.... Yeah. Taking some pics back there. Couldn't help but hear..."

She got as far as that and Bridget suddenly turned and said, "This sucks. I hate this." And ended with a sob.

April was taken aback, but she also knew This Is What She Did. This was therapy 101. She was there, she had the tools and by god, inadvertent as it was, she was going to do something about this.

She stole a glance at Brad, who was standing, holding the camera and just staring at Bridget. It wasn't a hard stare, it was more compassionate but bewildered, all rolled into one. A classic "I want to help but don't know what to do" look.

"So, let me guess. Sexy erotic pictures and you just don't feel like you fit the bill, right? You feel too large to be erotic or for people to find you sexy. Is that it?"

Going direct was always a risk. If you got it wrong, you've just insulted the people you want to help. But this wasn't a therapy session, they wouldn't be back next week and something had to be done immediately, because of the five pm deadline – so April just went in, all guns blazing.

Bridget snuffled a sob and after a second's hesitation, nodded. A tear went down one cheek.

Brad was there, instantly on his knees in the sand, reaching out for Bridget's hands, camera dumped on the ground and forgotten about.

"That's bullshit, Honey. You ARE sexy. To me, you are the loveliest thing I've ever seen."

He sent a venomous look in April's direction.

"Don't you listen to her, Bridge. She's just full of it."

He had mistaken her intent, but that was ok. He wasn't the one she needed to build up.

"Actually Bridget, if anything, I tend to agree with your Husband," she said, matter of factly.

Bridget looked over at her, puzzled, and Brad shot her a questioning look too.

"Look, yeah, I get this has to be a hard thing right? Society denotes that we all need to be five foot nine and one hundred and twenty pounds, with 34d tits, right? And legs that won't quit and an ass you can bounce a quarter off of. That's what all the Victoria's Secret ads show us, right? I'll bet you don't feel like you could fit into that shit or look the part right?"

No one nodded or said anything, so April waited a beat and carried on.

"Well, news flash Bridget. Neither can I. Neither can your mother, or my mother, or my sister, or anyone else I know. No one can. Apart from Victoria's Secret models, and they have to spend all afternoon being made up before they can do it, too.

"It's all bullshit. Sexy isn't what you see in someone's body Bridget. Sexy is what they feel, and you seeing what they feel. Brad!" 

He almost jumped when she turned to him and said, "What is the sexiest thing about your wife? Quick."

Without thinking, he stammered back, "Um... well, it's not one thing. Her eyes. The way they crinkle when she's about to tell a joke. Er, her laugh. The way she scratches her nose when she's thinking. The smile she gives me when I arrive, when she's out with people."

He was warming to his theme now, looking back at Bridget as he talked. 

"The way she puts a finger on my lips when she wants me to shut up. Her heart – do you know, she volunteers for Habit for Humanity? Just...everything."

Leaning forward, April casually picked up the camera.

"I can tell. You guys do look very into each other."

She turned the camera on and tried to get some of the pictures up on the LCD on the back. There were some pictures of Bridget in the water, trying to throw her hair back. They'd gotten the speed of the shutter on the camera wrong and the light was in the wrong place.

"Ok, so you've been trying to do some glamour shots, right? And you just don't want to, right Bridget?"

"Well, I just don't have that body. I've tried but the weight just doesn't go, you know?" wailed Bridget, with some snuffles.

"Yeah," agreed April, "I know how hard it can be."

She had a thought.

"Bridget, what do you do to seduce Brad? What is it that you do? Show me."

Bridget looked around, worriedly. "What? Here?"

"Why not? No one here but us cats!" encouraged April, cringing at her own phraseology.

A small smile appeared on Bridget's face as she considered April's proposal. 

"Ok," she said, a little hesitantly. She looked back at Brad, and gave him a very warm but lavacious smile. "Hey big boy. Wanna come out to play?"

She ended it with her tongue out, just a little ways.

It was what April had been waiting for. The camera was up and she was snapping off picture after picture.

Bridget leaned forward and cupped Brads groin with her hand, looking into his eyes. 

"I think he does."

"You know he does, minx," replied Brad, laughing in that way that men do when it's shot through with sexual desire.

More pics.

"I love you, you lummox."

"I love you too, minx." 

April laughed. "Right. Ok you two, simmer down a bit. Or I may have to go and take a cold shower!" 

Bridget shot a look of almost disappointment at April.

"Ok, so here, look at these," said April, bringing up the pictures she had just taken.

All three crowded round the camera to see them, shielding the LCD from the sun so they could see it. The shots were perfectly framed, and had the two of them, reaching out. Bridget's face was correctly angled, the sun coming down to show the expression she had on her face.

"See, now that is sexy. That expression? That's Sex. Right there. Screw the body and glamour shots and trying to be clever with the camera. That's raw sexuality right there. Bridget, just gotta say it. You know your man and you know what gets him going. So many women don't know that about their men. You got it where it counts Bridget. I envy you."

Bridget looked over at her and looked doubtful.

"Envious of me? I doubt that, Tara. Look at you. All American girl. Who wouldn't want you?"

April smiled back. "Believe it or not Bridget, given what I do, finding a good partner who buys into it all is tougher than you'd think. I can get a tumble any night of the week, sure. Finding a regular guy who wants a relationship? Harder than you'd think."

Not one word of that was a lie and April was thinking of Raph as she said it. Of course Bridget and Brad had no idea of her real occupation, but still, being a bartender masseuse and obvious sex toy to a bunch of horny holiday makers wasn't probably high on the list of desirable jobs for a potential wife as well.

"Look," she said, handing the camera back to Brad, "I gotta get back to my photographer. I suspect he's done peeing by now. 

"Take more pics and just ask her to seduce you. And then, Bridget, you do the same. You take the camera and make Brad seduce you. If you are still bothered by your body, take pictures in the water. Or behind a tree. Disguise it, if it bothers you that much. But remember, it's about the expression. What's in the eyes. Now, I gotta run."

As she got up, Bridget suddenly said, "Who are you, Tara? You are way more than just a bartender."

April looked down and the two of them, sitting on the hot sand.

"Didn't you know? All bar tenders have a phD in amateur psychology! It's part of the training. Ciao!"

She'd said it as flippantly as possible and walked off, not looking back.

She got over the dune and found Sal, stretched out on the sand, taking a nap. He looked up at hearing her approach and said, in a low voice, "That was pretty amazing, Tara. You have a talent for that kind of thing."

April just shrugged, not wanting to get into that conversation.

"Ok, so, where were we?"

*****


As it turned out, Brad and Bridget's pictures came in second in the poll that Martin Steel held later on that day. April's came in third, losing out to Brenda Roakes' set of photos taken on the island itself, with her just in a see through shift. The shots were breath taking, taken with the sun over her shoulder.

But Bridget and Brad were happy with theirs – the crowning picture was one of Bridget in the water, reaching up to Brad, holding the camera.Astrid's pictures were literally a collage of her giving Mark Roschgord a blow job, complete with a full facial at the end of it..

April managed to get away to her cabin for half an hour before dinner – tonight was an Italian extravaganza, and April was idly wondering how Mario was going to make all that food without lashings of Garlic, something that would decidedly put a damper on a romantic evening. No one likes someone else breathing garlic all over them all night. – and make the daily call back to Igrams. She also did a cursory check of the day's recordings, not that there was much, since everyone had been out all day. There was nothing there of value.

Going back to the main deck, April was happy. She was pretty sure, though not totally, that Brad and Bridget were exactly what they appeared to be. It was possible they were better actors than she was prepared to admit, but she doubted it. Which was also puzzling and worrying, since she was rapidly running out of candidates for bank robbery intelligence gathering.

As it turned out, that evening, she got more evidence that Brad and Bridget were above board. April was running the bar and just sitting by herself for a moment, after a rush order of three pitchers of margaritas, when Bridget approached.

"Um. Tara. Do you have a second?" 

"Sure, Bridget. Well done, by the way. I knew you could do it. Remember, sexy is what you feel, not what you look like."

"Yes. Sure. Mind you, it helps if you look like a Victoria's Secret model, though. You have to admit."

"Well, yes. But being on a constant diet is not my idea of a good time, yeah?"

Bridget tittered for a moment, then, looking away, and doing a great impression of someone working their way up to ask something she said, "So... anyway. Um. Yeah, you know this island get away thing? Well, we've seen a lot of people, um, doing....things. You know?"

There wasn't really a question, so April just nodded.

"Well, it's not really our thing to be honest. But, we've been talking and we are here and it's likely this will be our only opportunity, so anyway, you were so nice this afternoon and we were wondering....?"

Bridget didn't actually ask anything, just looked at April anxiously. There was silence for a second and April considered how hard she was going to make Bridget work.

"Wondering what?"

Bridget looked back at April. Then she took a deep breath and said, "If you would be interested in...partying. With us. Or Brad, more specifically. He's really good." 

April couldn't help it. She glanced over at Brad, sitting at the table with Tom Smith, looking back. He smiled at her and raised a glass in her direction. She chuckled. Insecure enough that he sent his wife to ask April to fuck him. Well, she could understand that. For an inexperienced couple, asking something like that could easily backfire, and his ego end up severely damaged.

She pursed her lips, as though thinking it over.

"Bridget? Sure. Why not. It's all in fun. You sure you are good with this? I don't want to cause any issues."

Bridget smiled a school girl smile back and nodded over to the table. "Oh no. If he gets his fun, I get mine, too." She whispered to April.

April glanced back at the table and suddenly realized she meant Tom Smith. That might cause complications, but there was no backing out now.

"Let's get a drink and get sloshed!" said April, quoting a line from Notting Hill, a favorite escapist movie of hers.

And that's what they did. April joined them at the table, and for the next three quarters of an hour they talked, drank, even sang a song, and April did her best to include Tom, even though she made sure he was the recipient of a loaded stare a couple of times. He blinked back at her to indicate he understood, and didn't rock the boat.

She learned that Brad and Bridget had met in a coffee shop, where she'd been working. She'd consistently got his drink wrong and in the end he'd told her that she had to have dinner with him for penance. It had grown from there, and they were married, with two kids back home – grandparents babysitting while they were on the island.

Then, graciously, April thought, Brad made the suggestion, "Shall we adjourn?"

Bridget looked at Tom, then at Brad and then said, "How does this work? Do we all go together? What's the etiquette here?"

April burst out with a laugh and said, "I don't think there are any rules, Bridget. You want to share or do your thing in private?"

Bridget leaned over to Brad, kissed him hard on the mouth and looked in his eyes and said, "You sure you are ok with this honey? Last chance. We can still back out."

Brad, characteristically, just smiled back, nodded his head and said, "Be happy. Come back to me when you are done. And don't have too good a time, ok?"

Bridget patted his hand and said, "Never, lover. You are everything and you know it. I love you even more for letting me have this." She glanced back at April and said, "Make him happy, please? But not too happy."

And then Tom and her got up and left, without looking back.

There was silence at the table for a moment and then April said, "Shall we?"

The rest of the evening was a blur. 

They made it back to Brad and Bridget's room – Bridget was nowhere to be found – and April had no idea what to expect.

She literally just got into the room and looked at Brad.

And he just started in. There was no preamble, no chat, no warming her up, he just went straight for a kiss, and while it was slightly awkward at first, she found herself warming up very quickly. Very fast, in fact.

Time passed, with them just making out, but to April, it didn't feel like time was passing at all. Brad, it turned out, was very good at making out.

Slowly, but surely, his hands wandered over her body, and it only served to make her hotter. A touch here, a finger there, a small grope – nothing prolonged, everything fleeting, sometimes a brief touch, sometimes a twist. It was, April thought later, a master class in getting someone hot and bothered. And it worked. April felt she was well trained and well versed in the art of physical seduction, but what Brad was doing was as exemplary as it was unexpected. Brad, it was turning out, was one hell of a lover. And he hadn't even taken her clothes off yet.

Twenty minutes later, and April was as ready to be fucked as she had ever been in her life. Brad had slowly peeled her clothes off, resisting all attempts she had made to reciprocate – gently but firmly taking her hands off him – and she was beyond horny at this point. And at no point had he actually said a word.

It was a totally different Brad that was on the bed with her than she'd seen at the beach that day – he was confident, knew what he was doing and just got on and did it.

An hour later, April's heart was fit to burst, she was panting, and her muscles were cramping from the onslaught of orgasms. She'd had five so far, each greater than the last, and she wasn't sure she'd survive a sixth. And Brad had yet to come, and wouldn't even let her touch his penis, let alone do anything back to him.

She'd tried, after the first orgasm, but he'd gently pushed her back down on the bed, and said the only words he'd said since they got to the room – "No. Tonight is all about you." And that was that. So much for 'making him happy', as Bridget had asked.




Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 04



He'd started out just kissing her all over, from her feet to her neck. He'd sucked her toes – something she'd come across a couple of times before and it had never really done much for her, but in the circumstances, it was strangely alluring to her.

He'd licked her armpits – something she'd not had happen before and she still wasn't sure about it.

He'd breathed on her pussy, taking his time to never actually touch it. He'd stroked and teased all around it, paying special attention to the inside of her thighs, but left it alone till April was almost begging him for release.

When he had started paying attention to her nipples and clit, he'd played a master class of orgasm denial, fingering her, getting her almost there, then stopping. The starting in the oral, licking her pussy, then going from asshole to clit, and back again, waggling his face and tongue on her labia, the whole deal.

When she had come the first time – when he'd finally allowed it – she just exploded with the kind of toe curling orgasm she didn't see very often. She thought that was it for the night, now it was her turn. 

But then the actual fucking began, 

again though, done in silence, apart from the heavy breathing and various moans both made. He'd had her in every position she could think of. She'd come sitting astride him, on a chair, kissing him while he bent her body so her clit rubbed against his torso as he rocked her back and forth.

She'd creamed on his cock, on all fours, while he worked her asshole with his middle finger.

She'd screamed when he fucked her missionary, holding her own hand down against her clit, trapped between them, and moving only because he rotated his body against hers, moving her hand as well.

By the end, she was spent. Fulfilled but spent. And he still hadn't come.

She suspected he'd been trained, but where and when... it was unexpected but, for her, welcome. To meet someone with such skills...she was envious of Bridget. 

Although she also noticed that while it was a good time, she was in no way in thrall of Brad. He was too cold. Too distant. Too...uninvolved, that was the word. More to the point, he was unavailable. He was making that clear.

But he was good, there was no denying that, either. 

It was just a shame that April didn't get to show any of her own skills. Still, nice not to have to.

Finally, he did cum. A geyser, all over her chest. She looked inquiringly at him when he'd done it, and he caught the gaze and looked a little crestfallen and said, simply, "I just didn't want to cum in anyone but Bridget. That's for her alone."

Another surprise. April did manage to say, "I understand. That's very sweet. Your wife is very very lucky."

He gave her a tight smile, and there was an awkward silence for a few moments, before Brad got up off the bed and went to the bathroom, returning with a face towel, that he offered to April.

She smiled at him, smiling internally at his social awkwardness, and she cleaned up his cum, resisting the urge to actually lick some up and taste it.

In the end, she got up and got dressed, not knowing quite what to say. He just lay on the bed, naked, watching her.

She finished dressing and leaned down to him and gave him a long, slow kiss on the lips, no tongue.

When she was done she said, "You are pretty damn good there Mr. Flieshman. Very impressive set of skills. I need to hit the sack and sleep it off. See you around, sir."

And she left the room, went to hers, and just crashed, tired beyond belief.

*****


It was the next evening when the real break came. Or, more to the point, the next morning. April had woken a little earlier, mindful of the previous days when she'd had to shoe horn time to review the night's bug recordings. As the previous days, there was a lot to get through, and she needed to do it now.

She drifted out in her robe, set the coffee maker going in the bar and then plugged her earphones in and started the auto sift of what the android tablet had recorded, taking the risk that someone would join her and ask what she was listening to. She had a movie queued up in one of the movie app's to switch to if she was asked.

It took about twenty minutes to listen to, and as she did so, she had coffee and watched as one or two of the recipients of the previous night's largess struggle out into the sunshine and also consume coffee. No one was speaking to each other, except Brenda and John Roaker, who were speaking quietly to each other, body language speaking louder than words. There was definitely going to be a reckoning sometime later, that was for sure.

It was when she got to a recorded conversation in Astrid's room that it all started to come clear.

"So, where we at?"

"I got the pics so far from three of our events. That should be enough, unless you want to go for a forth?"

"No. Wait, maybe. Three is good, four would be better. Who should we go for?"

"How about that Brenda and her husband? She's a snooty bitch. Would be good to take her down a peg or two."

"Sam, you need to not be vindictive. But yeah, I get your point. Ok, we'll go for them tonight. Is the camera still set up?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Because, dear Sam, I wouldn't put it past you to take it down just to look at the pictures."

"I would never..."

Thwunk.

"Let that be a lesson to you!"

April guessed that last noise was the sound of a pillow being swung and connecting, since the last statement was made in a very playful tone.

There was one more comment the machine had caught – "We need to be sure we can get the bar duty on the last day. Need to get that Tara chick out of it, so we can do our thing."

It was a vague comment and April was unsure what it meant, but it was obvious to April there was some camera work going on here – some recording of events. That warranted closer investigation. April was undecided on whether to bring in the con man as backup, or just go for it herself. In the end, she decided it would be better to hold Smith in reserve, once she knew more.

The day was a lazy one. They did breakfast late, and in the afternoon Martin took the couples to the beach via the zodiacs boats, and set them on a scavenger hunt, to find specific items in the under growth there. Some he'd planted earlier, some were just natural.

While they were gone, April took the opportunity to both use the hot tub – dropping in another of the bath bomb concoctions her boss had given her, for which she knew she'd catch shit later – and to make a call and check in.

When putting the salts in, she noticed Astrid and Sam watching her and giggling. She noticed they'd already started drinking – both had a glass of something colorful in their hands. April made a mental note to look at the bar later, since she hadn't made those drinks. 

She caught their eye, and they raised her glasses to her. Sam got off her chair and came over and asked, "What'ya doing Tara?"

April paused in dropping the bath bomb into the hot tub and, embarrassedly, said "Something that's supposed to help with the...soreness." She avoided eye contact on the last word.

"Oh!" exclaimed Sam. She glanced back at Astrid and then said, "Could...we borrow some of that? I totally get where you are comin' from. We...have the same issues. We've just been popping Tylenol instead..."

April eyed Sam, thought for a second, then said, "Sure. I'll drop some later. Once I'm done here. Cool?"

Sam smiled her innocent smile back and said, "Cool! Thanks!" and then skipped back to her seat with Astrid.

April was sore from the almost non stop sex, and half an hour in the hot tub did wonders for her throbbing genitals, at which point she reluctantly got up in order to avoid skin pruning, and wandered back to her room. The whole time she'd been in the tub, Astrid and Sam had sat, quietly chatting and occasionally looking over at her. She was surprised they hadn't joined her in the tub.

When she got back to her room, she pulled out the phone and connected up.

"Hey April, how's it going?" asked Simon Miles, after the initial connection was made. April marveled again at the technology she was privy to – Simon sounded like he was in the next room. There was no delay, no echo, just clear voices.

"It's going. Hey, thanks again for your help the other night. I still don't know what to do with Kevin at this point. Just leave him be I guess. But thanks for being on call and getting back to me so soon."

"You're welcome. Any leads on anyone else?"

"Just one. I heard some of the other stripper girls talking about having pictures of people. Could be innocent, but I doubt it. They've been taking different couples back to their rooms every night, I think, and what kind of pics are taken when you are all naked? Could be some kind of sex blackmail I suppose. But it seems a bit on the flimsy side to be honest. What if people can't be blackmailed, or aren't ashamed?"

"Yeah, that was the first thing that sprung to mind here too, old thing."

April grinned. Simon was British – a transplant when he was seventeen. But he could still turn on the accent whenever he pleased.

"I'm not a 'thing' Simon," she deadpanned, playing a bit with him.

"Oh sorry April. Didn't mean to...Oh. Fine. That's what we are playing are we?" he responded, understanding her meaning.

"So, if it's only sexual blackmail, they've got to be doing some pretty devious things in there to blackmail them with? I mean, to go so far as to rob a bank?"

"I'd say so. Any goats on board?"

"You have a disgusting mind Simon. I knew there was a reason I liked you. No, not to my knowledge."

"So what's your plan?"

"Well, there is only one thing to do – after all, there is only one more day here."

"What's that, old bean?"

"Seduce them."

*****


The night rolled around, and it started low key. Couples drifting out of their rooms, wearing little to nothing. Brenda Roaker was wearing a sundress that was basically see through, and she was obviously not wearing anything underneath it.

John Roaker was wearing shorts and had ignored a shirt.

Bridget Fleischman was wearing a wraparound dress. April approved. While Bridget was a larger lady, she knew it and she was wearing outfits that slimmed her – she was doing the very best with what she had and April was full of admiration for her for her ability to both do that, and not give a shit what anyone else thought.

Her husband Brad was wearing pressed Khaki shorts and a white button down T shirt. Not a good combination in the ever present heat, and he was already perspiring through it under the armpits. 

She'd given a massage to both Brad and Bridget that afternoon when they'd returned from the day's events, and she'd been surprised at how hard the muscles were on Brad – even from the night before, it hadn't been apparent, but this was a man who worked out.

Sal Girodano and Mark Roschgord appeared next, coming in together and deep in conversation about some sporting event.

Paula and Mike Woods arrived. She was in full on slut mode, thought April, observing from behind the bar. Interestingly, Paula was the one person she had not given a massage to. Paula was too interested in talking to the other male members of the party. The body language was not good – definitely trouble in paradise there! thought April.

The last of the couples, Kim and Rashid Patel wandered out. April noticed how Rashid was still doing his best to fit in. He was wearing long trunks and Kim was wearing a see-through dress over her bathing suit. It was obvious she was more comfortable than he was, although his physique was something to behold. April knew he worked out – she'd felt his muscles and had first hand understanding of his stamina. She winced at the thought.

Then came Tom Smith. He glanced at her, hesitantly, then went and sat by himself, observing everyone else.

Mario was cooking on the grill, and Martin Steele had produced an acoustic guitar from somewhere. It had all the makings of a slow, social evening.

And it was. April alternated between massages and running the bar. Various people paired off – April noticed that Kim had vanished and Mark Roschgord had also disappeared. Rashid was deep in conversation – and some mild flirting – with Brenda Roake. John didn't appear to care, because he was deep in conversation with both Astrid and Sam, both of whom wandered off with him after a suitable amount of time.

Tom sat in the hot tub talking with Sal for an hour, who then left and went to talk to Kim and Rashid Patel, who then themselves also disappeared for half an hour.

People came and went all evening. April herself, kept still, apart from one sojourn with Paula and Mike Woods. She'd been sitting at the bar, chatting with Martin, and they'd literally just come up, stood either side of her, looked meaningfully at Martin, who'd taken the hint and left, and then literally, just asked her if she had time 'for a private massage?'

She'd sat there and wondered what to do. She had plans and wanted to be fresh for them. But still, she'd not experienced this couple and she mentally debated what to do. She was pretty sure she knew what she needed to do for the mission, but she was here, they were asking, she'd partied with almost everyone else, so in the end, she mentally threw a coin, ignored the result and smiled brightly and said, "Sure!" She put her drink down, jumped off the stool and went off to their room, arm in arm.

The experience itself was more anticlimatic than she had expected. It wasn't that either Mike or Paula was bad – Mike was well equipped and Paula was certainly no stranger to eating pussy. It was just...they didn't fit well together. They had different rhythms, angles, and just couldn't seem to ignite the passion and lust.

At one point, she was sandwiched between Mike, who was pounding her from the back – wearing a condom, she had insisted on that – and Paula, having her face pushed between Paula's open thighs. Paula was crouching, rather than lying back, so she could see April's face being pushed in, and April had to actually stop and ask John to move his stance slightly – his cock was at a precise angle that when he pushed in deep, it hit April's cervix and it was a very uncomfortable feeling, even painful a couple of times.

Then, April had been inadvertently leaning on Paula's hair later on, while Paula was being pounded by Mike, and April did have to admire his stamina. He wasn't in Rashid's class, but he was significantly better than many she'd had.

There were lots of start / stop moments, and eventually it became clear that, at least for specific moment, Paula and Mike were more interested in each other – they got into the missionary position, and April was effectively left to her self to watch, and at that point, she just got up and left them to it, counting herself lucky that it hadn't been a more intense session – she wasn't sure her pussy or ass would be up to it. Plus, it was nice to see them actually connecting. It was apparent that they were very sexually compatible, but driven by jealousy to ignite that lust.

Around midnight, the party started winding down. People were leaving and not coming back, and it was by mutual decision that almost everyone had retired, leaving April to shut down the bar and Astrid and Sam to clean up.

In the end, it was just Mario, Martin, Astrid, Sam and April at the bar, having a slow nightcap. April gave each a generous measure of Grand Marnier, something appropriate for the end of the evening.

They sat and chatted, for a while, then Mario left, and after a bit, Martin did too.

It left April, Sam and Astrid.

"To one more day of these...people" said Astrid, raising the last of her glass.

"I'll drink to that," replied April, matching her.

Sam also raised her glass, and then they all downed the last of their drinks, feeling the warmth trickle down their throats.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, then Sam said, "Jesus, I'm sore."

They all giggled at that and April ventured, "God, me too."

Astrid sucked on her teeth and said, "Well, it's for a good cause." She paused and said, "The good cause of getting paid."

"Amen sister," replied Sam, clinking her empty glass with Astrid's.

April had both hands in front of her, leaning on the bar, glass between her palms, running her hands back and forth so the glass spun in her hands.

"I gotta tell you girls, I don't think I could look another cock in the face."

Astrid snorted.

"I need...something...softer, you know?"

April's eyes were focused on the glass, but she was aware of the sudden shift in attention.

"Do you now?" said Astrid, softly.

April very slowly raised her eyes to Astrid's and murmured, "Yes"

It was classic little-girl-lost seduction 101. April knew it, Sam knew it and Astrid knew it. But somehow, it didn't matter.

There was tension in the atmosphere, a sort of elastic electricity. April had asked without asking and was waiting for an answer. It must have been the end of the five day event, the tiredness, the alcohol, but for some reason, everyone was on edge. There was sexual tension everywhere.

Astrid licked her lips, and shot a glance at Sam, who was looking at April, entranced.

There was silence for a moment, then Sam reached out for April's hand and said, quietly, "You have such great hair, Tara, and lovely skin. So smooth."

She ran her hand over the back of April's, and up her arm. April's skin goosebumped and she shivered involuntarily. She did wonder at that. Wasn't she supposed to be doing the seducing here? It looked like she didn't have to.

Sam leaned in, look April intently in the eye, and breathed deeply around where her ear met her neck.

"..and you smell lovely, too. How do you do that? Hmmmm.."

April sat stock-still. She didn't need to do anything – just see where this was going, although she had a pretty good idea already. Besides, she was so horny and turned on at that moment, she didn't think moving was a good idea. She might do something very impulsive.

Sam pulled back a bit, re-established her eye lock on April, and then just leaned forward, very slowly, and placed her lips on April's.

There was electricity. It was a simple closed mouth, chaste kiss. Sam leaned back a bit, licked her lip and sent a darting look over at Astrid, who was staring, stock still, like April.

"She tastes like strawberries. So nice. Just like I thought."

And with that, she turned back at April, and leaned in for another kiss. This time, however, was anything but a chaste kiss.

It started chaste and then lips were opened, tongues started darting, the two girls hungrily devouring each other.

The kiss grew more intense, Sam's hand coming up to cup April's head and force into the embrace. April had no problems with that. There was a fire in her loins that she was unprepared for. April had had lots of sex in her life, with men and women and combinations thereof. She knew the in's and out's – so to speak – intimately. She knew about seduction, but this was a first for her – where she was not 100% in control of her reactions or at the very least able to stop them if she wanted to.

She knew she was going to be fucked that night. Fucked by a woman, possibly two, and she was going into it willingly. More than willingly. She wanted it.

Sam and April broke the kiss – April panting slightly, flushed. Sam's glance flicked across to Astrid, who was now openly rubbing her crotch.

"My turn," smiled Astrid, wickedly, pure lust showing on her face.

Sam leaned back, and April just sat there as Astrid pushed back her chair and sauntered over to stand in front of her. She stood, looking down at April, examining her and taking in every detail. Then she leaned forward and took Aprils face in both hands, using just enough strength to pull April off her chair and make her stand in front of her. They were of similar heights, so they were eye to eye.




Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 04



Astrid pulled April's face to hers and pushed her lips onto April's waiting mouth.

April was on fire, almost literally. She was dripping under her shorts, and her skin felt like it was going to melt. She was so horny, she felt she might burst.

She knew from reason that what she was feeling was a combination of endorphins and various chemical rushes that her body produced under extraordinary conditions- the past few days, the sexual activity, the evening, the drinks, her own decision to seduce these two, but still, while she was in the grip of it, it was all academic. She needed to be taken to bed and fucked. And she was going to.

Astrid kissed April, grinding her face into April's, with full porn face on.

April responded in kind, her hands going around Astrid and pulling her in. She vaguely heard Sam say "Go on Astrid, kiss that bitch," and didn't care.

The kiss went on, April hungrily grabbing at Astrid.

Eventually Astrid broke the kiss, and pulled back, eyes wild.

She glanced at Sam and said, breathlessly, "My room. Now."

Grabbing April by the hand, Astrid dragged her through the corridors of the island, Sam close behind. She freed April enough to unlock her room door, pushed April in, and followed her. Sam stepped in last and closed the door behind her.

They all three just stared at each other for a second, and then it began in earnest.

First Astrid, then Sam, grabbed April and kissed her, hard. April's knees were weak with desire. She was aware she was responding abnormally, and a part of her wondered if this was really who she was? Was she really a closet lesbian? But then Sam kissed her again, grabbing a breast through her T-shirt and all thought fled.

The clothes came off in a tumble. April pulled her own shirt off, but that was all she remembered. Either Astrid or Sam pulled off her shorts and panties, and April had no idea how the bra came off.

Astrid and Sam were suddenly naked too, and there was frenzied grabbing, touching and licking of every body part they could get to.

Afterwards, April wondered how orchestrated it was. There was no organization of positions, as there so often was during the act of sex. She was just on one position one moment, ass raised, on all fours, with her head buried in Astrid's pussy, and Sam frantically tongue fucking her ass, the next she was on her back, with Sam sitting on her mouth and Astrid shoving two fingers in her pussy, her little finger in her ass and her thumb rubbing April's clit.

The positions just moved around, with no one saying anything beyond simple phrases like "Yeah, like that," or "More, now, do it now", just lots of heavy breathing and moans.

To say April was aroused was like describing Niagara Falls as 'a bit drippy'. She was on fire. And, when the moment presented itself for a breather, she wondered at it.

She was thirsty and had dry mouth and it was the second time she got up for a drink of water that she put two and two together. 

She'd been fed Ecstasy. This was classic biological response to E. She snorted the after the second drink, realizing what these two had done to her.

She mentally shrugged. It didn't matter that much at that precise moment – it was in her system and she was reacting to it. She was partially pissed that she'd fallen for it – but no one could be 100% observant 100% of the time. She'd not noticed it being put in her drink, that was for sure.

Either way, though, it didn't change anything. She still wanted to get in this cabin – and she'd done so. Even if it meant being so rampantly horny she could have fucked a rabid horse at that precise moment. It did make her feel a little better though – she wasn't a lesbian. She was just artificially horny.

"Tara...come back to bed..." she heard a plaintive call behind her, suddenly cut off by a hard moan.

Behind her, the two girls lay intertwined; Sam's hand was gently fingering Astrid's clit, making her jump every now and then.

They were both looking at her, and smiled back. She wasn't done yet. Putting down the glass of water, she walked back to the bed.

For the next hour, the women pleasured each other. No hole was off limits.

After having Sam bite on her nipples while Astrid brought Sam to orgasm from behind, April knew she'd be marked for a while from that act – Sam almost drew blood. 

At another point, April was on top of Astrid, in the missionary position, with a double-ended dildo, one end deep inside her and the other in Astrid. She was attempting to fuck both herself and Astrid at once, as a man does for a woman. It was sensuous, but hard to keep the right angle. More than once she'd almost gotten off only to have the dildo slip to the wrong angle. It was made worse by the tongue in her ass from Sam – trying to balance all the sensations was hard.

Later, she watched Sam and Astrid use dual double ended dildos on each other, both on all fours, facing back to back – each sharing a dildo, one in their pussies and one in their ass. Both were completely out of it – eyes screwed up as they concentrated on the feelings they were experiencing. At that moment, April realized they were probably hopped up on Ecstasy too.

But, as with all things, eventually the body got weary. The non-stop orgasms were too much to take.

First Sam dropped out, rolling over and just closing her eyes, then Astrid closed her eyes for a moment and just never reopened them. April struggled to stay awake, getting up and splashing water on her face to keep herself going.

This was what she'd wanted, albeit not in ideal circumstances. Searching a room with the occupants asleep in the middle of the bed was truly sub optimal, even if she was sure they were dead to the world. Plus she wasn't sure of what she was looking for, beyond a camera memory stick. And it could even be in Sam's berth. April was bone tired, but she needed to get the job done.

In the end, it was almost too easy. She found a small wooden box in the bottom of Astrid's suitcase. In it was a camera SD card, and a small pack of six vials, filled with a colorless liquid. She looked at them for a moment, then pocketed them.

She'd already found the camera they'd used and checked it to see if it had any pictures on it, but the memory card in it was empty. She quickly slipped it out, and put in the one she'd found and bingo, up came almost three hundred pictures of various of the other couples in compromising positions – some with a dildo inserted, even with some of the men. She'd struck pay dirt.

Taking the risk, she placed the empty camera card in the wooden box and replaced it, knowing they'd still notice the vials were missing. There wasn't much she could do about that. Unless... She looked around the room, looking for something she could decant the vials into.

Eventually she found a Ziploc baggie that held some pills – yellow capsules that April was pretty sure were fish oil. She dumped out the tablets into the toilet, then poured each of the vials into the baggie, being very careful to seal it as best she could – she'd do better later in her cabin.

While she was doing it, she heard Astrid snort and turn over and bang her hand on the side of the bed frame. Freezing, and hoping against hope that Astrid didn't wake up, she waited for Astrid's breathing to settle again. After three or four very tense minutes, it did, and April finished emptying the vials.

She then refilled them with water and then put them back in the wooden box, along with the camera card.

Gingerly holding the baggie, she looked around the room, looking to see if it was obvious she'd been searching. Satisfied she'd put everything back as she found it, the last thing she did was remove the bug and then opened the door as quietly as should could, stepped through then closed it again.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she tiptoed across the corridor to her room, opened the door, and pausing only to find something to put the baggie with vial liquid in – a small hard soap case used for traveling, she passed out on her bed.



Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 05



The next day was leaving day – in the morning for the clients and the afternoon for most of the staff.

April had made her check in call as the second thing she did after she woke up, eager to pass on the news of what she'd learned and what she'd found. Before making it, she pulled out the android tablet and pushed in the memory stick she'd taken the night before, to check out more of the pictures.

She saw enough – and in detail this time – to be sure that there was definitely blackmail material on it. She was still puzzled that just pictures of people being sexually adventurous was enough to push them into betraying the purpose of their careers – it just didn't seem enough – but what was there was definitely of that type.

All the pictures had what popular culture would consider deviant material in it. Most of the men had a dildo shoved up their asses or the equivalent. The women were pictured either with their faces and tongues in Sam or Astrid's pussy or asses. Faces were clear and it was obvious they were doing what they were doing with relish.

April felt it was highly likely they were high on E – as she had been the night before – but that wasn't evident from the pictures as she saw them.

After running through all them, she picked up the sat phone and called Ingrams.

"Hey guys..." said April, after giving the hail and counter hail.

"April. How's it going?" asked Simon Miles.

"Simon. Good to hear your voice."

"We were on standby all night by the way, in case the grifter turned out to be our blaggard. I don't know if Dermot told you?"

"Yeah, I heard. Thanks for having my back, Simon. I owe you one."

"I'm just glad you didn't need us. Would have interfered with the fishing here." April could hear the smile down the phone.

"So, I think I got this. I'm pretty sure it's the two escorts here. I've got audio of them talking about what sounds like blackmail material, I've got a camera memory stick with some pretty racy and compromising pictures on it – well, by bank manager standards, anyway. "

"You sure about this, April? We've had one miscue..." Simon was being cautious, and April understood why.

"While I'm not one hundred percent sure it's them, circumstantially I think it has to be – there's just no one else it could be. Plus, I've got some vials of 'something' – we'll need to analyze whatever 'it' is when I get back. I think they were planning on quietly feeding this stuff to some of the people here. Might be some kind of virus or something. Either way, I've got all of it I could find – I replaced it with water. They might have some more, so I need to get out there and be sure they don't have an opportunity."

"Gotcha. By the way, we are going to be picking you up this afternoon. We got the concession, since we hired the boats they usually use. They had to come ask us if the usual crew could come get you. So we'll be there. Thought you'd like to know."

"That's nice Simon. Thanks. I can relax once I get off this island and not be on my guard all the way home. That's a load off."

"Ok, well, I'm gonna call Dermot and the crew back home and fill them in. Get out there and guard the coffee pot April. We'll see you soon. Be safe!"

"Thanks. Looking forward to seeing you!" replied April, buoyed up by the news.

*****


It was an awkward breakfast. April got out to the bar and got the coffee going just before Astrid showed up. She got a knowing look and big smile from Astrid, and then Sam arrived, yawning mightily. Sam was wearing different clothes, so she'd obviously made it back to her cabin at some point.

April got another wan smile from Sam, as she handed her a cup of coffee.

The entire breakfast was subdued – everyone was either nursing hangovers, or just embarrassed about their behavior since they arrived at the island, or both. Conversations were muted and over quickly – most people just ate and sat with their thoughts. No one talked about the events of the night before.

Tom Smith did his very best to avoid April's eye and spent the morning making jokes with Sal Girodano.

For April, it was almost amusing. Astrid and Sam kept trying to gently suggest to April that she take some time to enjoy the morning sun, and let them tend bar for a bit. Gently but firmly she thanked them and, with a smile, went back to offering coffee and tea and orange juice to all the clients.

Astrid and Sam were getting more and more agitated as time wore on. Eventually they got their moment while April was sitting passing the time with Brenda and John Roake. She could see Astrid behind the bar, doing something to the orange juice jug. 

After a few more minutes –and one last appointment for a massage for John – April got up and went back to the bar. She could see Bridget Fleischman wandering up, with an empty glass, obviously intent on refilling. April gave her a bright smile, picked up the juice jug and then dropped it. While she'd taken the contents of the vials and replaced them with water, there was no reason to take chances.

The sound of glass breaking was loud, and directly after it, she heard the sound of slow claps from the single guys. She smiled in embarrassment, and looked out at everyone sitting at the small tables, all looking at her. Her eyes briefly met Astrid's, who had an expression of horror on her face that was far out of line for a simple jug malfunction. April made a face at her, as though appalled by her own incompetence, and then crouched down to clear up the mess.

The main group started to drift away after that to start packing – since most would be leaving that morning. April wandered down to the massage table and waited for John to arrive. He did promptly, and April gave her last massage. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Astrid and Sam hovering around, looking down at her from the higher level. She waved at them, and when she was done with John, turning down his carefully couched offer of one last 'event' – as he put it – and went back to her room, locking the door behind her. She had no intention of being available for either one of the other girls to waylay.

She packed, and was ready to see everyone off by midday, when they all boarded the zodiacs, swearing undying love of the island and making excited plans to meet again – which no one would follow through on, but it's what you do at the end of a holiday like this.

Once that was accomplished, April turned to Martin Steele and asked him if she could talk to him – they went back to his cabin and she talked and he listened. She talked about what had happened – all the sexual events, and played the worried woman, wondering who would hear about what had gone on.

She made a point of being with Martin so she wouldn't be in her room – now the rest of the clients had left, the island was down to five people, and things could happen without prying eyes. She didn't want to be in her room alone till it was time to go.

They talked for almost two hours – Martin was accommodating, and explained that no one talked about the events on the island. They had as much to lose as she did. He also talked about how impressed he'd been with her performance.

At one point he'd joked, "Almost enough to turn me straight!" and she spurted out a mouth full of diet coke she'd been drinking when he did.

And then it was time to go. They could hear the horns on the zodiacs that were back to pick them up.

They embraced once, and April was back in her cabin. She waited while everyone else was lugging their bags out to the launch landing, and then, frantically, ran around the rooms, removing the audio bugs. She didn't want to leave them behind and them be found later – besides, she had signed them out and would have to sign them back in again and she had no idea how expensive they were.

It took almost three minutes of running around, and she was just in the process of pulling her rolling luggage back when Mario came back, looking for her.

And then she was on the boat – a different zodiac from Astrid and Sam – and smiling at Simon Miles, who was bare chested and obviously enjoying himself immensely as he piloted the zodiac back to the main land.

April sat looking back at the artificial Island, marveling again at the construction and placement, until they curved out of the bay where it sat.

*****


April sat in the coffee shop, sipping her hot chai tea and wondering how this whole thing could have gone so bad on her. Oh, both Laura Ingrams and Dermot were full of praise, telling her she'd 'cracked it', and how the owner of the bank was beside himself, as were the board of directors. They'd earned their fee, and no mistake. The board was showering Ingrams and Associates with praise, the people at Pinkerton were holding their poker faces and saying nice things, while obviously dying a little inside as they said them; everyone was happy.

So why, wondered April, was she so down? Why did she feel like she'd failed? Tom Patterson had made it clear that he considered the mission to be a success, even though privately Pinkerton had made it known that they didn't think there was much chance of a conviction, since there was just so little evidence that the girls were directly involved in the previous robberies. 

While there was some circumstantial evidence, none of it was obtained in a way that could be presented in court. At the end of the day, all there really was in the way of knowledge is the statement "if you want the robberies to stop, look at who these girls are associating with, and don't let them near the yearly getaways on the Orosis island again." 

Patterson was fine with that – he hadn't held out any hope of recovering the lost money, and had most of it reimbursed by his insurance company, anyway – but he was just pleased he knew who was responsible and how to stop it. 

Pinkerton had indicated they were going to watch the girls for a while, see who they were talking to, and if nothing came up in a month or two, they'd approach them, make the point that they were busted, warn them off in some strong terms, and that should be enough to prevent further bank robberies.

They'd cracked the false trail the two girls had given – strangely, Astrid and Sam were their real names, but they had a past full of blackmail, petty theft, fraud and one case of robbery. They'd both done a few months in a state penitentiary in Ohio, and after that, embarked on a career of pole dancing and soft-core porn. April had been right with her suspicions of their past, when watching them perform on the island.

But April wasn't happy. It might have been something to do with that last night. She knew damn well she'd failed on the job – being taken advantage of in that way by those girls was unforgiveable to her. She hadn't been in control and she knew it, and as far as she was aware, no other field agent had lost control in quite the way she had – at least no one had reported it. 

She understood she'd been fed a cocktail of drugs, and that contributed in a major way to what happened, but she was a professional. She should have either seen it coming, or been prepared so it couldn't have happened. But it had. Not that she hadn't enjoyed it - far from it. She had had no idea she could enjoy sex with women as much as she had. But still. It wasn't right.

She was miserable, and pissed off that these two girls – and whoever their compatriots were – would get off Scott free. It offended her sense of justice and she knew there was nothing she could really do about it – she was a sex counselor field agent, not Jason Bourne – but it still burned.

She was sitting in the Starbucks window, at a small table by herself, commiserating and wondering what she'd need to do in order to get past this, and watching the rain come down in downtown Washington DC. She had to smile at that. This time last week, she'd been sheltering from the oppressive sun. She was about as far away from that life as it was possible to get.

She looked up, out of her reverie, as a shadow fell across her, into the smiling face of Astrid. Smiling was, in fact, too mild a word. Smugly triumphant expression would be closer.

Standing next to her was Samantha, and behind them, a large man with thinning hair and the squarest jaw she'd ever seen. He was truly large, standing almost six feet four, and weighing over two hundred and seventy five pounds, if she was any judge. And he obviously put in his time in the gym. His neck and arms were huge and bulging with muscles. Even though she was surprised at them showing up, April first thought on laying eyes on this man was to wonder what it would be like to give this man a massage – if she could get his muscles to relax or not.

She glanced over at Samantha, who was wearing the same expression as Astrid.

"Hello Tara. Or should I say, April?" Astrid spoke in the silky tones of someone who felt they have the upper hand.

April flicked her gaze back to Astrid, who was grabbing the chair opposite and sitting down in it. Sam also grabbed a chair from a nearby table and dragged it over to the little two person table, and the large Neanderthal also took a chair from a table where there were two people already seated, glaring at them to make a comment. Neither did, and he dragged the chair over the table, realized there was no space for him actually at the table, and instead turned the chair around, wedging it between Astrid and Sam, and then sat astride it.

If nothing else, the little interaction had provided April with all the evidence to know that this man was The Heavy, and nothing else. Certainly not the brains.

She redirected her attention to Astrid, wondering how far she should deny who she was. They evidently knew her real identity.

"How nice to see you Astrid. Sam. Aren't you going to introduce me to your large friend here?" 

The Neanderthal smirked at being called large and said in a deep throaty voice, "You ain't seen nothing yet, woman. I'm large everywhere."

It told April two things – the first was that this was a habitual steroid user. The muscles came from a bottle, because a low raspy voice was often the result of steroid abuse. When it enlarged the blood flow of muscles, it did it to the point of enlarging the blood flow in the esophagus, and changed how the voice sounded. The second thing was that this man was proud of his size, and imagined himself to be something he was not. One of the other, less known, side effects of long term steroid usage was shrinkage of both the testicles and penis size.

Since they were in a public place and violence was unlikely, April felt relatively ok about poking the bear. At best it would throw this little group off, and at worst, it would just get him angry in a place where he could do nothing about it. It would also be interesting to see the group dynamic at play. Would he listen to anyone else?

"Seriously?" she laughed. "I doubt it. Steroid use tends to have nasty side effects," she said, snidely, waving her pinky finger around for added emphasis.

She noticed Sam suppressing a smile and that the smug smile had instantly vanished from the large man's face, chased away by and angry scowl.

He started to get up, but stopped when Astrid put her hand on his arm and shook her head.

His eyes narrowed, but he sat down, glaring at April.

"Now, April, baiting Grey here is not a good idea. He doesn't have quite the impulse control that you and I have," warned Astrid, turning her attention back to April, and making the point, once again, that she knew April's name.

"Besides, we have a lot to talk about you, and we," she said, smiling the whole time.

Astrid nodded at Sam and said, "Sam, would you be a dear and get us some coffee? The usual. April, do you need anything....no, I see you have a full one."

Sam nodded back and got up and went over to the counter.

"Now, April. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Or tongue, so to speak. Hahaha," laughed Astrid, falsely. "I think that you and I could come to some...arrangement. But first things first. How are you feeling? Recovered from that last night? That was quite...breathtaking."

April considered her situation. These obviously weren't trained professionals, or they would never have contacted April in a public place, nor allowed her to leave her phone on the table where it could be recording everything. It wasn't, and picking it up to fiddle with it now would give the game away, but still, it was tradecraft and they were failing at it. 

Given their lack of ability, it was unlikely they really knew what she did for a living. It was obvious they thought she was some kind of investigator, but what were they doing here, temping the lion in its den? Her cover wasn't that sophisticated. While the details were sound - they were someone else's life, after all – her attachment to those details were not. Since she'd got back, she'd not made any attempt to live out the life of the cover story, so uncovering who she really was wouldn't be hard. All they had to do was follow her home and look at her mailbox. She'd simply not considered that anyone would.

A couple of thoughts drifted up, but she decided that for now, just playing along was the best course of action. Let them tell her what they wanted, and she could decide what to do then.

This was decided in a split second, and for the next 15 seconds, April did her best impression of someone uncomfortable, who doesn't know what to say, in order to project an image of suppressed anxiety to Astrid and her friends.

"It was...memorable," she finally said.

"Good. I'm glad you are recovered. That particular combination of...ah...helpful aids, can often leave people on the ceiling for some time afterwards."

April just started back at her. There was silence for a few beats, while everyone waited for someone else to say something. 

Astrid broke the silence.

"Well, to business then. I admire your ability to get right to it, April," she said.

April had noticed that Astrid's diction and delivery were markedly different from when on the Island. There, she'd been all soft and had a slight southern twang. Now, they were clipped, direct and had no trace of accent. Astrid was turning out to be more of a surprise.

"What do you want?" asked April.

"There, you see? Direct and to the point. What do we want? Oh, so many things, April, but in this particular case..."

At this point, Sam rejoined the table, with three coffees in hand, balancing them between two hands carefully.

"Thanks Sam. So, what do we want? To answer that, let me explain a few things. When you...liberated...that camera memory stick and the vials that went with it – the water was a clever move by the way -, you – inadvertently, I'm sure – interrupted a rather lucrative endeavor we," she gestured around, "and some friends are engaged in. Basically, you fucked it up for all of us. Now, if we'd known at the time it was you who had the memory stick and the vials, we would have got them back. Now there are those among our group who are rather upset by this. A large amount of time and effort went into this working situation and that's all gone by the wayside now. There are those who feel you should be punished, but I...I think we should make lemonade out of lemons."

Astrid paused for effect and took a sip of the coffee, wrinkling her nose at either the taste or the hotness.

"So, how to make lemonade out of this little disaster? And there you are."

April sat back and considered the situation. This Astrid was a radically different one from the Valley Girl construct on the island. She began to see how she's underestimated this woman – by design – and had really only gotten one over her by accident. The memory stick and the vials – and she knew exactly what was in those vials now, since the one vial she'd managed to get home – stored in her emptied and flushed out perfume bottle – had yielded it's secrets. She – and the client - knew how this little gang got the results they did, using a two-pronged attack. One was purely sexual – a little blackmail with pictures – and if that didn't work, there was the fake virus story. The vials contained a small mixture of cold virus that was almost – but not quite – inert. Enough to give you flu like symptoms for a few days, after a small incubation period. Say, the few days between partying in the south pacific and returning home to your house in northern California or Washington State.




Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 05



While they had yet to confirm it, the idea that Pinkerton and to an extent, Ingrams, was running with, was that the gang was using dual approaches. One was the sexual imagery blackmail, but if that wasn't enough, they were also dosing up variable combinations of partners with the flu virus, then telling them they were 'infected' with some mystery disease, and only they had the cure. Never mind that the symptoms would go away on their own – they used fear against the victims. It was almost certain they would use time as a weapon – "You'd better come through now or you'll be dead in days. Don't waste your time talking to Doctors; you'll be dead before they can do anything. Etc etc etc."

In a way, it was genius. Owning the pictures was not illegal, and if anyone did go to the cops, well, they'd be fine in a few days, and there was no evidence to the contrary. While they'd get a slap on the wrist, no one could prove anything and they'd be free to carry on with someone else.

The secret really was the attendance at the island retreat. The people coming there were ready made for this kind of scam. Normally uptight church going people, who get away to the sun, get drunk, be in a closed secure environment where they were encouraged to explore their sexuality, with laid on entertainment? It was no wonder they had succeeded every year in their attempts to compromise one of the bank managers.

And then April had wandered in, and fucked it all up, removing both the vials of flu and the memory stick in the camera – all materials used to coerce the unwilling were destroyed.

She could quite understand Astrid was pissed, but what did they want with her? 

They had obviously figured out she wasn't what she purported to be, but what did they think she actually was? Well, there was only one way to find out...

Astrid leaned forward and whispered in a low voice, ensuring April leaned forward to listen, too.

"So, April. By now I'm sure all sorts of scenarios have run through that magnificent head of yours. Here's the deal. You fucked up a perfectly good operation for us, one that was successful for years until you showed up. You are obviously some kind of operative for some agency, there to fuck up our little game. And you did, so kudos to you. But for that, there comes a price. And the price is, you help us make up for the fuck up you caused."

There was silence, and April looked up at Astrid, puzzled.

"Why?" she asked, simply.

Astrid smiled at her.

"That tea you've been nursing. You think its just tea? You've just ingested some of our more...potent mixtures. But don't take my word for it. Go have your blood tested."

This didn't sound so good to April. She knew the stuff they used on the clients at the island would never stand up to that scrutiny. Either this was a huge bluff or she was in real trouble.

"What?" It wasn't difficult for her to appear nervous and upset. "What did you do to me?"

"What do you think? A little something to ensure some cooperation. Don't look so down. It's easily fixable with one of our other concoctions. Just make sure you don't leave it too long dear. It might get a little...messy."

April considered her situation. They could be bluffing – they had in the past – but then they'd know she'd know that, so perhaps they weren't. There were ways to find out, and luckily enough, she had access to them. Either way, it was an alarming situation. She resolved to play along, in a worried fashion.

"What have you given me? Tell me..."

Astrid smiled. "All in good time. Now, we know you are an investigator of some kind. We don't know who for, but I would hazard a guess it's for one of those faceless entities that's made up of letters. What we want is you. Or more to the point, we want access. We want to know a good place to...help redistribute the wealth, shall we say. You denied us a source, so it's up to you to help provide a new one. We figure that you must have access to some juicy information – something going on that we can use to...increase the war chest."

"Like what?" April was genuinely curious about what they thought she knew. 

"Oh, I'm sure I don't know. But I have faith that you'll find something. Work as though your life depends on it. Have a look through some old case files, or find some juicy little company that has a lot of cash on hand. It doesn't matter – just be sure that it's somewhere we can visit where there will be very little follow up."

April just sat still, staring at Astrid, unblinking.

Astrid reached out and patted her hand. "It's all going to be ok, April. Just play along, give us a little something and everything will be fine. You'll see. You never know, once this is over, we can plan a repeat of that last night?"

April involuntarily and internally jumped at the touch. It took every ounce of her self-control to not react physically, and the fact that she turned to stone in order to do that was not lost on Astrid, who smiled the content smile of someone who knows they have hit home. Internally, April was mad at herself for losing her composure, even internally. She was the professional here, not Astrid. She was the one who was supposed to be in control.

"Oh you do remember it. So do I. So does Sam here. We've never had a reaction quite like that. I do wish we'd had camera's rolling for that one. I've never had a woman react like you did, and, to tell you the truth, I've never come quite as hard as I did when you were doing your stuff. I know for a fact that once this...unpleasantness... is past us, I'd quite like to see if we can't recapture that? How do you feel about that April? Hmmm?"

Astrid drifted her fingertips on the top of April's hand and along her bare forearm. She smiled seductively at April while doing so, her tongue flicking out and licking the corner of her lips.

It was all very classic seduction technique, straight out of one of the texts that April had read at the start of her career at Ingrams. She was well aware of what Astrid was doing – a textbook case of carrot and stick. Make April want something, and then give her a reason to not back out. A weaker personality could easily fall for it – the person gets something they want, and internally, they rationalize it as something they had to do anyway, because of the stick part of the 'persuasion'.

"Now, you run along and get your blood tested or whatever it is you want to do, and we'll be in touch. You might want to be a little private about where you get your blood tested – wouldn't want your employers to know, would we? You'd be benched and out of a job almost immediately, so it's not in either your interests or ours to do that. Something to bear in mind. We'll be in touch."

Astrid rose in one fluid motion, and nodded at Sam and the large man behind her, who was still doing his best to look menacing and walked out, still holding her coffee, without looking back.

April released a breath she didn't know she was holding and, giving it a minute, rose herself, picking up her cup carefully, and looking intently at the barristers working in the coffee shop, so she'd recognize them again. If there was anything in her tea, one of them put it there.

Walking out, her thoughts were a whirl. She was pissed at being uncovered – although she really only had herself to blame for that – and also excited. If she took this back to Ingrams, she had no idea what they'd want to do to Sam and Astrid. But Ingrams was a house of subversive therapy, not a spy network. What could they do? But on the other hand, April wanted Astrid and Sam to get theirs. 

So what to do?


*****
"Are you sure about this?" asked the mousey woman with the large spectacles and white coat. The woman pushed the spectacles back up her nose again, since they were prone to dropping down, and then scratched the top of her head, where her hair was pulled up in a bun, giving her face a dragged up look.

"Yes, I'm sure, Wendy. I need a blood test and some analysis of the tea in that cup."

Wendy pursed her lips and regarded April.

"Is this official? Something I should be making reports about?"

April smiled at her friend wearily and said, "No, just need something checked out. There may or may not be something in the tea, something to give me symptoms of flu or something, and I need you to look at it. It doesn't need to be official; in fact it's better if it's not. Come on, Wendy, you owe me, you know it."

Wendy Slater did in fact owe April. She owed her a lot. They'd met when April had official work from Ingrams to deliver to the company where Wendy worked – she was the head lab tech for an analysis company – the kind that police and FBI use to get details on fibers or blood spatters. Ingrams also contracted for the rare occasions where they needed DNA tests.

Wendy was the contact for Ingrams, and April, while a field officer and not usually the one who was delivering items to be looked at, often was the one picking up the results. They'd hit it off and about three months later, after several after hours drinks and a couple of dinners, Wendy had asked April for help.

Wendy was aware that April was a trained therapist, and had asked her to help intervene in the case of her younger sister, who was on a down ward spiral. Both were orphans, having lost their parents in a car crash several years before, and the lack of an established parent had more impact on her younger sister than it did on Wendy herself. Her sister had started drinking too much, partying all the time, smoking weed and Wendy suspected she was being more than a little loose with her body. When she found an amateur porno starring her little sister, she decided enough was enough.

She didn't know exactly what April did for a living, only that she was a trained therapist – a fact that had come out when April had made some throw away comment about DNA not accounting for mental stability, and what was required for that.

In the end, Wendy had approached April, not knowing who else to turn to. They'd had coffee, April had listened intently to what Wendy had to say – it all coming out in a tumult, once Wendy found someone willing to listen, and had then assured the upset scientist that she was doing the right thing, and April would help.

It had taken almost a week, but April got Janie Slater into a rehab facility. Wendy still had no idea how April had actually achieved it – when she'd tried talking to Janie, she'd been laughed at. What she didn't know what that April had taken her on a day trip – to skid row, to a mental institution, to a morgue and to a rehab facility, to show her the long term affects of the path she was taking. She had, quite literally, scared her into wanting to change.

This had all happened a year before, and since then, April was one of Wendy's favorite people. She'd even taught April to cook. They'd spent some drunken evenings out, people watching and Wendy felt comfortable with her friend.

April had inquired, delicately, about Wendy's single status one night, when they'd both had a bottle of wine each, and Wendy had confessed that the two relationships she'd had – or tried to have – had ended disastrously, and she was too uncertain and not confident enough to "put herself out there". April had laughed easily with her, and spent the rest of the night laughing at some of the frat boys attempting to pick them up in the bar they were in.

So when April came to ask for a favor, Wendy was there to perform. It was one thing she could offer.

"Leave me the blood vial and I'll run every test I can think of. I'll let you know tomorrow, since it'll take that time to grow some tests."

April smiled and kissed Wendy on the cheek. "You are a life saver, you know that?"

Then she turned and left, and Wendy was left wondering what was going on, since April had seemed far more tense than Wendy had ever seen her before.

*****
"Derrrrrrrmoooooootttt," said April, hanging around the door of Dermot's office, and attempting to look seductive, in an exaggerated way.

Dermot, sitting at his desk, with his feet up on it, franticly prodding at his Ipad, looked up at April, who wandered into the room holding two glasses and a bottle of expensive Brandy.

He put his Ipad down – not before April got a good look at the screen, which revealed Dermot was on level 176 of Candy Crush Saga – and pushed his bi-focal glasses back up his nose.

Dermot was white haired, and had a relatively large nose, and looked slightly unshaven. April had noticed that his facial hair grew at a ferocious rate – clean-shaven in the morning still gave Dermot five o'clock shadow, or at least would have if the facial hair hadn't been white, too.

"April!" exclaimed Dermot, taking his feet off his desk. "To what do I owe this salacious pleasure?"

April plonked herself down in the easy chair on the other side of Dermot's desk, put down the brandy and the glasses and busied herself pouring out two measures.

"Can't a girl just want to have a drink with an old friend once in a while?" she asked, glowing innocence at Dermot, as she looked at the two snifters and added a touch to one, so they were equal in amount.

Dermot gave her a penetrating stare and replied, "Lassie, the day you want to have an 'innocent drink' with me is the day I quit and take up market gardening. Some girls can have a drink with an old friend. You are not one of those girls."

April laughed and handed over the brandy glass. Dermot glanced at the clock and saw it was past nine o'clock – another rare occurrence for April to still be in the office at that hour when she wasn't actively on a case.

He swished it around in the glass and sniffed it. "Ahh, Courvoisier Napolean, n'est pas?" he said, in a questioning tone.

Wordlessly, April leaned forward and rotated the bottle around so he could see the label.

"Hmm. Good to know I still know my brandies." He said, taking a long sip.

"Oh so good. Right, come on then. Spill. What do you want? I already know it's not my body."

April picked up her glass and took a drink herself. "How do you know? I might have a thing for older men."

Dermot put down his glass and said sarcastically, "Oh be still my beating heart. Gimme a break. What. Do. You. Want?"

"Weeeeeellllll....."

April was having fun with this. She didn't often get to needle Dermot in a fun way, and she was taking full advantage now.

Dermot tilted his head.

"So that last case..."

Dermot groaned and sat back, the glass forgotten. "I might have bloody known. Doesn't sit well, does it lassie?" he said, the Scottish burr in his voice making an appearance.

April made a face back at him.

"No, didn't think it would. It didn't with me, either."

"Soooooooo.. I was wondering. Do we have a Pinkerton contact for this?"

Dermot was immediately suspicious. "Why? Why would you want to know that?"

"Just curious...."

April took another salubrious drag on her drink, pretending to be fascinated by what was in the glass.

Dermot just sat there, staring at her. There was silence for a moment.

"Oh, if you must know," pouted April, "I just feel like I should be in that loop. These guys need to be warned off in a specific fashion. I should be a part of this, not just the writer of some report they read. I mean come on, I've met these people. I know them, more than they do, anyway."

Dermot considered the request, and April saw him doing it. She pressed her advantage.

"Dermot, these people destroyed marriages, robbed banks. They are going to get a slap on the wrist and pretty much nothing more. We need to scare them. I can help – my insights of what to go for will help. You know it will."

Dermot pursed his lips. He knew there was more to this than met the eye. There always was when April was involved. Different levels of machinations. "Wheels within wheels", as the writer of his favorite Sci-Fi series, Dune, had put it. April was the very definition of that.

On the other hand, what she said did ring true.

"April. I'll give you the name. Don't make any promises with Ingrams name on it. But before I do, let me tell you a story."

He picked up the glass regarded the amber liquid in it for a moment, before taking another drag on it, and then holding the glass close to his chest.

"Many years ago, I had this friend. He was a field agent for the DEA. He was a great guy. Very smart, knew his stuff. Very successful. Anyway, he had one deal go bad, the bad guys got away and he was pissed. He spent a lot of time trying to track them down and even took one promotion purely for the access to some databases it gave him. Turns out he spent pretty much every moment of that promotion on this. He didn't care – he got what he needed, found them and took them in. But it cost him. It cost him the job, the promotion and while he got the respect of his people for sticking with it, it prevented him from basically ever being able to do it again. His need for completion cost him the ability to carry on doing it. Are you listening April?"

Dermot stared hard and unblinking at April over the top of his glass.

She took another sip, smiled sweetly at Dermot and said, "Absolutely Dermot. I'm just glad we don't have any other databases around here."

Dermot sighed, knowing his message was heard and understood and then completely ignored. So be it. It was April's funeral.



*****
April's phone buzzed as she was power walking along the Washington Mall. She hadn't had time to run that morning, so instead she was taking a long lunch and doing her best to avoid all the tourists and other assorted power brokers, intent on enjoying the all too brief sun shine in Washington DC that day.

She stopped, found an unoccupied bench and sat down and answered.

"Hey April, it's Wendy, can you talk?"

"Wendy! Thanks for getting back to me so soon. So, what's the scoop?"

"This blood sample is...pretty wack. There's some stuff in it that I had to look up."

"Really? What kind of stuff?"

"Well, if I read this right, it's a modified version of a flu vaccine, that's been tripled in density. To start with, I thought this was some kind of exotic disease or virus. I mean, that's what it looks like. Then I started to chase down which one it was and it just didn't fit any of the obvious ones. So I started casting around and in the end, after many hours," – April couldn't help but notice the extra emphasis on this; she was sure Wendy had worked all night on this – "I tracked it down to this experimental flu vaccine thing from the research labs at John Hopkins. I mean, I was lucky. I have a friend I went to college with who works there, and I talked to her, and she put me onto this vaccine thing. This matches up, although it's boosted all to hell."

"So, it's not deadly is it?"

"Well, anything is deadly in a large enough dose, even oxygen. But no, what I'm seeing here is that the recipient would have some flu like symptoms, that would persist a bit, some aching in the bones, a fever, some gastric distress and so on. It would be over in about a week, maybe ten days. What's the most interesting about it though is the way it looks through a microscope. It honestly looks like some kind of man made virus that could be almost anything. All gnarly and scary looking. It's very Doctor Frankenstein."

"But not deadly. And it'll work itself out by itself."

"Oh for sure. Not nice in the interim though."

"Wendy, you just made my day. Thank you for this."

"You are welcome. Drinks sometime?"

"Ohhhh, for sure girlfriend. For sure."

That was a weight off April's mind. She'd been pretty sure that the little gang had just extended their original approach of basic infection with something a bit more aggressive, and she'd been proven right. Now to stop worrying about that, and actually make some of the planning happen.




Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 05



To start with, a phone call...
*****


Another dinner date. This time, April had dressed a bit down. This was going to be difficult, but she honestly didn't know what else to do. She needed him, and she needed what he was.

She had no idea how pleased he would be to see her, but her plan hinged on this.

A dab of makeup, a little scent, and here she was, sitting at a table at a Panera Bread, nursing a bread bowl with chicken and rice soup and looking out of the window, waiting for him to arrive. She wasn't feeling so great; the flu symptoms had started to show up and she was dosed up with as much cold medication as she could stomach.

When he finally did, he nodded to her in passing, went up to the counter, ordered something to eat, got a drink and then came and sat down. She noted the order in which he did things – he was sending a message. She came second now. Message received and understood, she thought, while attempting to smile at him as much as she could. Give him no reason to flee.

"Hello April. Looking great today. Nice tan. Somewhere nice?" Inquired Raph, dropping into the seat opposite her.

"South Pacific," she said, putting both her hands on the table, palms down. Studies had shown that visible hands, palms down, relaxed a conversation partner.

"Wow. You didn't waste much time, did you? Was he cute?" Raph said, evenly, with only a trace of bitterness in his voice.

"They were very nice, thank you," replied April, stressing the first word. "All part of the job."

"Well, this is nice and all," said Raph, looking around and using what was obviously a contrived bored and disinterested tone, "but what do you want April? Come to your senses? Want to marry me and have rug rats?"

April just looked at him, head tilted, expression not changing.

"No, thought not. So to what do I owe the pleasure?" Raph asked again, still looking around and barely making eye contact with April.

She could see it for what it was. A man in pain. A man who feels betrayed and let down. A man who is in a conversation because he's too decent of a man not to be, not because he wants to be. Her heart went out to him, and she realized, again, the wisdom in what Dermot had told her initially.

She composed herself, pushing her plate away and lacing her fingers, hands together, as if in prayer.

"Firstly, let me apologize again. I can't give you what you need. I'm not in a place where I can take this relationship to the next level – not now – and it's been very unfair of me to run with you, knowing that it would never go beyond a certain point. I guess I was just hoping this would be enough – god knows it was great for me." She flashed him a sincere smile at that. Whatever happened, she needed him to know how much she'd enjoyed their time.

"I'm really sorry I hurt you Raph. You are a good, decent man, just making his way through life, and you are going to make some lucky woman very happy. You made me happy, that's for sure. I just can't be that woman. Not now. Nor would you really want me to be."

April paused, while Raph looked steadily at her, but he didn't say anything.

"You'll understand more in a moment when I explain everything. The thing is, I need your help. You are in a...unique position, to help me out with something that is scratching my soul."

She stopped again, searching his face for a reaction. There was none. He just looked at her, expectantly, like someone waiting for a performance to start, so she plowed on.

"Everything I told you about what I do is the truth. Everything I said. It's just not all the truth. I am a therapist. It doesn't matter who I work for. It's an agency but that's really immaterial. You already know I work as a therapist helping people recover from bad marital and personal situations. What you don't know is that, for the most part, these people I am helping are...unaware that I am helping."

There was more silence for a moment as Raph digested this.

"What I'm telling you now is strictly confidential and I could be fired for telling you, but you deserve to know. Basically, when people of authority have relationship issues, the group I work for is often sent in to help rebuild them. Often they are CEO's or people in authority, and most of the time, these kinds of people wouldn't accept help if it was offered to them. So we, we...push things along. Take a look at the situation, integrate ourselves into their lives and do the therapy in situ, so to speak. These people often never even realize what we are doing."

She paused and took a breath. She could see understanding marching across Raph's face.

"And would some of these personal issues be...sexual, in nature?" he asked guardedly.

April took a deep breath. "Yes, sometimes they are," she replied.

"So you are sleeping with these people, to rebuild their ego's after some person has destroyed it then? Basically?" 

"Well, it's a lot more complicated than that, but there is an element of that involved, yes," admitted April.

"And that's what you were doing when you were away for those periods of time? Fucking some CEO who needs Viagra to get it up?" said Raph, leaning in and looking April directly in her eyes.

She didn't look away.

"It's not like that Raph. It's a relationship to them. It's not a sordid little fuck fest, like you are trying to paint it. I'm trying to help them."

"By fucking them? Jesus. You take 'Do no harm' to all new levels April. Yes, you were right. There's no fucking way I want to marry you. God knows what you'd bring to the marriage bed. Wait... so wait a minute, is there training for this? Jesus... are you...trained? In how to fuck?"

This time April did look away.

"Jesus Fucking Christ. This is just... unbelievable. Trained to fuck and sent in undercover. You give a whole new meaning to Mata Hari, don't you? Fucking hell April. And you won't give this up to be with me? Wow, that really puts me in my place, doesn't it? Are they better than me? Bigger cocks? Get you off more? Or is it the cheating that turns you on?" Raph was pissed and badgering April, his voice rising.

"Raph!" hissed April, looking around at some of the glances thrown their way. "Keep it down."

Raph sat back, laughing softly to himself. "Wow, I am some prize chump. I just let you run off and 'be professional', not thinking for a second that you really are a professional. I have to ask April, why bother with me? What's the fucking point? There was no way I would have accepted this if I knew. You had to know that? Why bother with me at all? Surely you are getting all the cock you want in your day job?"

April sighed. She had anticipated that his ego would need stroking after what she was going to lay on him, but this was going to be harder than she thought. The only way forward was honesty.

"Honestly, that's not true. Yes, there's some sex sometimes, but it's not like I'm out there fucking everything that moves. Most of the time it's holding someone and trying to rebuild their psyche, Raph. Most of the 'cock' I see, - as you so graciously put it, - belongs to broken people and often people who I would never do in a month of Sundays given the choice. It's just a part of the entire service. There's no relationship in it for me – it's a job. That's it. You... you were everything else."

Raph had been looking at the plate the waitress had just delivered and looked up at the last statement. "Everything else what?"

"Everything. I lead a really lonely life, Raph. I have my friends in the company, who know and understand what I do, and almost no one else. Certainly no one I can completely open up to. But because of that, I hold everyone at arms length. With you, I didn't have to. I could talk to you about everything, office politics, the whole thing. I had to keep some stuff confidential, but you can understand why. You'd have run a mile if I told you what I do up front, not to mention the office policies on disclosure. The fact is, you and the relationship I had with you was pretty much the entire rest of my life outside of work. I knew it could never go to the levels you wanted, but I thought it might be enough. It's what I needed. And, I think, what you needed too, if truth be told. You were just ready to migrate to a level I couldn't. You can't tell me you didn't enjoy the time we spent together?"

"April, while what you say is true, I don't think you quite understand that the time we spent together was based on a lie. A highly elaborate lie, but a lie none the less. And that colors everything, from my side. Surely you can see that?"

April stopped and took a breath and tried again.

"Yes, I'm sure that from your perspective, you are right. But... I don't have that perspective. I just wanted to be with someone who wanted to be with me for who I am, not the job I do or the feelings I am trained to elicit from them."

There was a moment, then Raphs eyes widened. "Jesus, I'm not one of your clients am I? Have you been manipulating me as well?" he exclaimed, breathlessly.

April did smile at that. She hadn't anticipated that question.

"No, don't be ridiculous Raph. You aren't broken, well, any more broken than I've made you. And no disrespect, but I tend to operate at the CEO of Fortune 500 companies level, not the manager of a mall jewelry store. Don't flatter yourself."

She said the last in as jokey a tone as she could, and she was at least rewarded with a weak smile. Seeing that, she knew she – no, they - were going to be ok.

"What you got from me was because I wanted to give it. And honestly, I still do. But I understand where you are at. I've just dropped a bomb on you and I know you'll need time to process it. But that brings me to why I asked you here. It wasn't to broadside you with this. You need this for background."

"There's more? Seriously? Jesus Christ. Have you met Aliens as well?" 

Humor. Raph was going to be ok. April felt like a massive weight had lifted off her heart, a weight she hadn't been aware she was carrying.

"Well, certainly some people I could imagine coming from another planet, that's for sure. But no. So, I need to further break company policy, and I'm going to tell you what happened on my last gig."

She took a drink of her diet coke, and launched into it. She detailed the operation, the requirements, what had happened, everything. She left out the last night and some of the sex stuff – she was sure Raph could fill in those gaps himself.

It took her almost forty minutes, with Raph occasionally interjecting to ask questions. He was utterly fascinated and followed along with everything she said. At the end, he sat back and said, "Jesus April. You certainly live life, don't you? James Bond, Mata Hari and hooker, all rolled into one."

She made a face at him, but didn't respond.

"So I get it. These are bad people and they are getting away and you are sore about it. They've tried to get at you, you know its bullshit and now...what? You are here telling me all about it? Why? What do I have to do with it?"

The moment of truth.

"I need your help. I need... your store."

"You need my What?"

"Your store. I know you work at a jewelry store in one of the local malls. I want to use it as...bait."

"I'm sorry, I think I misunderstood. You want to use MY store as bait for a bunch of armed thugs, intent on robbing the place? Are you out of your freakin' mind April? Corporate would never go for that. Hell, I would never go for this. You expect my people to be held up by nut jobs with guns? Jesus Christ."

Raph looked away wildly, with an incredulous look on his face.

"It's not like that. I know for a fact that you don't have to have the real merchandise out on the floor – you have a complete set of cubic zirconium replacements for everything that is carried that is over five hundred bucks, and I know you have a time safe and once you close it, it's done for the night."

Even more amazement chased itself across Raph's face.

"How the hell do you know that? Wait. Did you have me checked out?"

April always knew Raph was smart and quick on the uptake. She had wondered why he was just still a mall store manager, given how fast he was on catching on.

But he was right on the money with this one.

She looked away, then back. "Yes. Standard operating procedure, I'm afraid."

"Well, isn't that just fucking wizard!" he exclaimed. "Find anything interesting? I'd love to take a look at that report. Did it detail what I have for breakfast too?" 

April had known this admission would upset Raph. It would upset anyone, in fact. She'd be incensed if someone had done that to her. But it was the last bomb, and Raph had already required some of his equilibrium from the first bomb, so she was hopeful he would do the same for this one too. Most of what she had to say and ask was out there now. Now it was a question of convincing him.

"I'm sorry Raph. I don't get to set the rules. They were quiet, unobtrusive and no, nothing was found. You should know that. You are everything I thought you were – a decent man, on his way up in the world. I never saw the report and I would never get to. It doesn't work that way. I really am sorry, it's a shitty thing to do to anyone, but it's partly what I signed up for when I signed on."

"Yes, when you signed on April. I don't remember signing that particular document."

There was another silence. Both sides were trying to decide what to say next.

"Well, you are still here, so there's hope, I guess," said April.

"Hope for what April? That you can persuade me to use my store for an armed robbery? I can't wait to hear this. Explain to me how you could use it, not get any of my people in harms way, and how I explain this to head office."

April grasped at the straw offered.

"What if I could do all those things? What if I could fulfill them all?" she asked urgently, hope surging in her voice.

"Oh this I have to hear. Do tell April. I am all agog," replied Raph, folding his arms.

"Ok, well, first, it wouldn't be your people in the store. You'd have to be there, but in the back. The people manning the desks would be a private security company. And..."

"Which security company?" interrupted Raph, ruthlessly.

"Pinkerton," she responded. "and it would be a specific time of day – the end of the day, so there aren't many people around. You'd not have any of the real merchandise out, so if it all went sideways, all they'd get is the faux stuff."

"Hey, even that faux stuff costs money April. It's not free."

"It's not important, we can cover that," she waved his objection off, impatiently. "The fact is, none of your people will be even in the store. Nothing of value can be made off with, and if this comes off, you end up the hero."

"Oh really. And how do I explain this to Head Office? That my store was staffed by Pinkerton Agents? That I didn't bother to contact either the police or my superiors?"

April grinned internally. This was one part of the conversation going according to plan.

"Simple. You tell them you were being blackmailed. You were the one being told you had something put in your drink and if you didn't cooperate, you'd die. You didn't talk to the police because they'd told you they had someone in the local department. You were scared, so you talked directly to Pinkerton. I will put you in touch with their local office and a contact person. He's more than happy to corroborate your story. They don't want my involvement made public any more than you do. I just sit and watch. You get all the glory for taking care of it, and everyone is happy."

"Oh, and what happens when they are caught and they start talking about you? What then?" said Raph, with that tone of voice that indicates the person talking thought they'd caught the other person out.

April had to suppress a smile. She already knew that Raph was in. He was just crossing the t's and dotting the i's now.

"They can't. Don't you see? They are already caught for armed robbery. If they start talking about me, it opens an entirely new can of worms – about other people they may have approached and so on. They don't want that. They'll get five to ten already. Opening that pandora's box means they'll have the book thrown at them, followed by the key to the jail house door being thrown away. They can't say a thing."

Raph sat immobile for a second, then started in on his soup, which was almost cold at this point. April could tell he was thinking furiously.

"Who's this contact?"

"I can introduce you. Tomorrow, if you want."

Raph nodded, while still eating. Nothing else was said. April stood outside herself, and looked at the two of them – him eating his soup and avoiding her eyes, and her sitting there, hands clasped in front of her, just watching, hope in her eyes. How strange they must look to others, she mused.

Eventually, he was done and he pushed the bowl away from him, wiped his mouth and sat back, regarding April. She looked back at him, a small gentle smile on her face, radiating concern.

"Can I ask one thing?" he said, breaking the silence.

"Sure."

"Was I ever any good?"

And there it was. The one question she knew was coming. The one it was inevitable he would ask.

She sighed at the inevitability and predictability of it. Women never measured the way men did. They didn't compare the act itself to other women. Sure, they compared body measurements, but they didn't compare how the act was with what they imagined it would be like if their partner was with another woman. That was a peculiarity for men.

"Raph, you rang my chimes. Have no fear of that. You were honest, straight forward and you love what you were doing. It was done with passion, gusto and desire. A woman never forgets that. You have no fear of your skills not being up to par, and yes, since you'll ask, your size is just fine. Slightly larger than average, from what I've seen. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Sure, there are areas you could do better in, but everyone has those. Even me."

Raph watched her as she spoke, trying to gauge her sincerity.

Eventually he just said, "Areas?"

April gave a small laugh. "What, you want a written report?"

Raph looked away.

April stopped laughing and said, "Raph, don't be down on yourself. You wanted more. I am not entirely what I appeared to be. It's not your fault and there is nothing wrong with you. Stop beating yourself up. Now you know why I can't take it to the next level, and when you finally stop feeling sorry for yourself, you'll understand why. I would suggest we keep being friends with benefits, but I don't want to lead you on. You need more than I can give right now. If you really want to know what you need to brush up on, I can tell you, but right now I think you need to just understand you did nothing wrong."

Raph looked back at April, and she was momentarily caught by what was in his eyes. Hurt. Pain. Indescribable sadness. And a hint of anger.

It was all part of her job, and she saw these kinds of things regularly. But when she was responsible for them, it was an entirely different kettle of fish.

She felt guilt and responsibility, and then and there resolved that somehow, she would make it up to Raph. Till then she had considered their relationship – or lack of it – as part of life in the big city. You gave and you took, and this was shitty, but it was what it was. No one was married, no kids, it was quid pro quo. But seeing his eyes brought home to her that it was her decisions that made him upset. Her decisions that meant he couldn't have what he wanted. Her decisions that had brought him to the point of believing he could.

She needed to do something, although she had no idea what. Sleeping with him was out of the question. So what?




Ingrams & Assoc 2: Retreat Ch. 05



Putting that aside for now, she simply said. "You are a good man Raph. Now, what time are you free for me to bring the Pinkerton agent by?"



*****
In the end, it was ultimately a bit anti-climatic, at least by action movie standards. No one went through a window. There were no shots fired. No car chases.

April contacted Astrid via text, using the number she'd been provided with. She'd been asked to go through some ridiculous scheme of dropping off the details of the mall store via a dead drop. She'd spent some time writing up a convincing report of the mall store, as though her company was doing a security test on them. The conversation with Pinkerton had been strained – they still didn't like Ingrams very much, but the chance to actually take down the armed robbery gang was too much to resist. Pinkerton doesn't actually have arrest capacity, so they worked with the local police department – nicely obscuring the trail to April and Ingrams, both because she asked for it, and also because it meant Pinkerton got all the credit.

She'd arranged the raid to be late in the evening, when all of Raph's people could be sent home and the Pinkerton agents take their place – it was a calculated risk that the gang would case the store and might notice all new personnel, but she couldn't cover everything – some things just had to be left to chance, bearing in mind Ingrams as a company had no clue what she was up to. But it did mean she could sit in the food court, eating some late fast food slop and watch the action. The store was located on the corners of the center of the mall, right by the food court, as so many jewelry stores are.

They came in at exactly eight thirty, masked and armed, straight in from the outside door, next to the JCP Penny's, and directly into the store. Voices were raised, hands raised, and then the place was swarming with armed police and even a swat team. Someone came up to her and asked her to move back, something she did willingly. She didn't want to be recognized, but she did watch as the gang,- now unmasked,- were led out in handcuffs. Astrid was there, along with Sam, and the Neanderthal who'd been at the coffee shop, plus two others she didn't recognize.

Either way, it was done.

*****


There was hell to pay at work, of course. No one at Ingrams was in any doubt of what she'd undertaken. She was harangued by both Dermot and Jessica Ingrams herself. But everyone knew. They knew what she'd done. Some of the field agents applauded her, some privately wondered at her revenge ethic. 

In the end, Pinkerton got all the attention, Ingrams faded into the background, but got a double sized bonus from the Northwestern Bank, and April got a reprimand on her official record – and as her friend Megan said "Who gives a shit? There's no vertical mobility here anyway – no higher position to attain anyway, so who cares?" and April got twice the bonus she was initially promised.

She followed the trial of Astrid, Sam and the rest of the gang three months later. Raph was called as a witness, and she smiled as she saw him lie his ass off under oath.

Astrid and the rest were given five years a piece. April was worried – they would get out and they would probably try and find her, but that was years away yet. Worry about that when the time came.


*****
A month after the trial, April called Raph and asked him to dinner. He showed up, more out of curiosity than out of any thing else.

April was dressed casually. He was in a suit, having come just from work. He'd been made area manager, in recognition of his starring role in the drama of the armed robbery. His immediate manager was not too impressed that he'd acted on his own recognizance, but after a visit from the Pinkerton agents, and then from head office, had decided that silence was the better part of valor; trying to take down the hero of the hour was not a great career move on his part, so he accepted head offices suggestion of advancement, and so Raph was now the manager of eight locations, and traveling constantly.

"How are you April?" he said, somewhat wearily, when he sat down at the bar table she was sitting at. She smiled at him sweetly, looking him over. They'd had no contact since the day of the robbery, even though she'd seen him on TV.

"I'm fine. Off on another job in a few days."

"Lots of nice recreational fucking then? Or is it just a job to you, now?" he didn't bother to hide his slight bitterness.

April's smile became more forced, but she was determined to keep it there.

"I... does it matter? Look, I can't stop here. I'm not actually here to have dinner with you."

"Then what do you want April?" asked Raph, looking a bit perturbed.

"I'm not here for dinner," repeated April, "Wendy is."

"Who is Wendy?" demanded Raph, seriously not thrilled at this point.

"Someone you should meet. Here she is."

Wendy approached the table, threading her way through the crowd, on the way back from the bathroom. She stopped short of the table, seeing Raph sitting there, evidently not happy.

"Raph, this is Wendy. Wendy, this is Raph, an old friend. Err.. look, work came up. I need to run, but you guys have dinner, ok? Raph, don't leave and don't get all pissed off. Wendy, Raph is a great guy. And he's looking, if you know what I mean. You kids have fun. Bye now."

And without looking back, April got up and left the bar.

Wendy stood stock still, looking at Raph sitting at the table, debating what to do.

Eventually Raph said, "Well, I dunno. I'm hungry. You hungry?"

Wendy just nodded, dumbly, thinking this man is lovely!

"Lets eat, then. I wonder how you get a waitresses attention here? Think I should dance a jig or something?"

Wendy smiled at that, the ice melted and she sat down at the table.

"So Raph, tell me about you....?" 

April and Ingrams & Associates will return in 'American Life.'