Chapter 44: Disappoi“Such a disappoi.”

  Agent Fosters approached with hurry. His bulk seemed to fill the hallway. He towered over me. He filled out his tailored suit and it clearly wasn’t with fat. Expensive shoes sounded a deliberate, solid rhythm at his approabsp; Each step nded with an almost leonine grace that belied his size. Large, wiry hands curled and uncurled into fists at his side. His smile was sardonid his eyes glittered cruelly as he watched his prey.

  “Listen, we talk about this?” I pleaded as I took an unsteady step back.

  There was iating with this guy. I instinctively uood the nature of this man. He wouldn’t kill me out of loyalty to Steele. He wouldn’t do it for the money. He would kill me for pleasure. Three weeks ago I sehe animal that lurked beh the fa?ade of civility he presented, but now his true nature showed clearly in every fibre of his being. The best I could hope for was to buy some time: for K to get her special agent ass to my rescue, for Scooter to engage whatever security systems Asklepios might have. I wasn’t about to hold my breath, though. If Fosters was as good as I suspected he’d have his bases covered. Ba the hotel room there’d been a partner; where was she?

  He shook his head slowly, eyes never losing trae. His smile grew wide and hungry.

  I never sidered running. It’s what Fosters wahe fiasy of the chase and the savage joy of the kill. I had a better ce of deying the iable by staying. Feed his appetite but keep him wanting more. It’s not like I would have gotten very far in these clothes anyway. This skirt hobbled me to ming steps. I could barely walk in these shoes, let alone run. Long hair for him to pull me back with. Jangling accessories to betray my location. A corset that strangled my breath. Everything that Agent K and the ic had doo disguise me now served me up to the enemy in a state of learned helplessness.

  Bag away with hesitant steps from the rger man, it wasn’t difficult to appear frightened.

  “Please. . . .” A final use of the spray this m kept my voice feminine. “Don’t hurt me.” I pleaded with eyes wide with terror.

  The sick bastard loved it, the girlish sob that wavered beh my voibsp; “What a disappoi,” he repeated. “They told me you were a real tough guy,” he said. “A bastard. And look at you now: nothing more than a little sissy.” He paused in his approabsp; Eight meters away. There was a locked door to my bad the hallway tio my right. He blocked the only other way in or out, and stood just a metre from the threshold of Scooter’s office.

  “I am going to hurt you, David. Boss’s orders.” The space between us was rgely empty: a few framed pictures on the wall, a low sofa behind Fosters with a small table o it decorated with a vase overflowing with flowers. “But I would’ve hurt you anyways.” The flowers were startling bright, beautiful red roses that seemed out of p their ical surroundings. They momentarily drew my eye away from Fosters. “I am going to hurt you bad. I am going to break you, then I am going to cut you, and then I am going to watch you bleed and die.”

  Lovely guy, this Fosters. If he was talking, it’s because he wasn’t expeg any interruptions. Where the hell was K? “No,” I cried, elling dy. My hands fluttered at my side and I csped them together desperately. “Oh God, please . . . don’t.”

  Drinking in my terror, he took a siep forward and eyed me appraisingly. “Beg for you life, little sissy.” His eyes shone eagerly. “Or should I call you dy? It doesn’t not matter; beg, you little faggot, beg for a quick death.”

  “I’m begging you,” I said, nearly sobbing, shaking my head, long blond tresses trembling about my fabsp; “I--”

  “On you knees,” he demanded. “Little bitches like you beg on their knees.”

  I hesitated only briefly before sinking to the floor, the smooth tiles cool and slippery through thin stogs. Looking up through the tangled curtain of my hair I repeated my plea. “Please don’t kill me.”

  He resumed his leisurely approabsp; Even fixated on me he kept careful awareness of his surroundings, each step deceptively rexed. My stomach tighteo the extent that it could, trapped in the corset’s grip--as he drew close. Three metres. I nearly shook with the effort to remain on my knees.

  I had to trust to this man’s primal nature. I had to believe him when he said he po hurt me first. Injuries heal. Pain be endured. But if he pulled a gun, which he must surely have--bang--game over. I had no iion of dying, not here, not dressed like this. As long as Fosters was beating ohere was still hope; K might still show; the cavalry might arrive; he might make a mistake.

  Fosters stared at me hungrily, and with dismay I watched the delight in his eyes twist and darken. “Disgusting,” he said.

  “How did you find me?” I dropped the begging but kept the desperate too my voibsp; It wasirely faked.

  Pride briefly warred with impatienbsp; The disdain never left his eyes as he spoke. “You led us on a good chase,” he grudgingly admitted. “Mr Steele has his agents everywhere, sc the city for you. Ais, sc security data. My partner was tipped off to the safe house. It seemed an unlikely lead. And I have to admit--when we followed you to that hotel you fooled us pletely. Oh, you were ving, David--very ving.” The s in his voice made me tremble with shame--which he wanted--and fury--which I hid. “Being a girl es naturally to you.

  “The rental car gave you away. That bitch proteg you wiped it of prints. But she missed something. A tiny spot of blood on the ceiling. Your blood. Once we knew you were in the car, we pulled the telemetry data and the distance logged by it made trag you here easy. But were you still at the ibsp; That had to be determined. So I watched. Imagine my surprise when I saw dy.” He stepped closer. “Was she a girlfriend? Were you the man in the shower ba the hotel? Oh, imagine my surprise when I finally realized that you were dy! A very good effort, David Saunders. You seemed to have found your true calling.”

  What gave me away? During what brief moment in which I allowed my feminine character to slip away did this bastard spot me? Or had I only been half as ving as I’d thought, making an utter fool of myself in an enviro so messed up nobody really cared?

  “But--how. . . .”

  Shaking his head, Fosters loomed over me. “Your efforts to dey the iable are pathetic,” he said. “Mr Steele wants a very painful example made of you, David. The security protocols for the building have been overridden and this wing pced in a lockdown. The doors are locked, the windows barred, the security AI disabled. No one is ing to your rescue.”

  With an almost tired sigh he reached down. His fingers coiled roughly through my hair and pulled. I gasped with pain as he hauled me to my feet. “My partner is taking care of that other bitch. Steele wants an example made of her, too.” He yanked my head babsp; His eyes burned into mine. “And I’ve got all the time in the world to take care of you.”

  Author's Notes:

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