Paper Doll: Part 1

    Leon parked the rented Crown Victoria in the striped fire zone and checked the map and address again.  If the address was correct, then the gray, featureless building two hundred feet away would be it.  It didn't look like anything a former organized crime boss would have live in.  

    He left his car illegally parked and walked up to the building.  There were no names labeled on the polished silver mailbox.  He opened the lid and found no parcels to give him the name of the building's tenants.  A subtle gust of January wind cut through the suit he wore, and instantly made him dismiss the idea of speaking to the residents in the brown stone a few feet away.  He walked quickly back into his car and decided to watch the building for a few hours in the warmth of the car.  He move the car from the obvious spot and parked across the street at a meter.  

    "Of all the fucking career, I had to be given this one..." 

    He checked his watch again and discovered he had been watching the building for five hours.  Suddenly he wanted to drink.  A lot.  

    No one had come in or out of the gray building.  It was already dusk and the street lights had already flickered on along the avenue.  The car heater was not keeping him warm and hunger had already started to ravage what was left of his mind and patience.  

    He looked at the address again and thought about returning to the hotel.  He'd lost a day canvassing pedestrians in heavy coats and cars dulled by road salt.  He groaned inwardly at the thought of returning the next day to do the same.  The litany of frustration was cut short when a  pale sedan that appeared to be a late model Mercedes broke from the steady stream of the traffic and rolled to a gradual stop in front of the building.  Leon made out two vague shadows in the front seat.  The street lamp the car half sat under didn't help.  Half of his mouth turned up in a triumphant grin as a familiar figure cloaked in a black long coat emerged from the passenger side. 

    "Long time no see..." Leon whispered as he slipped on his gloves.  "My old friend..."

  

    Leon was mildly amused when a tall man with a thick neck and waist opened the door.  The bulk of the man was a little startling, as with his face that naturally looked angry.  The black suit the man wore was expensive and well tailored, but he looked as if he would burst out from the seams if he made too much motions.  He guessed the man to be at least a foot taller and sixty pounds heavier than him.     

    "I'm looking for the gentleman who had just stepped in a minute ago.  I would like to speak to him." Leon said and started to reach into his pocket for his ID.  He decided against it and dropped his hand back down on his side.

    "Are you an acquaintance?" The man asked in English that was thick with German accent.  

    "He knows who I am," Leon replied. 

    "If he is expecting you, then he would have left word to expect you."

    "If he had, then the element of surprise would have been pointless."

    The man did not move.

    "Is the gun part of the surprise?" 

    Leon broke into a humorless smile.  

    "You hid the gun a little too well.  Are you a cop?"

    "I'm not here on any kind of official capacity.  I have personal business with Vincent."

    "Do not use that kind of disrespectful tone when you address him--" the door man stabbed his finger at Leon as he spoke.  Leon pushed the hand away.

    "Point at me again and you'll lose the finger."

    Leon thought the man would break out of his clothes when he tensed and flexed his body involuntarily.  Leon drew his Beretta and held it at the doorman's belly as the meaty hands came at mid-rise.

    "Do you want another belly button? Put your hands down."

    After a deliberate display of reluctance, he did.

    "You little shit...I swear I will have your ass..."

    "Excuse me?"

    "I will--"

    The threat was sharply interrupted by a voice that said the doorman's name from inside the house.

    "That's enough.  Let him in."

    The doorman cursed under his breath and stepped aside, widening the door.  Christopher Vincent continued his descent down from the spiraled staircase with polished brass railing.  A freshly lit cigarette loosely dangled from the corner of his mouth.   In his right hand, he carried a small glass ashtray.   

    "If you want to speak to me. Give him the gun."

    Leon did not lower his gun nor made a move to step through the doorway.

    "I give you my word no harm will come to you.  However, no weapons here.  House rules."

    Leon remain steadfast for a few more moments before he clicked the safety back on the Beretta with his thumb and held the gun out for Ambrose by the trigger guard.  Leon stepped inside to let Ambrose close the door.  

    "Please remove your coat and allow him you frisk you." 

    Leon grimaced but he stripped out of his jacket and shrugged out of the shoulder holster without a word.

    "Hands behind the head and spread the legs," Ambrose said the last three words slowly and carefully.  Leon followed the instructions, his annoyance well veiled.  

    "He looks like he bruises easily.  Take it easy on him please, Ambrose."

    "Of course, sir." Ambrose said curtly and circled around and stood behind Leon.

    Ambrose's large hands easily closed around his wrists, and with disturbing gentleness, the thick hands kneaded along the length of his arm, down to his neck and back.  Ambrose hooked his fingers through the slight space between the shirt and the pants and followed the belt line around toward Leon's midsection.  The intrusive hands continued their search upwards, until the hands found their way to the throat.

    "I've never seen Ambrose so pleased with carrying out a simple detail," Vincent said.

    "What kind of fucking place is this?"

    Ambrose knelt down on one knee and began his languid search along Leon's legs.

    "Somewhere that you should have been better prepared for, Kennedy.  You're very far from home.  Federal authority's useless here."

    "I'm not here on that capacity."

    Leon stiffened as Ambrose worked his way toward the insides of his thighs.  He drew in a deep breath and fixed his focus on Vincent.

    "I didn't think you were the romantic kind.  In a way, I missed you too."

    Leon bit down on his lower lip as Ambrose's fingers caressed lightly over his cock, tracing the shape of it before following the seam of the pants toward his backside.  Leon felt Ambrose lean in and gave his ass a playful pat before he stood.

    "Thank you for making this pleasant."

    "You're welcome, asshole."

    Ambrose bowed slightly with a smile and left with Leon's jacket and gun.

    "I suppose you earned a few minutes of my time, although you did look like you enjoyed it."

    Leon restrained the angry remark that nearly came out and followed Vincent into the adjacent waiting room.  Vincent sat down on one of five Queen Anne chairs lined with red velvet and lit up another cigarette.  Leon walked along the length of the room a couple of times, his eyes scanning for cameras or microphones.  

    "The room's clean.  I don't tape my guests in my own home," Vincent finally said and held up his cigarette.  "You've got the rest of this cigarette before I send you out to Ambrose."

    "Make no mistake," Leon said took a seat facing Vincent.  "I do not want to be here.  You are the last person I want to see in the world."

    Vincent titled his head slightly, a smile spread over his thin lips.

    "However--?" Vincent said, when Leon didn't continue.

    "I am here on an assignment but on unofficial capacity to locate a list."

    Vincent tapped the ash from the tip of his cigarette into the ashtray he had set on the table next to him.  It took him a few seconds to close the gap in the flow of the conversation. 

    "I'm no longer in that business, Kennedy.  You wasted a trip although it was nice to see you again."

    "You still have the connections."

    "Which I do not use or abuse so I can remain out of the business."

    "I will do anything...." Leon said in a lowered voice.

    "What's this list?"

    "I need a list in the intel black market intercepted.  A week ago, one of our bureau chiefs mined partial data of our field operatives working in Europe and Middle East.  We don't know which part of the list he pulled, only that he has 66 names from the possible roster of several hundred active operatives.  He'd put the list up for sale and gave Thursday as the deadline for the final bids." 

    "Then bid for it with the government cash.  You'll get the list and your loyal employee when he comes to collect."

    "The bidding is only open to certain individuals who has extensive and known background."

    Vincent smiled and took a final drag from the short cigarette then rubbed it out.

    "I'm quite amused by the thought that you think I would do this for the people who spent years trying to put me in prison."

    "You are not like them.  I'm asking you to do this on the same reason why you left that business behind."

    "You idealized me just a little too much, sweetheart," Vincent said.   "Why is this list more important to you than anyone else in the bureau?"

    "It's not a matter of importance.  I....was asked to take this assignment because the chiefs of the bureau believed I can convince you to..."

    Leon's words died, hearing the ridiculousness of it suddenly.  Vincent laughed.

    "How noble of you to accept the offer as the sacrificial lamb," Vincent said as he stood up.  He dusted the errand slivers of cigarette ash from his sleeves.  "Perhaps I should let Ambrose and his men have you to test your sincerity?"

    Vincent walked forward and bent down to meet Leon at eye level.

    "Have you been raped before, Leon?"

    The question pierced like a hot stake that had been driven through him.  Vincent cupped Leon's face and stroked his cheeks with his thumbs.  

    "Have you ever been in so much fear that you prayed for pain to come to drown it out? Then when the pain came,  you wished death.  All you will remember  for the rest of your life will be the faces of the anonymous men who will continue to rape you in your dreams? Do you think you could live with the filth and the stench those men left inside you knowing you will never be rid of it? The slightest scent of their cum will remind you exactly what it felt like when their cocks ripped through your ass?"

   Leon's hands curled into fists, clutching the arms of the chair so hard that his knuckles turned white.  More than anything in the world, he wanted to push Vincent away and run.  The words Vincent had said had already invaded him--violating him in a personal way that he could not defend himself against.  Then an inexplicable calm came over him when Vincent's mouth brushed against his in a feathery kiss.      

   "I'll do whatever you want..." Leon said in a controlled, even voice that didn't sound like his own.

   "Would you?"

   "There are...some people who are important to me on that list." 

   Vincent ran his fingers through Leon's hair, brushing some locks aside to look at the brilliant blue eyes.

   "Wrong answer, Kennedy,"   Vincent whispered into Leon's mouth.   "Ambrose will see you out."

End Part 1

Go to Part 2