"Well?" Garcia looked up from his desk in the study, where he was busily writing something on a piece of paper. At Julio's appearance, he hastily took the paper and placed it in a small drawer. Taking a fine gold chain from out of his pocket, he used the single small brass key to lock the drawer. He then returned the key to his pocket and leaned back in his chair, waiting for Julio's "report".
"There is nothing to worry about, Don Ernesto. The girl and her boyfriend parted in anger… he became impatient with her virginity." The two men exchanged knowing smiles. "As the old woman told you, the girl did make a call to her home city that evening, before she went to dinner. But from the girl herself I learned that the call to her boyfriend was disappointing – he apparently had decided to switch rather than fight… he said he was making love at that moment to the girl's twin sister…"
Garcia smiled broadly. "So, she has a twin. Caramba! It is a pity the twin did not come to San Francisco also. What an exhibit the two of them would make! But then, you would have to work twice as hard, Julio…"
The bearded young man grinned back. "I enjoy my work, Don Ernesto. Especially my most recent work."
"Una pinocha deliciosa?" Garcia queried, raising his eyebrows with interest.
Julio joined his fingertips and brought them to his lips, making a loud smacking sound as he kissed them. "Dolce. Dolce," he said, elongating the words.
"Interesante. Muy interesante. Perhaps I shall have to taste that little pinocha with my own lips… In the meantime, there are business matters to attend to. We are going to Acapulco tonight."
"Tonight?"
"Si, si. Dawson will arrive at ten. He will meet us at the plane. Phone the hangar and instruct them to make sure everything is in order – we take off at ten-thirty."
"And the girl?"
"She can come along – a brief vacation. You can fill her time, I trust; Dawson and I will be occupied – oh, phone Acapulco and tell them to have the car waiting. And alert Maria that we shall have a chavalita guest overnight. I want everything in order, including champagne and caviar for two – in my bedroom." Garcia gave his aide a sly smile.
"I thought you would be occupied with Dawson, Don Ernesto."
"True. But not in the bedroom! Even a business man must have his moments of leisure…"
"In that case, you had better rest before getting into bed with her," Julio replied. "And what about Valdez?"
"I have already spoken to him. He is chagrined that Jill will not be at work tonight, but I reminded him that the exhibit will be held in two days. It is not so long to wait. Which reminds me, you must also phone the ranchero and tell them to get the girls ready. You will have to drive up there and pick them up. I want them briefed – the girl is to know nothing. You can stress to them the consequences of indiscretion, Julio…"
The suave entrepreneur of the underworld looked up at his right hand man. Julio understood perfectly well what sort of "instruction" he was to give the girls. In Don Ernesto's circle, a few well chosen words sufficed to instill fear of reprisal into the addict-prostitutes. In addition, they would all be given ample quantities of dope and alcohol, then transported in the Mercedes. High-density gelatins would be attached to the side and rear windows from the outside, creating zero visibility. The window between the driver's seat and the passenger compartment would have the same kind of obscuring shield. The doors would be locked electrically. There was no chance for escape. Uniformed "security guards" – several of the most corrupt members of the Mexican police force – would stand watch throughout the grounds, to make certain no one attended or left the party who was not an invited guest.
"I think that's everything. Now, where is the girl?" Garcia asked.
"Sunbathing, at the pool."
Garcia's eyes lit up. "Rebueno. I think I'll join her for a little chat."
"… And so, Jill, I want you to take your paper and paints to Acapulco and do some studies for the exhibit Saturday. I will have on hand a quantity of mats from the gallery. The work will show better that way. Perhaps you will even find time to do a portrait of me in pastels."
"Oh, Don Ernesto, that's right! I haven't done one of you yet! You're so busy…"
"And you have been busy too, my dear. Haven't you?" he said cryptically.
"Well, yes. I have gotten quite a bit done…" she answered, a little flustered.
"How do you find Julio… as a model?"
"He's quite good, actually," she answered, ignoring the innuendo.
"I hope you will find me as satisfactory. I should like to be able to include your study of me at the exhibit."
"Oh, of course. As a matter of fact, I have something else. A self-portrait. I wanted to give it to you as a surprise, to show my appreciation for all you've done for me, Don Ernesto."
"A self-portrait. How charming! I am really touched, Jill. Is it finished?"
"Yes. Except for a few finishing strokes. I'll do that today. But you can't see it until Saturday. That would spoil the surprise."
"I shall find it difficult to wait…"
Except for the irritating presence of Dawson, the journey to Acapulco was exciting for Jill. The printer arrived from Los Angeles with a big package wrapped in brown paper. He explained that they were lithographs, and he didn't want to leave them in the trunk of the Mercedes – theft was too easy.
When they arrived in Acapulco, Julio drove them to the gallery owner's beach house, which was nestled in a private cove at one end of the bay. They had cordials in the spacious living room which, though casually furnished, with big soft armchairs and low couches, was nonetheless the essence of good taste. Half an hour later, Jill was asleep in her bedroom.
The house was dark and silent, except for the croaking of frogs and the chirrups of crickets and other creatures of the night. Silently the door opened and a man walked across the room to her bed. He looked down at her beautiful face, which was illuminated by the tropical moon. He undressed quickly, walking around the bed to the other side. Then he drew back the sheet and got in bed with her.
He pressed against her warm back, placing his arm over her to cup one of her luscious bare breasts in his hand. She stirred and moaned softly in her sleep. He nuzzled his face into her hair, and kissed her on the ear and down her slender white throat to her shoulders. "Jill! Wake up!" he whispered, jostling her breasts with his hand. His hard cock pressed into the crease between her buttocks.
The young girl stirred and stretched her lithe body like a cat. Her eyelids fluttered then opened. She let out a small cry of fright, which was quickly stifled by a powerful man's hand. Then Julio's face appeared before her eyes, and ovalling his lips he whispered, "Shhh. Don't make a sound. We must be very quiet. The housekeeper sleeps with one eye open in the next room."
She turned around to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her. They kissed long and hard. She was on fire for him again, and they made breathless, passionate love. Afterwards he said, "Jill, I have to tell you something very, very important. Not only because I need your help, but because I care about you."
"You do?" she asked incredulously.
"Yes. And you will not enjoy what I have to say. It will mean a great sacrifice on your part. But you will be doing your country and my country – and the poor people all over the world a great and heroic service. Do you want to help the people? Do you want to help me?"
She nodded her head mutely, her eyes wide with curiosity and apprehension. "Yes, Julio. But I don't understand."
"Listen. I am not who you think I am. I am a secret agent with an organization similar to the CIA – the Federacion lnternacional Contra la Criminalidad… FICC. We operate in Spanish speaking countries all over the world."
Jill was really bug-eyed now. "But…"
"And your gracious benefactor is not who you think he is. He is a notorious white-slaver. More than that, we strongly suspect him of wide-scale drug operations. In fact, we know that he is a principal figure in illicit drug traffic. But we have never been able to find out how he is passing the drugs, nor to whom he passes them. Garcia is a brilliant criminal. And like all men possessed of nefarious genius, he is extremely cautious… and extremely dangerous."
Jill was barely breathing, so awestruck and so tense was the naive young girl. "Don Ernesto? I can't believe it."
"Can you believe that my kid brother died of an overdose when he was only fifteen years old?" Julio said through a clenched jaw.
"Oh Julio – I'm so sorry. That's horrible. Tragic."
"Yes. Someone got him hooked on drugs – a junkie who needed to support his own habit. And that junkie got it from someone who dealt with a man like Ernesto Garcia, if not Garcia himself! Does that not make your gracious benefactor a killer?"
"Well… when you put it that way, of course. But he's been so kind to me, so generous…"
"Yes, chiquita. Very kind. Very generous. He can afford to be, for he intends to use you very profitably!"
"Use me? How?"
Julio told her the whole story, including the grisly fate that would befall her after the debauching orgy. She would become a captive at the ranchero, forced into addiction and prostitution along with the other kidnapped girls. Then he told her that Josephine was a witch of some kind who was the Don's procurer in San Francisco, how he had personally delivered a large sum of money to her before going to the motel – it was no accident that Garcia arrived when he did; Josephine had tipped him off as soon as Dawson left with the suitcases. Dawson knew nothing about Josephine's part in the conspiracy. Garcia was extremely wily. He told some people part of his operation and to others, he told other things. But no one knew everything. He had never hinted of his dope dealings to Julio.
Jill was crushed and horrified. Josephine! That tea – it was a drug of some kind! And the exhibit! A party in honor of "such a promising young American artist"! Oh God!
"Listen. Tonight I saw Garcia and the printer go down to the beach in the dark. I was able to observe them through a small, infrared telescopic device. A little later, a small motorboat arrived at the cove with a partial shipment of special hi-potency vitamins – feed additives for the fighting bulls he raises. He has it imported by ship, supposedly from Argentina. The bags were transferred to the car and the boatmen paid generously. When they left, Garcia and the printer drove away. The lithographs are missing from the printer's room…"
"So the dope must be in the bags of vitamins!" Jill interjected loudly.
Julio's hand came down over her mouth again. "Naturally. Now we know where it is. But we have yet to learn how it can possibly be transferred to the lithographs – unless the package does not contain lithographs. I've been trying to figure that out. It seems impossible."
"But why can't you have someone break into the gallery – if that's where they are? You can get Dawson, too!" Jill smiled smugly at the thought of the crude printer getting his comeuppance.
"It is not enough. We can imprison Garcia and Dawson. But our organization is far more interested in breaking the entire network. I know Don Ernesto too well – we could not elicit a confession from him, even by torture. He would go to his death with his lips sealed. He could have been jailed for white slavery, for kidnapping in the past. But those crimes would not keep him in prison for long. He is too rich, too powerful. He has too many employees in local government. International trafficking in narcotics in another matter, and ultimately, of political importance. Pressure can be brought to bear – high ranking officials are not anxious to lose their posts. We are very close now. But we must have that paper. I think it will tell us what we want to know, and that is how you can be of help."
"Me?" Jill asked incredulously.
"Exactly. Now, here is what you must do…"
Julio took Jill into the city the next morning, to markets and other places of interest, where she did some wonderful sketches of the Acapulcans. They had lunch in a charming restaurant, then went back to the house for a cooling swim, making love on the beach. That evening Don Ernesto took them all to La Perla, the famous restaurant where the Indian Divers plunge into the ocean from a high cliff. She knew he chose the touristy hotel for her benefit, and despite knowing his evil designs for her, she couldn't help feeling a little sad for the courtly Colombian. And she felt sorry for herself. She was having a wonderful time, a fabulous adventure in Mexico. No one had ever treated her so grandly as Don Ernesto. And he had made good every promise to her so far. Looking at him across the table as he sat there, so handsome, so aristocratic with his tanned skin and crisp white sharkskin suit, she could hardly bear to think of him in drab prison uniform, his beautiful face drawn and wan from bad food. Yet he was a criminal, and a predator. And if she failed to do her part to bring him to justice, she would be failing thousands of people everywhere. Worse, she would be endangering Julio's life, and possibly her own! She could never forgive herself if anything happened to Julio. She was definitely in love with him. No, she mustn't fail…
They drank Margaritas and danced and she had a marvelous evening. Don Ernesto was more attentive than usual. He treated her differently… like a woman he wanted to make love to, holding her tight against him as they danced, kissing her softly but lingeringly on the forehead. The fluttery feelings of excitement danced in her belly and in her loins. The first part of her assignment would not be difficult at all…
When they got back to the house, Julio made a hasty retreat to his bed. After lingering over a nightcap, the brutish printer yawned widely and said goodnight, leaving the two of them alone. Apparently Dawson knew what was in his associate's mind!
"Jill… how about a little champagne and caviar?" Garcia suggested.
"Oh, eh… well… I guess there's always room for a little caviar…" she stammered. There was a hard knot in her throat that swallowing wouldn't take away. Her heart was beating like a trip hammer. Dammit, why did he have to be so attractive! It would be so much easier to betray him if he was a boorish clod like Dawson!
"Marvelous. Come with me," he said, standing up and coming over to her, extending his hands and drawing her up to him from the couch. He looked deep into her eyes with the faintest glimmer of lust. She thought he was going to kiss her. But he did not. He took her by the hand and led her down the hall… to his bedroom.
He switched on a small lamp and closed the door. "The champagne and caviar are over there, Jill," he said, pointing to a bedside table.
She stood there, not daring to look up at him. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around. Looking intently into her eyes he said, "I want to make love to you, Jill. I've wanted to make love to you for a long time. But I am not an animal. I will not force you. Whatever you give me of your body, your beauty, your warmth, you must give willingly…"
Jill was confused, bewildered. Those couldn't be the words of a heartless white slaver, a dealer in wholesale narcotics! Oh God, why did this have to happen to her?
"Ernesto… I… I… oh yeeesss. YEEESSS!" she cried breathlessly, lifting her face to receive his lips. He enfolded her in her arms, crushing her against him. He wedged her legs apart with his knee and pressed his hard, heated cock into her pussy mound, massaging her cunt as he placed his hands on her taut asscheeks and squeezed them firmly, kneading them as though they were two plump loaves of dough. Jill was wet between her legs, and her clitoris throbbed against her panty hose. She felt weak in the knees.
Suddenly he drew back from her. "Let me undress you, preciosa." And he did, while she stood there shivering with desire. He was still fully clothed, and standing there naked before him gave her a lascivious thrill, as though she were a concubine and he, the Sultan of the harem.
He picked her up and carried her over to the bed, placing her on the pristine white sheet ever so carefully. Then he undressed. She saw the gold chain attached to his belt loop as soon as he took off his jacket and placed it on the back of a chair. Then followed the tie, the cufflinks and the shirt. He slipped off his snakeskin shoes, then pulled off his socks as he sat on the edge of the bed. Next came the trousers, which he carefully folded on the crease line and placed across the chair seat. Lastly, his monogrammed silk undershorts.
Ernesto stood before her, his throbbing penis jutting out from his sparse black pubic hair. He was a sensational man. His penis was not as large as Julio's, but it was beautiful, and more than enough for the breathless young artist. His balls were smooth and nearly hairless. How she would love to have Ernesto pose nude for her!
"Well, my magnificent beauty, would you like your champagne now or later?" he asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed and grinning at her warmly. (God, she could have cared less about anything to drink at that moment!)
She fanned her arm out languorously towards hum. "Later, Ernesto… much later…"
He kissed her then, kissed her whole body all over. Everywhere. He tongued her pussy and she came on his mouth again and again. Then he fucked her – oh, did he fuck her! Ernesto was a well-oiled machine, his cock a piston that gave her another thrilling orgasm before he stiffened and cried, "Dios, arribo!" and blasted her pussy with his boiling load of cum.
They rested then, and sipped champagne and ate caviar on English water biscuits. Then he ate her pussy again, squirting champagne into her vagina with his mouth, then siphoning it out again with the same pleasure-giving orifice. He was a master love-maker, and she never came down from her sexual high.
Julio had told her to "wear him out" so that he would be certain to sleep heavily. Instead, it was all she could do to keep pace with her masterful Colombian lover, despite taking an upper that Julio had given her earlier. Finally, she crawled down between his legs and kissed his smooth cock. It bobbed in reaction to her stimulus. Garcia placed his hand on her head. "Are you certain you want to do that, Nina?" he asked her.
"Yes, Ernesto. I want to kiss your beautiful cock. I want to kiss it, and lick it and suck it until you fill my mouth with your wonderful hot, sticky cum."
Dios! The girl has learned well – and in such a short time! Garcia remarked to himself, I must give compliments to Julio. Dawson was right: she is a she-cat!
Jill covered the underworld magnate's penis with kisses, which became more fervent by the moment. Then she licked where she had kissed, poking the tip of her pink tongue in the tiny glans slit to taste his seminal lubrication. And as she sucked and nibbled, her pussy became more inflamed with nibbling desire. An electric surge washed over her cunt as Garcia reached down between her legs and placed a long, elegant finger between her pussy lips to massage her tautly distended clitoris.
At that, she opened her mouth wide and placed her lips over the head of his heated shaft, drawing it in and licking it inside her mouth as she folded her lips over the points of her teeth to keep from hurting the tender cockflesh. She bent down, taking more of the turgid prick into her mouth. Her lips were tautly ovalled around him, and as she drew his cock into her mouth as far as it would go, Garcia let out a heavy moan of pleasure and momentarily stopped manipulating her clitoris.
Jill drew back, until the slippery head was almost out of her mouth. Slowly, she sucked it deep inside again, and when she let it slide out, she grasped the base with one of her hands so that she could control it better. She was determined to give Ernesto the best blow job she could. After all, he had satisfied her so beautifully. And she felt guilty, despite what Julio had told her about him.
He resumed his clitoral massage. Her lust-inflamed cunt moved forward and back, forward and back against his finger as she ground her pussy in tempo with her furious sucking mouth. She wanted his cum! She was hungry for it, thirsty for it. She wanted to milk him dry with her tongue and lips, to taste his fiery seminal sauce. And she wanted to cum, too. Her cunt wanted lt. Her clitoral nubbin wanted it. Oooohh, God it felt heavenly!
Garcia's moans and sighs were becoming more urgent. He thrust his free hand into her dark, abundant hair and grasped her scalp with his fingertips, forcing her into his loins. He was fucking up into her mouth with his cock, sending his slender hips forward to add more impetus to her mouth fucking.
Jill gyrated her hips feverishly, feeling the building heat of her beautiful, pink-seamed crack. She was going to… Ooooohhhh… she was cumming!
"Aaahhharaahh…" she moaned onto Garcia's cock as the tide of incomparable rapture washed over her body. She squirmed and shook throughout her wanton orgasm, her lust more incited than ever, and she sucked avidly on Garcia's cock, begging him with her body and her mouth to join her in ecstasy.
He did. His balls released their pent-up jism, sending the fiery fluid down the length of his engorged shaft and into the young artist's mouth, where it splashed against the back of her throat. He gripped the back of her head firmly, to make sure she took the full surge of his ricocheting cum. She sucked and swallowed it in quick gulps as her cheeks inflated and deflated from the pressure of his endlessly squirting orgasm, savoring the pungent, sperm-filled fluid as though it were a delicacy. She continued to suck Garcia's spent cock after he had released his hold on her head, until she had licked it clean.
When there was nothing more to lick, she crawled out from between his legs and scooted up the bed to where he lay with his eyes closed, one arm thrown across his forehead. She kissed him full on the mouth. Then she went into the bathroom to freshen up, praying that the handsome Colombian would fall asleep. She would have loved nothing better than to dream in his arms for the rest of the night. But she had a job to do. She splashed cold water on her face and shook her head to shake herself alert. She dawdled in the bathroom for several minutes. Then she cautiously opened the door and tiptoed out.
She crept over to the bed and looked down at the still form on the mattress. He lay just as she had left him. She called softly to him, "Ernesto… Ernesto…"; and he groaned in answer, then rolled over on his side. She waited, fearing to move. His breathing was deep and rhythmical. Yes, he was asleep!
Her heart was beating fast and her hands were trembling as she unfastened the gold chain from the belt loop and carefully pulled the key from his trouser pocket. She slipped out of the room noiselessly, still stark naked, and hurried to Julio's bedroom. She had to shake him to wake him up.
He used a small pen light to see by until they were in the bathroom. Then, with the door closed, he switched on a light. He took one quick glance at her nakedness, raised his eyebrows and gave her a quizzical look then held his hand out. She handed him the key. He took a hair brush from the medicine cabinet, lifting the bristles out. Jill's eyes widened as she saw the mechanism inside. Mounted against the metal backing was something that looked like a Zippo lighter without a top. It was filled with a kind of red paraffin. Below the device was a battery cell and a tiny switch. Julio dipped the key in a small bottle of white liquid on the basin. Then he turned on the switch and placed the key in the wax. He explained that the cell heated the wax sufficiently to take an impression. In a few seconds, he turned off the switch, waited a few seconds more, then gently pulled out the key, which he washed with hot, soapy water and carefully dried. The whole operation took less than sixty seconds!
"Get this back… and be careful," he told her. Then he kissed her lightly on the lips. "How was it?" he asked, his professional cool barely concealing his jealousy.
"Just a job, like any other job," she answer, trying to appear nonchalant.
"Con cuidado, senorita," he cautioned her. "That is what all the hookers say…"
She left him, her eyes blazing with anger and indignation. This would be the worst part – getting the key chain back on the belt loop and the key into the pocket without being discovered. She would get Julio later for his unkind insinuation. For now, survival was foremost in her mind, and she opened the door a crack to peer into the bedroom. The lamp was still on, and Ernesto's back was to her, as it had been when she left. She estimated that she had been gone about three minutes, possibly four.
It took that much time to get the damned chain back on the belt loop! She was hurriedly gathering up her clothes when she tripped on a shoe, and fell backwards onto the floor!
Garcia awoke with a start. He rolled over, blinked and looked down at her. She looked like a frightened waif with her clothes bundled between her legs.
"What are you doing there, Nina?" His look was more puzzled than suspicious.
Jill's heart was in her throat, and when she spoke, the words came out in a high-pitch squeak. "I… I thought you would sleep better if I went back to my room. Besides, there are people around and…"
He smiled sympathetically at her. "Of course, Nina. I understand. But I shall miss you. Very much."
"I'm going to miss you too, Ernesto. I really will…"