Tiger by the Tail-eARC Read online

  “Register with the police?” Adams said. “Is it mandatory?”

  “Yes. And since we’re skirting it, we should be gone before anyone notices. Just keep your wits about you, and you’ll be fine. Just keep in mind that Lucas must have been to Hong Kong. As Obi-Wan said: ‘You’ll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious.’”

  Catching the confused glance between Vanel and Martya, Jace shook his head.

  “Jeez, Adams, haven’t you shown them Star Wars yet?”

  * * *

  They had approximately twenty hours before the meeting, and there was still a fair bit to do. Daria had handled accommodations and vehicle rental in the city, but had run into a potential logistics snag.

  “Wait a minute, the hotel we’re meeting Than at is where, exactly?” Mike asked.

  “The Ritz-Carlton itself is on floors 103 to 118 of the International Commerce Center overlooking Victoria Harbor. The meeting is set up at a private room at Tin Lung Heen, a Cantonese restaurant on the 102nd floor.”

  “Great, that severely limits our access and egress points if we have to unass in a hurry, or even worse, get out ahead of a building lockdown,” Mike said.

  Daria was unfazed by this development. “According to the conversation between Mr. Than and Yeung Tony, he was most insistent—apparently it is the only place he will meet customers when he is in the city.”

  “Wonderful, a fixer with 5-star tastes,” Mike grumped. “Could he get more public? Whatever happened to meeting in a shady bar or dark alley? Since we don’t have any choice, we’ll play it his way. At least I should be able to get some decent dim sum. What about appropriate clothes? I wasn’t expecting to be heading anywhere with a dress code on this trip.”

  “Two pairs of slacks, two short-sleeved shirts, and two sport coats should be waiting for us at the Royal Pacific Hotel and Towers, along with our rooms. I also took the liberty of having an assortment of clothes tailored for the Keldara who may be appearing in public as well. Two suites, one for operation staging, and one for running surveillance, are also reserved at the Ritz.”

  “Works. So, I’ll be wearing the short-range earpiece for communication with my back-up, assault, and Vanner’s team. What else?” Mike asked.

  “The surveillance pen will also be ready, so that we’ll be able to see and hear what you’re seeing and doing. Given where the meeting is being held, Captain Morgan has suggested that all of the meeting team and backup go in unarmed, unless someone wishes to take something that is undetectable for all intents and purposes. Sergeant Vanner has proposed keeping backup weapons in the comm suite, and the captain agreed, a bit grudgingly, it seemed. If anything goes terribly wrong, the assault team can be summoned. Other than Soon Yi, whom do you expect to accompany you?” Daria asked.

  “With Vanner heading the surveillance team, Morgan and Katya can man the outer room. They will appear to be on a date. Oleg will command Team Jayne in the van in the garage.”

  Daria nodded, making notes. “Initial estimates based on the blueprints and schematics give them a three-minute access time to the room, assuming we will be able to access and override the elevator controls. If they must take the stairs, it will be at least seven minutes.”

  “And then they’ll be almost too pooped to fight, not that they still wouldn’t. Let’s not go all Mission: Impossible here,” Mike said. “This should be a simple sit-down and discussion of the future transaction, maybe a little negotiation. If Oleg and the boys are needed, then something has gone seriously FUBAR.”

  “Of course, Kildar.”

  “One more thing. Have we heard from Adams recently?” The Master Chief had headed out for his meeting with his buddy several hours ago.

  “Nothing yet.”

  “That’s what worries me.” Mike rubbed his chin. “Try to raise him will, you? I just want to be sure that he’s not tearing through the city.”

  “If he was, I am sure that the news stations would pick up the story,” Daria said.

  Mike shook his head. “That is exactly what I do not want to happen.”

  * * *

  Mike and his teams had checked into their rooms at the Royal Pacific in the early morning, trying to be seen by as few people as possible. He’d gotten confirmation that Vanner and the girls were almost set up in their own suite at the Ritz, and would be up and running well before the meeting that night. Mike had them download all of the necessary hotel floor plans to the operation teams, then tried on his clothes for the evening’s op. The olive-green sport coat, cream button-down shirt, and taupe gabardine slacks were all superbly tailored, and the entire outfit was half the cost of anything he could get in Europe. He tried on the Italian, woven brown leather deck shoes and surveyed himself in the full-length mirror. I wonder how they would do with digi-cam fatigues, he thought.

  With a few hours to kill before the pre-op briefing, he decided to go for a run along the harbor. Life on the Big Fish was great, but Mike never wanted to leave land behind; laps on the ship just weren’t the same. After making sure Soon Yi was secure in the adjoining suite, he left the hotel and headed south on Gateway Boulevard, passing the Gateway Towers, a multi-level shopping mall called Ocean Center, then the Marco Polo Hotel, followed by a bland white commercial building called the Star House. Mike passed the Tsim Sha Tsui Pier on his right, then hit a public pier that extended west into the harbor and east along the shore. The walkway, named the Avenue of Stars, was decorated with bronze statues and red and gold monuments highlighting China’s great actors and directors.

  Not giving any of those a passing glance, Mike was also careful to avoid the many tourists reading and taking pictures of their favorite actors and actresses. Instead, he enjoyed the view of the vast harbor that surrounded the small peninsula on three sides. Passing the Hong Kong Museum of Art on his left, he turned that way to cut through the Salisbury Garden and head back into the city. Guided by his smartphone, he navigated the crowded streets, heading steadily north by northwest until he wound up passing the International Commerce Center.

  The modern building, completed just last year, was a tall, gleaming rectangle of glass, with triangular-cut corners at its base. Cars and people swirled around it in a flurry of constant motion, with well-dressed men and women entering and leaving in a steady stream. As he ran past, Mike noted the underground vehicle entrances, as well as the general layout of the surrounding streets and buildings. Although Vanner would have all of this covered with maps and photographs, for Mike there was never a better substitute for boots—and eyes—on the ground. The fact that he could get in his daily exercise while doing a sneak and peek was even better.

  By the time he passed the ICC, he’d worked up a decent sweat—no doubt the extra humidity had a lot to do with that. Although he could have kept going for another hour, he decided to head back, grab a shower and go over the site plans and general op schedule once more.

  Back at the Royal Pacific Towers, he slowed to a walk and entered the gleaming gold, mirrored building, passing the chrome sculpture of jumping dolphins out front. They’d gotten him a plush “Towers Harbour” suite, which was much better than the bare-bones places Mike had stayed while on business in Eastern European. There was a separate parlor area that looked out onto the harbor, with an in-wall flat-screen television, luxurious desk and leather-backed chair, minibar, and all of the standard furnishings. The bedchamber was long, with the soft king bed in the center facing a row of three-quarters windows that gave the guest a panoramic view of Victoria Harbor, not that he had given it more than a cursory glance upon walking in. The beige carpet was thick and soft, and the room had simple, clean lines, with cream walls, a slightly vaulted ceiling and modern, black lacquered nightstands on either side of the bed.

  The marble bathroom off the bedroom was well appointed, with a tub and separate shower stall. As Mike approached the bathroom, he heard water splashing. A short, crumpled dress lay on the floor, next to a pair of well-worn slippers by to the
door.

  What the hell? Keeping his hands at his sides, but ready to strike, he eased up to the door, then shoved it open and burst inside. He got a view of a huge pile of bath suds and a startled yelp as a small figure almost disappeared underneath the mountain of bubbles.

  “What the fuck?” He stepped over to the side of the tub, knelt, and plunged his arm into the bath, encountering hot water and slick, warm flesh. Grabbing what he thought was an arm, he hauled up a dripping, soapy, buck-naked Soon Yi, who coughed and blew out a puff of soap as she cleared her mouth.

  “What the hell are you doing in my room?”

  “I was in the junior suite next door.” She shrugged her slim shoulders. “It was easy to pick the lock. When I saw this tub, I knew where I was spending my time until you returned.” Still dripping water, she stared at him. “Besides, I thought that maybe…you and I could continue where we had left off last night.”

  “Continue?” Mike frowned and made a mental note to have the outside guards sweep prisoner’s rooms every fifteen minutes in the future. He was just lucky he hadn’t had any sort of weapon in the room, otherwise this might have turned out much worse.

  He crossed his arms. “I was pretty much done last night, but go on.” Seeing her athletic body clean and dripping wet, however, was making him want to do things to her all over again.

  “Well, Yeung Tony probably didn’t tell you everything we did together.” She grabbed the washcloth off the rack and slowly began wiping the bubbles from her body, giving him a tantalizing peep show as more skin was uncovered.

  Mike narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re a sub?”

  Soon shook her head, making drops of water splash onto him. “Not quite. But sometimes I do enjoy being overpowered and taken. Tony was good—but judging by last night, I think you’re much better. In fact, I was wishing you hadn’t left so suddenly, not when things were just getting really interesting. But you’re here now, so we can pick up where we left off. However, I am going to make you work for it—”

  She had been wiping down the valley between her breasts, when suddenly she whipped the wet cloth at Mike’s face. He ducked it, but upon coming at her found she had grabbed a towel and thrown that as well. Batting it aside, he reached for her arm, but his fingers slid off her slick skin as she smeared a handful of suds into his face.

  Mike stepped back, trying to block the doorway while clearing his eyes. The bathroom wasn’t large, but Soon was very nimble, and when he felt a touch on his left arm, he reached in that direction, only to come up with empty air. Hearing a mocking laugh behind him, Mike wiped the rest of the soap off and emerged from the bathroom to find a large shape sailing through the air straight at his head!

  Ducking, he heard porcelain shatter, and turned to see one of the lamps that had been beside the bed lying in pieces on the floor. He looked up to see Soon lifting the other one off the nightstand on the far side of the bed. She raised it above her head, glaring at him.

  “Put it down now!” he ordered.

  “You will to have to make me—” she heaved it at him, but Mike was ready this time and caught it. Dropping it on the bed, he stepped onto the mattress and charged after her as she ran into the parlor.

  He had barely cleared the doorway when he found the desk chair lying in his path. Leaping over it, Mike felt his head brush the ceiling. He came down on the other side and took in the room at a glance. Soon had darted around the loveseat and stood staring at him, naked and magnificent.

  Mike was equal parts enraged and engorged. He’d never had a woman who enjoyed foreplay like this—subs were his normal sexual taste, but this was just as big a turn-on as anything he’d ever experienced. He took one step forward. “There’s nowhere to run. You will not make it out that door.”

  “Then I will just have to fight you,” she said, raking her nails across the back of the couch. Her ferocity excited him even more. For the first time, he wasn’t in total control of a scenario, and although it felt strange, this game of cat-and-mouse was also sublimely pleasurable.

  Mike took another step forward, stalking her, trying to freeze her in place with the most predatory glare he could muster. “You are going to pay for resisting me.”

  “Only if you catch me first, and that will not be easy.” She tensed at his next step as Mike weighed his options. Around, over, or through? Around the couch would let her go the other way to escape. Over, and she might be able to duck away from him and reach the other side. That left—

  Mike’s next step took him right in front of the furniture. Soon Yi started to move, but before she could take a step, Mike picked up the couch and flipped it onto its back. Now Soon Yi was the one caught by surprise. She had started to dart left, but was forced to dodge the moving couch. With her cover gone, there was no place left to hide. Instead of fleeing, now she lunged at Mike, both hands going for his face.

  This straight-on attack had no chance of working. Mike grabbed both her wrists and pivoted, using her momentum to fling her around him. Staying with her, he pushed her into the wall, then trapped her with his own so she couldn’t get free. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this hard.

  Even with her wrists pinned and her body trapped, Soon Yi still tried to fight back, craning her neck forward and snapping at Mike’s nose. He reared back and glared at her.

  “That is not going to fly.” He dragged her back into the bedroom and, still holding both her arms, stripped a pillow of its case and gagged her. “That should take care of your mouth until I want it open again.”

  He marched her back into the parlor and over to the desk, which he cleared of its phone, lamp, leather blotter, pad of paper, and pen set with a sweep of his arm. Bending her over the lacquered surface, he kept her hands above her head while forcing his knee between her legs. She tried to head butt him, but he just took the blow on the crown of his head, then backhanded her so hard that his knuckles tingled. Soon’s eyes rolled back as her head lolled on her shoulders.

  He forced her thighs apart and stuck two fingers deep inside her. She was incredibly wet, whether from the bath or the fighting, Mike didn’t know and didn’t care. She shuddered at the impaling, and he thrust them even deeper, rubbing the middle of his fingers against her clit as he withdrew them, then pushing harder inside to reach her cervix. A moan escaped her gritted teeth as he thrust in and out faster.

  That gave him enough time to get the condom out and sheath himself. He didn’t waste time on any preliminaries, just thrust his way inside. All he was knew was that by his third thrust she had wrapped her legs around his waist and ragged little gasps of pleasure were coming from her gagged mouth.

  Mike worked her over for a solid five minutes, until she was trembling all over. But he still didn’t let her hands go, nor did he untie the pillowcase. Instead, he simply pounded the fuck out of her for a long time. After a while, he turned her around, bent her over the desk again, and took her from behind, which excited him even more as she grasped the edge and screamed into the gag.

  The pounding she had taken had left her pussy swollen and dripping, and he gripped her tight little ass with both hands while he fucked the resistance right out of her. She cried out as he varied his penetration, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, her sounds just turning him on even more. His mouth was busy as well, sucking hard and biting at her nipples and breasts.

  Mike felt like he could fuck her forever. He didn’t even need to slow his thrusts or think about anything else to slow his own climax. He had reached that state of almost but not quite light-headed euphoria where he could go literally for hours without losing his erection. It was almost like he was outside himself, watching his body fuck the Chinese whore, and yet he could feel every exquisite sensation…and it was goddamned incredible.

  After a few minutes of that, he grabbed the armless desk chair and set it upright, then sat down in it. Pulling her off the desk, he sat her down on his dick and began thrusting again, making her rise up off him with every pump of his
hips. Soon grabbed his shoulders hard enough to draw blood and threw her head back, whipping her hair back and forth. After a minute, she reached for the gag, but he slapped her hand away.

  “No! Only I do it!” he ordered.

  She nodded, then got off him and turned around so he was penetrating her from a different angle. Mike knew this position well—he could easily get her off a half-dozen times, since the head of his cock was hitting some of the most sensitive spots in the vagina.

  Grabbing her by her short hair, he pulled her head back. She sucked in a breath, and arched her back, trying to relieve the pressure on her spine. Mike wasn’t having any of it, however, and kept the pressure on while he began pumping again. Before long, she was screaming, and he was howling right along with her.

  But he only allowed her three shaking, screaming orgasms before he let himself come, then pulled out. After all, he always wanted to leave them wanting more….

  Breathing hard, he stood over her as she tried to rise from the floor. “You’ve got thirty minutes to get yourself cleaned up and presentable. Try anything against me in that time, and you will regret it.”

  She began crawling to the bathroom while Mike picked up the desk phone, which was off the hook and beeping incessantly. With his pants still down around his ankles, he picked it up and called the front desk. “Yes, this is Mr. Jenkins in Suite 1802. I’m afraid there’s been some damage to the furniture in here…”

  * * *

  Jace let out a low whistle as he escorted Katya into the marbled lower lobby of the Ritz-Carlton, on the ninth floor of the 484-meter-tall International Commerce Building, the tallest skyscraper in the city. “This Than guy sure knows how to live.”

  He’d packed smart casual, and was wearing a black linen button-down shirt under a wrinkle-free tan sport coat, chinos, and leather slip-ons. He wore a borrowed dark pair of Tom Ford sunglasses, and had smoothed his black hair back into a small ponytail, looking like a man striving hard to be at least one step above Eurotrash.