Spy Games Ch 24 1

Notes to readers: Due to a technical glitch, only the first page of this story was published. As Paul Harvey was fond of saying, "here is the rest of the story."

Read chapter ten of Realtor Revenge to experience some of the events from this chapter of Spy Games from Raven's point of view.

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Spy Games

Chapter 24

Janis and I were up before dawn the next morning. After the events of the previous evening, my preference would have been to sleep past 9:00 and then stay in bed with Janis until noon. But we had an extremely busy day ahead of us and business took priority over pleasure.

Just before we got to bed the previous evening, Flanagan sent us a text saying that Raven wanted to go to Janis' grave "as soon as the sun comes up."

"Can you stall her for a couple of hours?" I texted back.

"I'll try," he replied. "I'll take her to breakfast on the way. That should give you an extra hour of sunlight. Last night really freaked her out. She wants to dig up Janis' coffin and, this time, I won't be able to talk her out of it."

This was the day that everything was supposed to come together. The day we would hopefully make Raven disclose why Mayor Stuffit agreed to kill Janis and sell out his town. With that knowledge in hand, our takeover of Merryville would be complete. With Stuffit either out of the way or in our back pocket, we would be ready for the Russian and Chinese terrorists to start moving in.

The first and most arduous task of the morning was to retrieve the drugged Merryville mayor from the trunk of Officer Fanny Muldoon's car and transfer him to Janis' grave. I would have really appreciated Flanagan's muscle, but he was busy babysitting Raven. I considered taking Sixty-nine along with me, but now that things were starting to wind down in our real estate dealings, the Ball Busting Bitch insisted our young financial genius quit playing spy and get back to her primary duties of financial number crunching.

So, with Janis' help, we transferred Stuffit's comatose body from Muldoon's Honda to my rental, drove out to the grave site, and deposited him at the bottom of the hidden hole under the dilapidated shed next to the grave. Then, with the aid of a system of ropes and pulleys, I drug Stuffit down the dirt tunnel which connected the hole to the grave and stuffed him into the coffin. Once he was properly interned, I piled up a foot or so of dirt between the casket and tunnel and made my exit. I essentially reversed the procedure we used to rescue Janis nearly two months earlier.

After confirming that the coffin ventilation system was still functional, Janis and I retreated behind a stand of trees on the eastern edge of the pasture and waited for Flanagan and Raven to show up.

Five minutes later, Flanagan's pickup truck pulled up to the grave site. Flanagan and Raven had a short conversation and then he pulled out an industrial sized weed wacker and started to clear the area around the grave.

"This is going to take a while," I told Janis. "We might as well settle in and get comfortable."

A small creek ran along the back side of the pasture. It was a dozen yards or so from where we were hiding. Knowing it would take at least an hour for Flanagan and Raven to dig up the grave, we came prepared. I pulled two camp chairs, a blanket and cooler out of my rental vehicle and set up a picnic. Thanks to the trees, there was no way Raven or Flanagan could see us but, being only a couple hundred yards from the grave, we had to keep our voices down to keep from being detected.

As much as I would have liked to serve Janis a hot breakfast, I didn't want to risk Raven seeing the smoke from a camp stove. So, our morning meal consisted of pastries, cold cuts, hard boiled eggs, and mimosa. Silently removing the cork from the champagne bottle was a challenge. I used a technique taught to me by Jasmine the sommelier and was able to access the bubbly with only a slight pop.

After breakfast, I snuck through the woods, climbed one of the trees and checked on Flanagan and Raven's progress. To my surprise, Janis joined me.

"Are they getting close?" she whispered.

"Not hardly. It looks like they're just getting started." I handed her my binoculars to let her get a closer look.

"I can't believe Raven is actually helping him. I've never seen her do anything close to manual labor in the thirty some years I've known her. I bet he had to teach her how to use a shovel."

"Yeah. At the rate they're going, it will be noon before they get the hole dug. We might as well get out of this tree and make ourselves comfortable."

"Wait a second. Raven's climbing out of the hole. Do you think she's giving up?"

"I doubt it. According to Flanagan, she's determined to see your dead body."

"Yeah. She's just taking a water break ... Oh my God." She giggled and then handed the binoculars back to me. "She spilled water all over herself and ... well I'll let you see for yourself."

I refocused my view on Raven just in time to see her hang her wet dress and bra on the side of the truck, leaving her wearing nothing but panties and running shoes. As Raven walked back to the grave, picked up her shovel and continued with her task, I figured we had at least an hour to kill.

An hour alone with Janis. Considering we were very close to the end of our mission; it might be one of the last uninterrupted hours we would have with each other ... ever.

Dragging an overweight, comatose mayor through a muddy subterranean tunnel did a number on the jeans and sweatshirt I was wearing. Not wanting to confront Raven underdressed, I brought along an extra set of clothes. Even though Janis didn't crawl through the tunnel with me, she still managed to get her clothes dirty when she helped me drag Stuffit out of the car, to the shed and into the hole. Foreseeing this possibility, she also brought along a more appropriate outfit. But it went against both of our upbringings to put on clean clothes over a dirty body.

It was all we could do to keep from shrieking when we first stepped into the chilly stream. I washed Janis first, giving me the opportunity to run my hands over every inch of her nude body. Since I was a good bit dirtier than Janis, she insisted that I sit down in the shallow water as she scrubbed me from head to toe with a bar of soap and then used a bowl from breakfast to rinse me off. Thoroughly cleaned and chilled, I picked Janis up in my arms and carried her to the blanket.

As we lay next to each other, letting the sun warm us, Janis looked over at me and giggled softly.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"This," she said taking my dick in her hand. "It's shriveled down to the size of a mere mortal."

"Yeah. An ice bath will do that to a man. But I can tell you still want it."

"Oh really? What makes you think that?"

"These," I said as I placed one of her hardened nipples between my fingers.

"Now that's interesting. My nips are hard, and your dick is soft. I wonder if there is anything we can do to make them both stand out?"

"Nothing comes to mind," I teased.

"How about this?" she asked.

With my dick still in her hand, Janis leaned over and pressed her lips to mine. I responded with a plunge of my tongue while my hand left her breast to find her ass. As much as I enjoyed kissing her, after several minutes I longed to put my lips and tongue to better use. I released our lip lock, rolled her onto her back and started a voyage south ... stopping at each boob to make sure her nips were still hard (they were) ... continuing down to her belly button (one of her more sensitive parts) and ending up between her legs.

Janis had the sweetest smelling, most responsive pussy I had ever tasted. Worshipping at her clean shaven alter of love was like a visit to the church of Aphrodite. She was soaking wet before my first lick and had a small climax as soon as my tongue penetrated her lips. A half dozen strokes of my middle two fingers against her g spot brought on another tremor and when I captured her extended clit with my lips and tried to suck it into my mouth, she damn near levitated off the blanket.

Awash in a sea of lady cum, I pulled back from her overheated V to take stock of the situation and get a lungful of morning air. While plotting my next move Janis took the initiative and had me roll over onto my back. She looked at my resurrected boner and then fingered her breasts.

"My oh my. You've grown several inches and my nips are still ready. I wonder what we should do next?"

There is no end of possibilities when two people want to pleasure each other, but when Jains maneuvered to the classic cowgirl position, it was as if she had read my mind. What better way to enjoy a woman than have her massage my cock with her warm slippery pussy giving my hands free access to her amazing boobs while my eyes gazed on her expression of unadulterated carnal delight.

With her knees on the blanket and her hands on my chest, she rocked forward until her nips touched my lips and my cock head nearly escaped from her warm embrace. She held that position for just a second and then slowly settled back until she took my entire length.

Back and forth she rocked. Agonizingly slow, like she was savoring every thrust. Letting me nibble on a nipple as she paused on each upstroke. Flexing her love muscles as she enjoyed the depth of the down strokes. Her ocean blues were fixed on my chocolate browns.

Just looking at her made me extremely happy but what she said next blew me away.

"I love you, Mark Seiman. I may only have you for a few more days, but I know in my heart I will love you forever."

"I love you too, Janis Moorehead. And..."

Before I could continue, Janis put her hand over my mouth.

"No more," she said. "That's all I need to hear. Don't make any promises you can't keep. Let's just enjoy what we have in the here and now."

With that said, she increased her tempo and we made silent but intense love beside the stream.

Thirty to forty-five minutes later ... or maybe it was an entire day (time kind of stood still for a while), I leaned over to check my phone.

"Shit, they're about to open the coffin," I said after reading Flanagan's text. There were also several texts and voice messages from Sixty-nine and the Ball Busting Bitch, which I ignored.

I stood and took a couple of steps towards the woods before Janis brought me back to reality.

"I'm not trying to tell you how to do your job, but wouldn't it be better if we put our clothes back on before we confront Raven?"

We dressed as quickly as possible -- me in a pair of khakis and a polo shirt, Janis in a flowing white summer smock -- and made our way through the trees and across the pasture until we came to the grave. I could see Flanagan standing at the edge of the hole, but I didn't see Raven until we were a mere ten feet away. The once powerful Raven Hardwood was stripped down to her panties and tennis shoes. She was straddling the casket with her back towards us, her body caked with mud and sweat. She didn't hear us approach, so we silently watched as she struggled to open the split casket.

It took her a couple of tries to break the seal and swivel the upper portion of the lid open. Expecting to see Janis' dead and decaying body, Raven gave out a shriek when she saw Mayor Stuffit inside the coffin instead.

"No, that can't be," she cried and unsuccessfully tried to climb out of the grave.

"Not quite what you expected, is it Raven?"

Hearing Janis' voice, Raven spun around. Her flushed face turned ashen white as she spied the woman she thought she killed.

I let the fact that Janis was still breathing sink into Raven's mind for a moment before I showed myself.

"Good morning, Miss Hardwood," I said in the most civil voice I could muster as I put a loving arm around Janis. "I trust you slept well last night."

"This ... this isn't possible. You're dead. You're both dead."

"I'm happy to report that we're not. In fact, I haven't felt this alive for years."

"How about him?" she asked, pointing to Mayor Stuffit.

"Not to worry. He's just sleeping," I said. "We gave him the same drug you gave Janis just before you put her in the grave ... the grave that you and Mayor Stuffit now occupy. But we'll get to that later. Right now, since we're on the subject of the Mayor, I have one last favor to ask before we decide which of you remains in the grave and who gets to cover it with dirt.

"I understand how you got the city council to turn against Miss Moorehead. Blackmail. Or to be precise, you made them falsely believe Janis was blackmailing them. But I haven't been able to figure out what power you have over the Mayor. Please enlighten me."

I could see the wheels turning in Raven's devious mind as she considered her next move.

"He killed Janis' parents," she said after a moment's hesitation.

"Go on."

"I saw him do it."

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere. But, instead of letting you blackmail him for the last eighteen years, why didn't he just do to you what you tried to do to Janis? Why didn't he make you discreetly disappear?"

"I'm not only an eyewitness to the murder. I also have the missing security camera video that recorded the crime."

I thought about what she said and believed her, thinking she was going to use the evidence against Stuffit as a bargaining chip.

"Let me guess. You don't have the video in your home or even in a safe deposit box in the bank. With a simple warrant, a man as powerful as Mayor Stuffit could get access to both. I bet you left the video tape with somebody you trust. Somebody out of state, or maybe even in another country. And whoever is guarding the video tape has instructions to make it public if something happens to you."

"It's with a law firm on the west coast," she said confirming my theory. "If I don't contact them every Monday, they try to contact me. If they don't hear from me for two weeks straight, they send one copy of the tape to the FBI and another to the press."

I took a minute to think through the possibilities before turning to Janis.

"Here are our options my dear. We can leave Stuffit in the coffin -- a fitting punishment for his many crimes -- and turn Raven over to the authorities to face five charges of blackmail and two counts of attempted murder.

"Conversely, we can let Stuffit stand trial for the murder of your parents and let Raven take his place in the coffin.

"Or, and this is my recommendation, we shove Raven into the coffin with Stuffit, nail it shut and be done with it."

As Janis pondered Raven's fate, Flanagan's posture went from relaxed and amused to stiff and alert. Kind of like a bird dog who sniffed out a pheasant. A millisecond later, he pulled his Glock out of its holster and fired a round which passed no more than a foot from my head. I instinctively grabbed Janis and took us down to dirt with my body laying protectively on top of hers.

"Do not move, any of you." I couldn't see him, but I recognized the voice. It was Alek Popov.

"You, the man who just murdered my comrade. Throw down your gun and step away," Popov continued.

Flanagan complied.

"And you Mr. Seiman, you and your lady will stand and join your friend."

As I helped Janis to her feet, I saw one of Popov's men lying in the grass twenty yards behind me with an AK-47 by his side and bullet hole in his forehead.

Once Flanagan, Janis and I were together on the west side of the grave, Popov broke cover and took a position east of the grave. Smart, I thought. If Flanagan and I decide to rush him, we'll not only have to cover the fifteen feet that separates us, we'll also have to jump over or run around the six-foot-deep open grave. The way Popov casually held his pistol made me think one or more of his henchmen were hidden nearby ... most likely staring down the barrels of their Kalashnikovs with Flanagan and me in their gun sights.

Popov looked the three of us over and then peered into the grave which held a nearly naked, big-breasted, black-haired realtor and a comatose overweight mayor.

"Are all American towns as fucked up as this one?" Popov asked.

"It's a long story," I said. "Why don't you and I go somewhere peaceful, share a few drinks, and talk about whatever is bothering you?"

"Do not mistake me for a friend Mr. Seiman. Would you willingly drink with a man who raped your wife, daughter, and housekeeper?"

"That's quite an accusation. Do you have any proof to back it up?"

Popov pointed down into the grave.

"All the proof I need is hanging from your realtor's neck."

Sure enough, I didn't notice it before, but hanging between Raven's mammoth tits was the dolphin entangled pearl necklace that I stole from Popov's wife and gave to Janis ... who subsequently had it stolen by Raven ... who -- for some odd reason -- decided to wear it while digging up Janis' grave.

"How the hell does a simple necklace prove anything?" I asked feigning innocence.

"By itself, it means nothing. As you say, it is a mere trinket that I used to placate my wife. But when your Miss Hardwood informed me that it was a present from you, I became suspicious.

"While I do not know your real name or who you work for, the DNA sample I extracted from Miss Harwood's pussy the night of our party confirms that your dick had been inside both my wife and daughter. And, if I'm not mistaken, once we send a sample of your sharp shooting compatriot's blood to the lab, I believe his DNA will match the semen sample we found in my housekeeper's ass.

"You should be more careful Mr. Seiman. A man in your line of work should keep his dick in his pants and out of his adversaries' women."

Which was exactly what the Ball Busting Bitch told me not two months ago. God, I hate when she is right.

"I heard the choices you gave Miss Hardwood," Popov continued. "Now it is time for you to hear yours.

"Gentlemen, you are going to die. Right here. Right now. I thank you for digging your own graves. That will save us a good bit of time and trouble. Now please lower the ladder so Miss Hardwood can join me and my men. Once she is above ground, I expect the two of you to take her place. If you cooperate, I will kill you before we bury you. If you resist, we will just bury you and let nature take its course."

"What about the ladies?" I asked. "They had nothing to do with this."

"Don't worry about your whores. I already have a buyer for the five Russian girls that accompanied me to this shithole of a town. I'm sure he will gladly pay a premium for two large breasted American beauties."

"I suggest a third option," I said. "A red laser dot from a high-powered rifle scope is hovering over your heart as we speak. If you drop your gun and have your men do the same, I will let you live. Otherwise, you will be the ones in the grave."

Yeah. It was a weak excuse for a threat. But I was desperate and couldn't think of anything else. With a little luck, Popov would shoot me first, giving Flanagan time to retrieve his pistol and possibly keep the Russians occupied while Janis ran for her life.

Popov laughed. "Do you take me for a novice? Do you expect me to fall for the oldest trick in the book? No Mr. Seiman. I am not that easily distracted. I am not going to look down at my chest so you and your friend can attack me. And since you refuse to cooperate, I am forced to take extreme measures."

Popov shifted his aim from my chest down to my crotch. It seemed a fitting end. That was the part of my anatomy that got me into this situation, so it was only right that it was the first to expire.

Boom!

I saw the round hit Popov before I heard the retort of the rifle. The force of the .50 caliber bullet threw him back several feet. He was dead before he hit the ground. The second shot was followed by a scream of agony from an area of tall weeds not fifty feet off to our right.