A Castle of Sand by LongDarkRoad
Chapter 21 Sugar, Sugar
“…when I kissed you girl, I knew how sweet a kiss could be. Like the summer sunshine, pour your sweetness over me…”
“So, this comes as an unpleasant surprise?” Silverberg said, waggling the letters form Lana Gallo and Christine Callister.
Julia Sullivan rubbed her stubby nose, “Yes, well, Callister certainly, she’s only been here a month or so, but I knew Gallo was, um, restless. Technically they’re not giving us thirty days, but what’s the point…”
Silverberg sat quietly; this bothered him, and he didn’t like admitting it. He liked Christine Callister; he had no dreams of them becoming an item or anything, he just genuinely liked her; he sighed. “I agree. Um, do you think the, er, situation with the Korean woman played a part?”
Sullivan pondered again, “Ummmm, Callister never said anything, but I know she was, upset, with, well, everything, including herself. She, um, swore the last time we talked, actually said the uh, F-word, which is very unlike her. But I think this decision was mostly Gallo’s plan and Christine is just going along. It’s her nature, Sir.”
Silverberg regarded his assistant. “What do you mean?”
Sullivan rubbed her nose again, “She’s not a leader, Sir, she follows, and she really is drawn to confident, almost aggressive people, especially women. This is Gallo’s lead, and Callister is following, Sir. At least, that’s my opinion.”
They sat. Finally Silverberg murmured. “I want to see her, Miss Callister I mean, before she, leaves.”
Sullivan nodded her head. “Yes, Sir.”
* * * *
Capitol Hill continued to be abuzz with activity and emotion following General Ostrander’s death; although the press releases had been fed a story about an accident, many people knew the truth. The killing of a high-ranking military officer on home soil was unheard of; though, as was pointed out, the Kennedy brothers, a president and a senator on the road to a presidential election, and Martin Luther King had all been shot down in U.S. cities.
“Lone nuts,” was the chorus; “and we need more control.”
The Attorney General was being his usual vocal self on this, although away from the cameras. The move was now on to replace Ostrander, and many were pushing for someone with the same ‘outlook’. Frank May was hoping desperately it would be someone very unlike the unpleasant man.
* * * *
Anne had called to arrange the final meeting, and her choice of location was different although not unusual for spooks; this time it was a movie theater. As he entered, Eagleton noted the feature, something called ‘Easy Rider’ was playing, but that wasn’t the important thing; it was getting Anne’s ‘shit’ to her so she could get out of town.
The young woman had chosen a spot back row, far corner, and Eagleton moved over and wedged his large frame into the adjacent seat. “Popcorn?” Anne asked, holding out the bag.
Eagleton chuckled, “No, I really don’t need any, but thanks.” He paused as the opening credits rolled, noting the name Peter Fonda, and thinking that could be Henry’s boy. “So, I heard from our guys and they were very happy with your info.”
Anne smiled, “That means I won’t be packed off to Alcatraz?”
Eagleton chuckled, “That place’s been shut down for a while, kid. But no, we’re happy, so here you go,” he said, handing Anne a key. “Everything’s in this locker, new passport, driver’s licence, cash, etcetera. You can just disappear.”
“Yeah,” Anne murmured, “thanks.” She ate some more popcorn. “And what about you, Mr. Eagleton. I hear rumblings of you maybe, you know, hanging up the old handcuffs?”
Eagleton had to smile, amazed at her sources. “You know, I think the KGB and the CIA should just move into the same office building; it would save time.” They both chuckled, then he continued. “Yeah, there might be some changes in store a little down the road; I’m weighing my options.”
Anne stood up, and looked down into the face of the large man. “Travel plans, or just working in your garden?”
Eagleton regarded her, thinking again how young, and pretty, she was. “I don’t have a garden,” he smiled. Then for a man who had played his cards close to his vest all his years, Eagleton said, “I do hear, though, that the Bahamas are real nice in January; certainly nicer than Washington.”
Anne studied him, then smirked, “Most places are nicer in January than Washington, Mr. Eagleton.”
Eagleton had to chuckle at that truth; “Please, call me Cliff,” he held out his hand, “Good luck, Elaine,” he said with a smile.
“That’ll take some getting used to,” she murmured.
“So,” he added, for some reason reluctant to see her go, “what’s this movie you’ve dragged me to?”
Anne looked at the screen and smiled, “Easy Rider, Dad. Two hippies take off on their choppers, lookin’ for America.”
Eagleton ‘hmmmm’d’; “Really. Do they find it?” He smiled.
Anne, now Elaine, looked down at the man, an odd expression on her face, “They get gunned down at the end.” She turned and headed down the dark row of seats.
* * * *
Christine sat nervously outside Silverberg’s office; it had been a while since her last visit here. The door opened and the man himself beckoned her in, directing her to a chair by his. “Good to see you, Miss Callister,” he said, pleasantly, if somewhat stiffly.
Feeling incredibly awkward, Christine nodded her brunette head, the curls shaking, and murmured, “Thank you, Sir. It’s, uh, good to see you, too.” She looked down, feeling like she had done something wrong.
“I’m not upset, Miss Callister, so please look at me,” Silverberg said quietly, and Christine looked up, “and I haven’t asked you here to try to change your mind. I, well, I just wanted to talk face to face. Our last, um, visit, was not something I was, happy with.”
Christine moistened her lips and tried to smile, “It was, a little, tense, sir. I’m sorry with how things turned out. Everything moved very quickly; I was, um, overwhelmed.”
Silverberg nodded and pulled out a Pall Mall. Lighting it, he looked with almost sad eyes at his soon-to-be former employee. “I want you to know, Christine, that if things don’t work out, I want you to come back. There will be absolutely no grudges from this side. Nothing held against you.”
Christine smiled, “Now, you’re just trying to make me cry, and, um, it wouldn’t be hard…” She paused, and looked up, Silverberg noting again how extraordinarily beautiful this young woman was. She really didn’t belong here, he had to admit. He was being selfish, wanting to keep her.
He handed her a card, “This has my home phone number and this direct line on it. I want you to call, anytime, if you’re in a jam or just feeling, well, overwhelmed. Or anything, just needing someone to talk to; whatever. I will come and get you or meet you or well, you name it. A young woman like you should not be alone, ever. I’ve got your back, Christine; I want you to know that.”
She took the card, nodded and paused, wanting to say something, but then just stood and walked briskly out the door. She wasn’t going to cry like a baby in front of this man; she respected him too much.
Silverberg watched the retreating form and ran his hand over his face, thinking, God damn it.
* * * *
Laverne jumped, because sitting at her kitchen table was Anne Kasey. “Oh my God,” Laverne exclaimed and Anne came to her and held her.
“Listen, Lavvy. I don’t have much time. I’ve made the mistake of caring about you; a lot, okay. But I’m in a jam and I need to clear out for a while.”
“What do you mean? D-does this, mmm, have anything to do with, the general?”
“Why do you say that?” Anne asked, evenly.
“Well, it’s just a coincidence is all, and oh, Christ, I don’t know. My life is not the same since you entered it, Anne. That’s all. That’s it. What are you asking for? What do you need?”
“I’m asking you to trust me, babe, and I will contact you later. If you don’t hear from me for a few weeks, don’t worry. I’m swearing to you, that I will get back to you. Please have patience.”
“Why are you doing this, coming to me, saying, good-bye?”
Anne held the other woman for a few moments; she could feel the beating of Laverne’s heart. “I don’t want this to be good-bye. I can’t explain it. I will tell you more, but, answer me truthfully, Laverne.” They both stood in silence. “If I were to ask you to come and meet me somewhere, let’s call it a vacation, would you come, no questions asked?”
Laverne gripped Anne tighter. “Yes,” she whispered into the blonde hair. She didn’t need to say that she would go to her, anywhere, anytime.
* * * *
Hie Dhang’s estate was bordered by a forest, giving her residence privacy. She was at this moment riding in a single person cart around her property; her horse was a naked girl, laboring to haul the cart, as usually two girls were harnessed to it. Hyun, however, was pulling by herself, part of her ongoing punishment.
Her head (as she had warned Christine) and her entire body, had been shaved. As they moved, Dhang would flick her whip out to strike the girl’s round buttocks whenever the Madame felt they were not moving quickly enough. Or whenever she simply felt like punishing her slave.
Dhang was still annoyed, having sat today and looked over the stack of photographs, now developed, of her ‘American Whore’. At some point her annoyance might ebb and she might allow Hyun to simply serve her; but not today. After the ride around the property, Hyun would be tied and whipped.
It was only fair, Dhang told herself; Hyun had brought this upon herself.
* * * *
The week had ebbed by painfully, with the entire ‘crew’ finding it hard to be focused and not think about, things.
Wednesday evening Christine was lying with Gerry, neither woman interested this week in ‘doing anything’; no Miss Gerry or Slave-girl. “I’m going to miss you, Chris,” Gerry whispered, hugging Christine to her.
“Oh God Gerry, don’t start; I’m barely keeping it together. I just wish tomorrow was over, it’s going to be so lousy; I’m so bummed out I can’t even think straight.”
“I know, Jesus freakin’ son-of-a-bitch, I know.” Gerry then hugged even harder and Christine could feel tears against her back, and that started her own waterworks, with Christine eventually turning so she could be face to face, knowing this was her last night in the house. Tomorrow night she and Lana would be sleeping in their new beds, in their new apartment.
It was exciting to be sure, but this leaving was something Christine had never experienced.
Well, maybe the once, when she had walked down the street and away from Elizabeth Devers; the aching she had felt that day had been unbelievable.
* * * *
Bob Fuller placed the last stack of bills in the tenth duffle bag; fifty thousand each in ten bags, and now each bag would be placed into hiding. It was so tempting to start spending this money, but Bob had been nothing if not patient over his career. He would do this right and bring no suspicion down upon himself.
There had not been a peep about the drug heist, one of the positives about having bad guys rip off bad guys. But the murder of General Ostrander had provided a great diversion; every available agent was assigned something to do with the case, and Fuller was glad he did not have a lead role. The pressure was intense but so far no real leads had been uncovered.
This certainly was not the act of some lone whack job; but like Lee Harvey Oswald, Elroy Stubbs was conveniently dead, and would reveal nothing.
Fuller now counted off a hundred in twenties (he had peeled a thousand dollars off of one pile to keep as ‘fun money’) and slipped the bills in a pocket.
He would treat himself to a street hooker on a Saturday night; he’d earned it.
* * * *
Lana looked her roommate over; “You look great, kid. How do you feel?”
Christine regarded her friend as they stood in the hall of their new apartment, things still seeming unreal. There had not been a lot of time to sit around and reminisce or feel sorry, as they had left work Thursday then worked on their apartment Friday and now Madam Lu had them each with their first clients on a Saturday night.
“Nervous, still kind of in shock, my mind won’t stop spinning, but that’s nothing new. And you?”
“Same. Now remember, check in with Lu; I want to know where you are and what’s happening.”
“We should have arranged a double-date.” Christine smiled.
“Good plan, kid. We’ll mention that to the boss.”
* * * *
The restaurant Lana was to meet her client in was called 1789, a high-end establishment that she had never been in. Waiting for her as she walked in was a tall, silver-haired gentleman. “Good evening, I’m Clarence, and it’s, Lana, I believe?” He said, smiling pleasantly. Lana noted immediately the rings on both his hands; both sporting large diamonds and one was clearly a wedding band.
“Good evening, Clarence, yes, I’m Lana.” Both women had decided, after consultation with Miss Lu, that they would simply use their own names, for this. The upcoming movie was a different matter.
“Enchanted my dear, and my God, Miss Lu was not exaggerating when she said you were stunning, please…” and he offered his arm, then led the way to the waiting table.
* * * *
Christine’s John was actually a Jill, as Madam Lu kept her word, matching Christine up with a woman. Lu had in fact put out the word to her female client list of the availability of a new girl.
The elegantly dressed woman, likely mid-forties, an inch or two shorter than Christine, light blonde hair worn short, stood and smiled. “Lovely to meet you. Glenna Wallenberg.” She held out a gloved hand, “And it’s Christine?”
Christine nodded as she gently shook hands, “Yes, lovely to meet you too,” and then they went in to find a table waiting by a window, with a view of the dome.
Wallenberg clearly was a person used to luxury and attentiveness. The waitresses were never far from their table all night; the white wine was excellent, as were the appetizers and main course.
“Please, if I have any dessert I will be unable to move,” Christine protested with a smile, two hours later.
“Coffee at least?” Wallenberg prodded, Christine agreeing. As they waited for this, the woman looked into Christine’s eyes, “It would not be good for you to be unable to move. I’m looking forward to your, um, body, moving.”
Christine was pleased with the sexual surge that stirred through her with the woman’s words and her attractive, pleasant face. “I’m looking forward to being with you, Mrs. Wallenberg.”
The woman waved an elegant hand, “Glenna, please,” She smiled, “and is it really Christine?” Christine nodded. “And you prefer to be with, women?”
Christine nodded again, as the coffee arrived. “I do. Obviously, with a husband, you are, um, comfortable with either?”
Wallenberg smiled, “Well, sex isn’t one of the big things with Henry, we have many other interests. He’s here, in Washington right now actually, just staying at a different hotel. It’s our little, arrangement.”
They sat in silence for a moment, before Wallenberg murmured, “Open your legs wider.” As Christine smiled and complied, Wallenberg looked under the table. Christine had dressed as directed, with nylons, garter and no underwear. “You’re shaved,” Wallenberg said, coming up, her eyes literally twinkling.
“I am. I, um, hope you’re okay with that?”
Wallenberg simply sat and gazed, “Oh my God, dear, you are the real deal.” Both women sipped their coffee, regarding one another. “Are you prepared to, stay the night with me?”
Christine was aware of this possibility and the extra money it provided. “If you want,” she said, quietly.
Wallenberg sighed audibly. “Oh my dear, my absolutely beautiful dear, I want. Believe me, I want. Finish your coffee, I need to get you alone.”
* * * *
Their dinner together was excellent and now Lana and Clarence walked arm in arm the short block to his hotel. Going up in the elevator, even in her heels, Lana needed to lean up to kiss her partner on the cheek, an action that brought a smile.
“You’re okay if we, well, just sit and talk for a while, my dear. I’ve ordered us some brandies.”
“I’m good with whatever you want, Clarence,” Lana murmured, bringing another smile to the man’s face.
He looked at her, “Who says money can’t buy happiness?” He grinned, as the elevator came to a stop on one of the upper, exclusive floors.
Lana smiled, “It can certainly rent it for a while.” They both chuckled.
* * * *
Glenna Wallenberg didn’t so much cry out as simply issue a long, low moan that seemed to come from deep within her guts. Christine gently kissed the downy, golden pubic curls and then moved up to lie beside the woman, stroking her face.
Eventually Wallenberg opened her eyes, and smiled a dreamy smile. “Oh my God,” she said again, quietly, “pour some more sugar over me. Oh dear God.” She looked into Christine’s eyes. “Why on earth hasn’t someone snapped you up by now?”
Christine grinned, “Well, there have been offers. But, here I am, and tonight I’m all yours.”
Wallenberg gently shook her head. “No way, my girl. I’m all yours.”
* * * *
The taxi pulled up to the curb and Lana got in. Their new apartment was not that far but still too much of a hike, especially in high heels.
Once on their way, Lana counted the money in the envelope and shook her head; one thousand dollars, and then there was the hundred dollar bill that Clarence had slipped into Lana’s stole.
The man was the vice-president of Tran-Am Continental Airlines, so the money wasn’t a huge deal to him, but for someone like Lana who had always needed to count nickels, it was astounding. Clarence had mentioned that he was based in Atlanta but in Washington three or four times a year, and he wanted ‘dinner’ with her again on his next visit.
Much like her previous client, Lana found Clarence very easy to be with and deal with; a widower of four years, who still wore his ring, he mostly wanted companionship, but Lana had managed to get him hard enough to slip a condom on and have him enter her as she lay on her side. He was inside less than a minute before he came and then lay with a huge grin on his face, for ten minutes.
Lana had then hauled him into the shower and they had soaped each other, much to Clarence’s delight, with Lana even managing to keep her hair dry.
Lana called Madame Lucy from the house phone and was informed that Christine had an all-nighter. “I’ll be back in touch tomorrow, darling,” Nagy crooned, sounding like Zsa Zsa Gabor.
Could she ever be a street hooker, Lana pondered as her cab pulled up to their new apartment? It would need to be absolutely necessary, then maybe. This, on the other hand, was a piece of cake. So far.
* * * *
Christine and Wallenberg ate a leisurely breakfast in their room. As she finished her second cup of excellent coffee, the woman looked at Christine and murmured, “It’s none of my business, and you can tell me to jump in the lake, but I’m wondering about your plans. Is this,” she glanced around the hotel room, “what you plan to do with your life.”
Christine smiled across at the older woman; she felt good, relaxed, happy even. She’d experienced a mild climax, but she was satisfied with that because there had been no role-playing, domination or humiliation. Wallenberg was, like herself, tender, loving and submissive. The match had worked, on a certain level.
And now she didn’t mind chatting after a nice breakfast. “I haven’t thought about it, to be honest, Glenna. Although, my friend, who also works for Madam Lu, and I are going to New York in a few days to film a, well, a sex movie. I guess it’s something that’s really catching on up there.”
Wallenberg sat considering, “You know, an acquaintance of mine recently saw that Warhol movie, Blue Something, and it showed, um, actual intercourse. My friend says it wasn’t much of a movie, but it’s got a buzz because it shows a man and a woman, well, doing it. Right there, up on the big screen, not at some little stag party somewhere.”
Christine nodded. “Madam Lu say it’s going to be a huge business, and we’re going to get in early.”
Wallenberg regarded Christine thoughtfully, “You don’t mind people seeing you, like that, doing well, that?”
Christine paused. “No, I like being watched, actually. I was raised in a very uptight home, but I never felt bad about my body. Now that I’ve had sex while people watched and found it exciting, well, there you go. Now’s the time when I can do this, right; time is not our friend, Glenna. These,” here Christine squeezed her breasts, “aren’t going to get any better, right?”
Wallenberg smiled and nodded, “No, they are spectacular right now. They are the nicest, mmm, titties I’ve ever seen, to be blunt. So, it’s Lucy Nagy who’s helping you with this movie, thing?”
Christine nodded, “It’s her thing, really; we’re being paid. I don’t know any more.”
“Hmmmm,” Wallenberg murmured, “I’m going to have to have a chat with that gal. I, um, I’m a very wealthy woman, Christine, and I like dabbling here and there. Maybe I could help you.”
* * * *
On the way back in her cab, Christine counted the money in her envelope. There was an amazing twelve hundred dollars and Wallenberg had forced another three hundred on her, “Buy yourself something, I mean it. And you’re the woman I want whenever I’m in town,” she had said, and Christine had smiled, thinking she would be happy to spend some more time with this gracious woman; and this movie thing, it might actually turn out to be something, after all.
(End of Chapter 21)