Walking the Thin Red Line by ReeseisLAVAhot, schoolbusgirl

CHAPTER 1

I was awaked by the sound of metal hitting metal. I looked over at the clock and it read 5:35 am. I knew John was a morning person, but this was even early for him. Reaching for my robe at the edge of the bed, I slowly pulled myself together. The noise was coming from the other room, the one we had turned into an exercise room. One wall had been covered with mirrors and two others were floor to ceiling windows with reinforced, bullet proof glass. Harold had spared no expense in outfitting the apartment for us. Closest to the mirrors, the room contained a heavy sack for boxing, a weight bench and further over, there was a treadmill and an elliptical. Harold had seemed to consider the money well spent when it came to providing us with a few luxuries and had even used the room himself during the months he had stayed with us while recovering from the kidnapping episode he and I had been involved in.

Walking into the room, I now realized what the metal on metal sound was. John was working out on his weight machine. He stopped for a moment when I walked over to him and gave him a long, leisurely good morning kiss.

"Good morning.” He whispered. “I'm sorry I woke you. I got a text at 5 am from Finch telling me I needed to beef up my exercise program. He also wants to see us both at 8 am.”

“Alright, I’ll go put on a pot of coffee and jump in the shower, shall I?” John nodded and went back to lifting weights.

I padded down the hall, past two bedrooms, one was the one that Harold stayed in while he was recuperating, the other one being the one that John and I shared. After the kidnapping incident in which John had come to save Harold and me from a mob boss determined to use us as leverage against him, my relationship with John had grown and deepened. We gave up our separate apartments and moved in together, both of us feeling the need to keep the other in sight whenever possible. I didn’t like to think back to that terrifying experience, the one where both Harold and me had been injured and almost killed. But if there was one good thing about the whole incident, it was that the three of us had become much closer as a result. John and I had taken turns caring for Harold for the three months that he lived with us and couldn’t do for himself. It had also demonstrated to John and I just how important we were to each other. I now had no trouble telling John that I loved him and he had no trouble reciprocating. We had both been trying so hard not to hurt the other by revealing how deeply we cared, out of mistaken concern that the other might not return the feelings to the same degree. But all that was over now.

Past the bedrooms was the bathroom and off to one side, the kitchen. As I went to the coffee pot, I mentally checked off the places that John and I had stashed guns around the room: the Luger in the dish cupboard, the Smith and Wesson in the canister next to the flour on the countertop, the Calico sub machine gun in the pots and pans drawer. Every room had a similar cache of concealed weapons. I started the coffee up and then went into the bathroom to shower before John might need to get in himself.

I closed the bathroom door allowing for privacy and turned on the shower. My head felt a little numb from allergies, and the steam quickly worked its magic on my body and my throbbing sinuses. In the three months that Harold was recuperating, I had taken on more than just a research and development position. The numbers didn't stop, just because Harold wasn't in the library. We did manage to hook up a temporary office computer, while he was staying with us. But I could tell he missed the privacy of the library. During his stay with us, he even managed to call me by my first name a few times. Every time he did, I smiled inside. We had become a family, an unconventional family, but still a family. After I finished showering and toweling off, I walked into the bedroom and found John sprawled naked on his back across our bed, arms behind his head. His manhood was already standing at full and erect attention. I dropped my towel and obligingly went to him. He had his eyes closed. I straddled either side of him, but didn't allow his manhood to enter me. I just sat there, teasing him, rubbing back and forth on his fully swollen penis. He half opened one eye and a smirky smile crossed his lips. He was in no mood to be teased. He was always horny and raring to go after a weight session. His testosterone levels were off the charts after a workout.

"You're going to be like that, are you?" he asked, smiling up at me.

He grabbed me and rolled over in one smooth movement. I just had time to close my legs before a second later, he was on top of me. I gave him a challenging grin and waited to see what he would do next. His scent was especially potent after his workout and when he leaned down to kiss me, I breathed in deeply. Instead of kissing me though, he lightly nipped my neck and shoulder causing me to laugh and move just enough so that he was able to force my legs open. He growled a little at his own cleverness, leaned in and this time kissed me very thoroughly, leaving me breathless.

In the morning it was sex, rough and playful. In the evening, it was making love, soft and tender. After his workout sessions, he was extremely frisky and his arm muscles bulged under his skin. In one quick movement he pushed inside me, and I gasped from the force. My legs went up and around his waist, allowing him deeper access. My arms went up around his neck and I could feel his breath in my ear. He was breathing heavy. We were both breathing heavy. I met him thrust for thrust and moaned in ecstasy as I came first and then he pushed hard one last time and we both rode the wave together.

John held me tight for a second and then said "NOW, I feel like I really got a workout. I guess it's time for us to get ready and go see what Harold wants."

I watched him get up and smiled to see such perfection in a male body. It gave me such a thrill to see him and know that he was mine. I knew other women saw him and wanted him. Very often they tried to do more than just ogle him, but John always put them off. I had no concerns on that front. John was as loyal as they came and we both loved each other too much to do that to one another.

I got up and dressed in a skirt and blouse. There were times when John's enthusiastic sex made me feel more feminine and this was one of those times. I went out to the kitchen to pour some coffee and throw together a breakfast. John was usually hungry after expending so much energy working out. After breakfast, we cleaned up the dishes and left the apartment for the library. The minute we walked out the door, John went into a higher form of alertness, his eyes always seeing and measuring the people around him, his hand was never far from reaching for his gun.

Upon arriving at the library, Harold greeted us with a cheerful “Good Morning”. He was surprisingly hesitant to hand us our new number and after an explanation we understood why. Our next person of interest was the owner of a high class male strip club called Dante’s Inferno. Mr. Topper, the owner, only employed the best of the best. There was no touching of dancers or total nudity. Apparently, the owner was having trouble with the mob. They were pressuring him to go with more nudity, so they could use his bar as a front for laundering money with the increased revenue. The owner’s wife had been threatened with bodily harm if he didn't give in. Harold explained that it was going to be my job to bartend and John was going to have to become a male stripper. John was none too happy with this prospect. He fought Harold hard about it. Harold argued that it was John’s job to protect the new person of interest.

John countered with, “I know nothing about stripping!”

Harold gave him a sharp look and said, “You mean you’ve never been to a strip club? I find that hard to believe Mr. Reese. It’s the same concept after all.”

John just gave Harold a withering look and glanced at me. Harold noticed the glance. “Oh, sorry Cecilia.” I shrugged.

Harold then handed him a manual on different stripping techniques causing John to growl through gritted teeth. “You have one week to memorize the different stripping poses and Cecilia will be attending bartender school in the meantime.” Harold told us.

I was not quite sure what upset John more, the idea that he'd be stripping or the fact that while stripping, he wouldn't be able to carry a gun. For as long as I knew him, he had always had a gun tucked away somewhere on his person. The prospect of John taking off most of his clothes in front of a bunch of screaming women was not that appealing to me either but I was more concerned that while he was, I would be the only protection he had. I would at least be able to stash a gun behind the bar. John walked out of the room, casting angry looks at Harold. I knew he would be trying to think of other ways to protect our number without having to resort to stripping.

"There's no other way, Harold?" I asked.

"No, I'm sorry Cecilia. Mr. Topper only hires men as strippers, nothing else. John will have no reason to keep an eye on the owner or his wife. The only other option is to send you in alone, and I know I wouldn't be comfortable with that. I'm pretty sure John will feel the same once he has had a chance to think about it."

Moments later, I got a text to meet John at our apartment. When I walked in, he was working out his frustrations on the punching bag. The thought of stripping for a bunch of horny women held no appeal for him what so ever. When I walked into the room , he discontinued his pummeling of the bag and walked over to kiss me hello. He wasn't happy about his next assignment at all. Usually John took most things in stride, but this was really bothering him.

I spoke first, “John, this is not a big deal, we can handle this.” He groaned in disgust as a response then walked past me and into the kitchen for a glass of water.

“Well, if I have to do this, at least you'll be behind the bar to watch over me, in case an aggressive female wanders up on stage to sample the goods.” and with that, we both laughed.

"You're going to be one of the most requested dancers, I know it. Perhaps I should be the one who’s so upset, all those women ogling what’s rightfully mine." I smiled. "We don't have to like it John, we just have to do it. By the way, I'd be happy to critique your performance anytime." I told him with a mischievous look.

I continued. "They say no knowledge is ever wasted. Or perhaps I can help you practice how to fight off those aggressive females." I walked up to him and gave his ass a squeeze. He growled a little and pulled me up hard against his body and kissed me, his tongue taking possession of my mouth, pushing in and invading it.

"I hope you feel the same way each night when we come home. After stripping all night, I'm going to need some relief." he smiled impishly and then said, "After all, you don't have to like it, you just have to do it."

I spluttered a moment at that but then smiled. "Whatever you say, Mr. Reese."

That night and for the next several nights I attended a bartending class, learning how to make the most popular drinks and more importantly, how to do it quickly. Bartending was not about quality necessarily as about quantity. As far as how John was doing working on his moves, I didn't know. We rarely ran into each other much those few days. Harold told me when I asked, that John had was out and about figuring out the area around the bar and locating all the places where a hit team might try and take out their targets. We had all agreed that it would be best if I started the night before John so that no one would connect the two of us together. John was to keep a watch out from a nearby storefront in case I needed help. My first day on the job was a real eye opener.

My first eye opening experience dealt with the other female bartender. Every third drink she poured she would pocket the money, skimming one out of three from the till. I estimated she was costing the owners about $150 a night. On my second night, John started. He had refused to tell me anything about his wardrobe or music during the past week of rehearsing. Every night, he came home wound up tighter than a drum and worked out furiously on the punching bag before coming to bed.

However, the moment I heard "Secret Agent" man by Johnny Rivers I knew it was for John. I couldn’t believe he would be that bold. He walked out on stage in front of about fifty women and just stood there, all 6’5’’ inches of handsome man. He never moved a muscle. He was dressed in his usual attire of a suit plus a tie. The women went wild. The more he just stood there, the more the women screamed. They went crazy over this tall dark handsome stranger that refused to strip for them. When the music ended, he walked off stage and the women screamed his name over and over again. "Secret Agent Man! Secret Agent Man!" I couldn't believe my eyes or my ears. He had done nothing and they wanted more, were demanding more.

The next night he did the same and the next. However, on the fourth night, the bar was packed to standing room only. The man, known as the "Secret Agent Man" had become the bar’s most popular stripper and he never removed a stitch of clothing. On the fifth night, they were turning away women at the door. Finally, on the sixth night John removed his coat and unbuttoned his shirt. The women went wild and many had to be forcibly removed from the stage.

Meanwhile, every night I poured the alcohol, watched John making all the women crazy and watched for a sign that the mob was ready to take more direct action. I also watched and had Harold record the other bartender skimming money. I couldn't believe that the owners weren't noticing the fact that the alcohol sales were not commiserate with how much alcohol was being used. On the sixth night, I finally figured out that she was watering down the drinks significantly to make up for the difference. None of the women in the bar seemed to notice because they were too wrapped up in John's little show. When we got home on the sixth night, I asked John how long he was going to keep up the little charade he was playing.

"As long as I can." he growled sharply and went back to punching the bag. He stopped again and apologized for being short with me. "I'm just so frustrated with this job! It's going nowhere fast. We have yet to even identify which hit men have been hired to take out the owner and his wife, much less neutralized them! "

The next morning, Harold called us to the library bright and early. He too was frustrated by our lack of progress and said we needed to step up our game and flush the would-be assailants out. Harold suspected that the other bartender might be in on the hit because other than John, the rest of the male strippers were longtime employees and unlikely to be involved. So, the owners were told about the skimming and immediately fired the other female bartender.

Before she left, she turned to me and spat out. "You'll pay for this Bitch! You don't know who you're dealing with!" That night after closing, the bar was broken into. Bottles of booze were broken everywhere, but nothing else was disturbed. As it turned out, we found our connection then. The female bartenders’ boyfriend was the bars alcohol supplier. He was heavily connected to the mob and supplied all of the alcohol to the bars the mob used as a front for money laundering. We finally had our hit men, a fact that was confirmed when I found a knife on the bar with a note stuck to it that said, "Make a choice, your wife or your son".

The owner was frantic when I showed him the letter. "Oh my God!" he said, "What am I going to do?" he noticed that I was still standing there and told me to get downstairs and clean up the mess. We were opening the bar in two hours. I watched from downstairs as he paced back and forth in his office, a phone to his ear the entire time. He was yelling into the phone but I couldn't make out what he was saying.

"Harold, do you have audio in the office?" I quietly asked.

"Yes, MR. Right now, Mr. Topper is trying to hire a bunch of bodyguards and figure out where he's going to hide his wife and son. However, any body guards he hires at this point are just as likely to be working for the mob. He and his wife need to stay in the bar where you and Mr. Reese can keep an eye on them until I can figure out a way to get them all to a safe house undetected. At least the child is young enough that I may be able to send Fusco to collect him from the sitter's without too much trouble. Whatever you and Mr. Reese decide to do, it's imperative that Mr. and Mrs. Topper stay there until closing tonight. I'll have something figured out by then."

I managed to clean up the mess and get the bar open before the first group of women sauntered in. The "newest" stripper had become so popular, we were forced to sell tickets to his show. (much to John’s chagrin and Harold’s amusement.) The owner decided he needed to keep his patrons happy and decided this was to be the night John went all the way. John wasn’t happy about it but we needed to keep the Toppers in the club so John agreed.

The music started and the women went wild. They were on their feet screaming "Secret Agent Man! Secret Agent Man!” John walked on stage and slowly took off his car coat and threw it to a woman standing in front of the stage. The women could sense that tonight was going to be different and screamed for him even louder. He never danced, he just stood there and the women loved it and all the while, John pleasantly ignored Harold barking out stripping instructions through the earwig. Since I was plugged into both earwigs, I could hear Harold reading off instructions to John on what to do next and how to do it. I giggled every time Harold told John what piece of clothing was listed on the strippers’ manual as the next to take off. As Harold needed to be in touch with us, John had no option but to keep his earwig tuned into what Harold was telling him.

When Harold got to the part about the pants, I saw John groan. But to his credit, he did as he was told. The pants were a break away type with snaps. He tore them off and away from his tanned muscular frame and I thought we'd have to call the police. Every woman moaned in ecstasy at the sight of his bulging penis in a black G-string. The women rushed the stage and it took every female bouncer in the bar to subdue the crowd. I was even tempted to jump over the bar and lend a hand.

After the crowd was once again under control, John continued. He went down on all fours and started doing pushups. Then he did a one handed push up, his back muscles straining from the pressure and I could have sworn I saw a female in the corner faint.

Sometime after John had begun his routine up on stage and in between barking out strip tease instructions, Harold had contacted me on my earwig and told me that he was parked outside the club and a diversion was needed to get the owners outside and into his waiting car. The owners had been warned ahead of time by a phone call from Carter, that a diversion would be coming and to be ready to bolt out the back door and into a black town car. John was still doing push-ups on one hand, when a flash went off from a woman’s camera. John was none too happy about possibly having his naked body splashed across the internet and quickly pointed to a bouncer to seize the camera. The owners had posted a "No Cameras ALLOWED" sign at the clubs entrance. However, John had become somewhat of a celebrity dancer and the women couldn't seem to help themselves. When he slowly stood up, his muscles bulging and rippling, there was an obvious sheen of sweat on his skin and the women started to rush the stage again. But the very large, female bouncers knew their jobs well and kept everyone at bay and away from all the dancers. I had not noticed a black silk rope hanging over the stage before, but when John stood up, he walked over to it and pulled. All of a sudden, several gallons of water splashed over John’s almost naked body. It seemed as though the drops of water rolled down his body in slow motion. All the women watched mesmerized as the drops rolled down his body past his dark nipples, down his flat stomach and then disappeared into his G-string. The women could no longer be contained. The bouncers lost their foot hold on the crowd and were almost trampled in the stampede of women that rushed towards John. That was the diversion that we needed and John quickly ran back stage, gathered his clothes and the two owners. They bolted out the back door with several women in hot pursuit. Fortunately, Harold was ready and took off before any harm came to either John or Mr. and Mrs. Topper.

With the owners gone, there was no one to take charge except myself. I felt that the owners wouldn't appreciate our saving them if it meant their club was trashed and they ended up penniless. I signaled to one of the other dancers watching from backstage to come out and start dancing, hoping to give the women something else to focus on. While the dancer WAS good looking and definitely knew how to dance, he WASN'T John. The women watched for a minute or two and then started booing. "We want Secret Agent Man! We want Secret Agent Man!" I gave it up as a bad game and signaled the bouncers to start "encouraging" people to leave the club. There were many yells about not getting their money's worth but when all is said and done, when a 6 foot tall woman tells you to leave, you leave.

The bar was cleared in next to no time. I told the bouncers and the strippers that the owners had been called away unexpectedly on business and that the bar would be closed for the next two days. I figured if John and I couldn't solve the problem in that amount of time, we wouldn't be able to solve it at all. I locked up the bar and proceeded to the library to see what Harold and John had in mind next.

The next step had already been planned by the time I got there and the owners had agreed. John and I were to live in the owners’ home over the next two days while the bar was closed. We rushed back to our apartment and packed a few days’ worth of clothing. Upon arriving at the owners’ home, we found a knife had been used to stab a note to the front door. It read, "We'll be back". We carefully placed both in a plastic bag and called a courier service. The service was told to drop it off to a Detective Carter in the 8th precinct. That first night, we took turns keeping watch. On the second night, our diligence was rewarded. We heard a trash can being knocked over and knew someone was outside the owners’ home.

John had been on watch and he quickly woke me by placing a hand over my mouth. I nodded to him and reached under the pillow to where I had left my Smith and Wesson. I cocked the gun and we slowly crept out of the bedroom, one on either side of doorway. Into the kitchen we slipped and John gave me a hand signal as we both heard the door handle being jiggled. He wanted to let all of the gunmen in before taking action. I signaled back that I wanted to keep one alive and John nodded. The men came in slowly, looking around for anyone but couldn't see John and I hiding in the shadows near the kitchen entrance. Three men slipped in before they all began advancing towards the kitchen door and beyond. John counted down 3-2-1 and within seconds, two of the men were down. John advanced quickly on the third and knocked him backwards with a kick to the chest. He dropped like a stone to the floor and lay there gasping. John looked at me and I grabbed the man's gun and held him at gunpoint with both. John got down on one knee next to the man without getting in my line of fire.

He spoke with a deceptive calm when he said, "You can tell your bosses that the Toppers are off limits now. Anyone they send in to kill them from now on will be returned...in pieces." The last part he growled out in a very menacing voice.

The man just nodded and John picked him up and threw him out the door. We waited several minutes before turning on the lights, not wanting to make targets of ourselves if there were still gunmen out there. Finally we switched on the light and set about cleaning up the bodies and the mess.

I called Harold, and told him the problem had been solved and the Toppers were cleared to come home. He said he would call them in the morning and asked that we be at the library tomorrow by 10 am. I agreed and then told him Good night.