Chapter 11 — Release Celebration

Sam didn’t have street clothes in her room, so she put on her new compression stockings and the clean sweatsuit they had given her for tomorrow’s physical therapy. She put her notes in a pocket and slipped the hospital band on her wrist up high enough to be hidden by the sweatshirt sleeves.

True to his word, Agent Black showed up exactly at eight o’clock. He was accompanied by a younger man that he introduced as Agent Jones. Black was dressed business casual, with a polo shirt, slacks, and tassel loafers.

Sam evaluated Jones. He was in his early thirties, about 5’11," 200 pounds. His upper body was unusually muscular, and he wore a sleeveless shirt to show off his arms, despite some telltale traces of acne on them. You could detect the faint tracings of a six-pack abdomen, but his stomach was slightly distended as if he was in the very early stages of pregnancy. His prematurely receding brown hair was cut short and brushed to one side. His expression and swagger said he thought he was the baddest dog on the block, but Sam recognized him as an undisciplined steroid-juicing punk.

“What’s the pecking order for our team?” asked Sam, not bothering to shake Jones’ hand.

“You two report directly to me. And I handle all communication up the chain of command," said Black.

“Whoa! Wait a second," whined Jones. “I’ve been with you for two years. I should have seniority over her.”

Agent Black noted Sam’s withering glare. He knew that no matter what he said, those two would end up having to work it out themselves. “Who do you think I am, your Father? You children will have to sort out your sibling rivalries. And just make sure you sort it out quickly and don’t let it interfere with our work.”

No one from the hospital attempted to stop Sam from leaving with the two men. In fact, the few hospital personnel they passed acted as if Sam was supposed to be invisible, suddenly turning away or concentrating on a chart.

When they reached their car, a large black SUV with tinted windows, Agent Jones called out, “I’ve got Shotgun.”

Sam decided that this was as good of a time as any to get the pecking order straightened out. She admitted to herself, it was her dislike of Jones, more than concern about the pecking order, which actually motivated her.

“Sorry," she said, “but riding in the back makes me carsick.”

“Tough titties," said Jones. “I get front.”

Sam ignored him and went to open the front passenger door.

Agent Jones walked up and stood just inches away from Sam. “You better start packing motion meds because I called front, bitch.”

Sam considered casting a glance at Agent Black to see his reaction but decided not to bother. She pushed Jones’ right elbow against his body with her left hand and grabbed his right wrist with her right hand. She quickly twisted the wrist outward, took a step behind Jones, and drove him to his knees with a wrist lock.

“You will apologize to me for your rude behavior and ask politely to sit in the back or I will snap your wrist without a second thought, bitch. There is a hospital right over there and you’ll get treatment sooner than I’d like, so maybe I better break it in two places.”

Jones considered cussing her out, but then remembered Ohio. This cold-ass bitch was not likely to give him a second chance to apologize. He would have to get back at her some later time. They’d see how tough she was when she woke up with a garden snake in bed with her.

“Okay, okay. It’s cool. I apologize. I’m, like, sorry I behaved rudely, you know. I would be very happy to sit in the back," he whimpered.

“Just remember," she said as she slowly let Jones up, “I have certain skills and talents that you’ll desperately need in the future, so get all thoughts of revenge out of your mind. If you ever did anything to try to even the score with me, you would not survive the next assignment.”

“Really, it’s okay, Sam. We’re part of the same team," gushed Jones, who was thinking he had never before met such a pushy man-hating cunt. He wondered if she had a collection of severed balls hidden somewhere and was just aching to add his to it.

“I am very sorry for how I acted. Like, I was just fooling around, okay? A bad joke," he continued. “Come on, let’s go out and celebrate your joining the team. I’ve got a special treat for you. I made all of the arrangements myself.”

After ten minutes of non-stop misogynistic banter between Jones and Black, which Sam ignored, they pulled into the parking lot of a strip club. “So, this is my treat?” Sam asked as neutrally as she could.

“Yeah. This place is great, believe me," said Jones. “I saw in your file that you were a lez, which is fine by me. Actually, it’s a relief. Now I don’t have to worry about all of that politically correct bullshit that comes with a woman on the team because I know we all like pussy!”

When Sam still didn’t look happy Jones decided to keep shoving his foot into his mouth. “Believe me, you’ll like it here. If you pay enough money to get into the VIP section then pretty much anything goes, even some of that fetish shit you’re into.”

Black joined in on the sales pitch. “Don’t worry, Sam, you’ll get plenty of attention. And these girls go both ways.”

Jones then launched into a series of wolf calls, and Black joined in.

Jones had indeed made VIP reservations here. A tall thin blonde wearing a barely existent red string bikini led them past a stage with three nude dancers to a table in the secluded VIP section. Black made sure the blonde didn’t get too far ahead of them by looping a finger through her G-string. “Don’t forget," she purred when they arrived at their table, “our VIPs each get a free lap dance and a 25% discount on the back room.”

A short pneumatic brunette named Slave came over to take their drink orders. She had heavy eye makeup, bright red lips, and was attired in black Latex fetish gear. Looking around, Sam saw scantily clad nurses, schoolteachers, schoolgirls, and policewomen, among others. It may have been an all-nude club, but the girls wore costumes while working the floor to advertise their back-room specialties.

Jones delayed the drink order by dragging the brunette into his lap and motor-boating her breasts. Under normal circumstances, doing something like that out in the open would cause a bouncer to come over. Evidently, the VIP section was secluded enough, or the reservation fee was high enough, that such minor transgressions were overlooked. Or maybe Tennessee was just less strict than other states that Sam was familiar with.

Sam leaned over to Black and shouted above the noise, “This will be great. The chicks are hot, and I haven’t had a lap dance in years. Listen, I’ll be right back. Order me a bourbon and coke while I go pee.” Black waved his hand at her but was busy staring at the girls on the stage.

Sam headed off towards the lady’s room. Once she rounded the corner to the back hall, she pulled down her hospital wrist band, so it was visible, and stopped one of the dancers walking by.

“You’ve got to help me," she said, sounding desperate. “Those guys I came in with are dirty cops. They’re over in the VIP section. They beat me up so bad last month they put me in the hospital with a lacerated liver. Tonight, they kidnapped me from the hospital," she held up her arm and pointed to the hospital wrist band, “because they have some sort of job they need me to do. You’ve got to show me the back way out of here or I’m totally fucked. I know I’ll be dead by morning.”

The dancer gave Sam a very serious look, checked to see who else was in the hall, and then said, “Don’t worry, Hun. Straight down this hall and take the only door on the left. It’s a fire exit, but the damn alarm hasn’t worked in years. And don’t worry about those two guys you were with. I’ll have a couple of girls go over and keep them entertained. They won’t miss you for at least an hour.”

“Oh, thank you. I don’t know how to thank you enough," said Sam. “If I had some money, I’d give it to you.”

The dancer hugged Sam, then handed her all of the tips she had collected so far tonight. “Here, Hun. Take this. You’ll need money to get away from those jerks. Don’t worry, I can make this up in no-time. I just wish you had come in later, so I’d have more to give you.”

With a final hug, Sam headed down to the fire exit. She was ditching Black a couple of days sooner than she had planned, but if she had to spend one more hour with those two assholes, she would either explode or kill them both.