her to the door, waits a couple of minutes, then goes into the club and takes a seat over at a comer table to observe… then follows her if she goes out with someone.'
'And she recognizes this man? She would miss him and know something is wrong if he isn't seated in that table?' Marie asked, becoming more absorbed in their plans.
'Yes… and she will always look back to see that he is following in his car when she leaves with someone,' Don went on. 'Oh, he doesn't prevent her from doing anything, but he finds out who the people are and waits around the hotel or residence they retire to for their sex orgies. When she comes out, she expects to see his car parked nearby.'
'But… if we are successful in seducing her… making her want to go back to ‘Texas' with us,' Marie rationalized, 'then she would want her man out of the way as much as we would.'
'Not ‘out of the way' exactly,' Don corrected. 'But she would be willing to take a chance to sneak by him, out of a back entrance or something. That's why we have to figure out an efficient way to eliminate him from the scene and replace him with one of our men as early as possible. She can't recognize his face from across the Club Royale or in a car that's some distance away. All we need have is a hefty man, who wears baggy suits. And I know just the man. He's one of our French agents who has been casing this job with me.'
'And… how does he… 'eliminate' Louisa's real bodyguard?' Marie inquired.
'He doesn't… you do.'
'Me! Why me?' the girl inquired, almost as if to protest, then adding, 'How can I do that if I'm supposed to be in the Club Royale with you… as your wife?'
'And so you will be,' Don explained further, snuffing out his cigarette and speaking very determinedly. 'All of this depends on precise timing. You and I will be in the club before Louisa arrives. We will have a very conspicuous table in the area she seems to prefer. But… as soon as we see her enter, you will get up and head toward the Ladies' room. You may have to squeeze by her through the tables and catch her eye right then, make yourself noticeable to her.
'But you will only stay in the Ladies' room for a moment, then come back out and leave the club by the front door, mumbling something in French about having left your lipstick in our rented car. All of this, you must accomplish in less than two minutes.
'Once outside the club, you will walk to the side street where our car will be parked, and also where the bodyguard parks his car. It's a large, black Mercedes, you can't miss it. Hopefully, he will still be sitting in the car, just about to get out and come in the club. You will go up to him at the drivers' side and ask him for a light for your cigarette… in French.
'As he holds his lighter up to your cigarette with his right hand, you will jab him with this hypodermic at his inner wrist, trying to hit a. vein, if possible… '
'What if I don't hit a vein?'
'It might take him as long as two seconds to pass out… instead of immediately,' Don replied, holding up the syringe and a small, rubber-tipped vial of fluid. 'And then you will return to the Ladies' room, break the syringe and Hush it down the toilet, put on new lipstick, and rejoin me at our table with a charming smile.'
'What happens to the bodyguard?' Marie asked, not quite understanding it all.
'Everything will be planned with precision!' Don assured her, acting a little irritably. 'The street there is rather desolate and poorly lighted. Even to a passerby it would only appear that he slumped back in his seat after giving a light to a streetwalker… '
'A streetwalker! Me! A… whore?'
'Yes! You! A whore!' Don lashed out at her impatiently. 'Come off it now, Marie! You're an Intelligence agent, not a prim little schoolmarm from the Midwest! What else would someone think if they saw a pretty girl walk up to a man parked in a ten-thousand dollar car and ask for a light?'
'It's a perfectly natural street scene for Paris. That's why you're doing it instead of a male agent. Another reason you're doing it is because we don't want to involve a single agent more than is necessary. You are the logical one for that very important phase of this mission.
'As for the man… he will be removed from the car as soon as the coast is completely clear. Two of our French agents will drive up beside his car and put his body in the back seat of their vehicle. One of the men will be the bodyguard's double. He will take the man's car keys and identification. The other man will drive off with the body.'
'The body?' Marie asked, her eyes showing a little concern. 'You mean that… I will have killed him?'
'The man must never be heard from again!' Don exploded, gesturing irritably with his hands. 'They must never know at what point Louisa ceased being observed by him. And don't give me any crap about killing! You've killed before! You'll kill again! In some cases, it's the only way to do the job right.
'Do you have some reservations? Tell me, Marie! Do you have some reservations?'
'Absolutely none!' she said positively, firmly, and looked him right in the eye forcefully.
As usual, Don Cabot's carefully thought-out plans worked perfectly, and he stood up like a gentleman to help his 'wife' be seated again, when she returned to their table at the Club Royale at 9:15 that night. To Marie's great surprise, Don was not alone I In the few minutes that she had been gone (no more than ten) to accomplish her job, Don had been hard at work too.
'Darling,' he said, before pushing the chair in for Marie to sit down. 'I want you to meet a most charming young lady. Louisa Lanay… my wife, Marie.'
'Yes… it gives me great pleasure to know very sweet young American couples,' Louisa responded, shaking hands vigorously with Marie after she stood up. 'I am very sorry that I did accidentally bump into you so hard when we passed between the tables a few minutes ago. I took liberty to come and apologize to your husband… and we began to talk, so I am afraid I have stayed here too long. I will return to my table now… alone… '
'Oh, please join us,' Marie insisted. 'I'm not at all jealous, and I'm not upset about the struggle we had getting between those two chairs when I was on the way to the powder room. We're having a wonderful time in Paris, but we do want to meet some people. We'd be delighted for you to join us.'
'Please do,' Don added, standing behind her chair.
'It's terrible of me to intrude this way,' Louisa said with a sigh and a Gallic gesture of resignation, as she sat down again. 'But I do have a special delight for Americans. So many of you… when you visit with Paris, you know, you are more free. You release inhibitions and have a good time… real good time.'
'But you aren't French either, are you?' Marie asked, studying the stunning woman's face and figure as much as she could. 'Your accent is more… ”
'Czech… yes,' Louisa broke in with a big smile, and then seemed to reminisce aloud. 'If it were not for the Communists, I would be a Countess. Many of my friends here refer to me as 'Countess.' Oh, but I am not trying to sound snobbish, no… '
As Louisa continued to talk, both Don and Marie noticed a heavy-set man in an ill-fitted but expensive suit, seating himself at a corner table well across the room. They noticed too that Louisa looked his way briefly, then frowned for a second, before returning to tell them her life story. It was true that she had been a member of Royalty in Eastern Europe, or would be, if the Soviets had not taken over. What she did not tell them was that her father and mother had both defected to the Communists and convinced her to go along with them. What better cover for a good Communist agent in France than the guise of exiled East European royalty.
Both Don and Marie had noticed the sexual appeal of Louisa, particularly when she had stood up. The mold of her voluptuous body was classic, with the large breasts displayed magnificently if only in part by the extreme cleavage allowed by her dress' neckline, which seemed to go all the way to her navel.
Louisa's black hair pulled back into a tight bun made her eyes and facial features stand out-the classic nose, the full, moist lips, the deep brown eyes that seemed to talk. Her soft and creamy upper arms and shoulders had an appeal of their own as exposed by the sleeveless and almost formal dress. Her armpits were unshaved in the typical European tradition, but instead of appearing ugly to Don and Marie, there was a bizarre erotic symbolism about the long, black hairs that sprouted forth. When Don looked at them sticking out from her armpit even when her arms were at her side, the cunt-surrogate picture was clear, and he remembered the Italian agent in Rome with the long underarm hairs. She wanted him to fuck her there, and he did with some pleasure. Too bad, he recalled, that she had been an enemy agent too, and his assignment at that time was not to seduce her and spirit her away, but to 'eliminate' her, in just the way that Marie had so recently eliminated Louisa's bodyguard.
“What would you like to drink… 'Countess'?' Don asked with a smile, boldly putting his hand over hers on the
