Lazar's Intrigue (The Jack Lazar Series) (9 page)

Lifting
her from the ground, Jack sat her on the front fender as she cooperatively raised
her arms and allowed him to strip away the tweed blazer. She leaned back and
curved her spine as he locked on to one of her breasts, circled her nipple a
few times with his tongue, gave it a playful flick or two and proceeded eagerly
to the other for an encore. She squirmed as he proceeded to her stomach,
tickling it with moist kisses, and he pulled down the side of her skirt to brush
his lips and tongue along her hip as he drifted ever so teasingly toward her
pelvis.

“Bastard.”

“What?
Why?”

“Stop
teasing me, you foreplay whore, and get on with it.” Sarina flung her head
forward, tossing her sable hair in disarray as she pawed at Jack’s shirt and
disarmed all of the buttons she could reach. She slipped her hands through the loosened
shirt at his shoulders and scored her nails up his spine as she cooed with
satisfaction of her revenge, the unexpected sting causing Jack to stiffen—probably
just the reaction she was looking for.

“What
the hell, woman?”

“Is
there a problem, darling?” To say she was dripping with sarcasm would be an
understatement.

“I’ve
never met such an impatient girl when it comes to sex. And it’s going to cost
you.”

“Oh
yeah? What do you have in mind? Anal sex? A spanking, maybe?”

“Nope.
I’m thinking even more foreplay.”

“Christ,
no.”

“Uh-huh.
And it’s your turn.”

He
pulled back and stood in front of her as he reached for the remaining buttons
on his shirt, releasing them quickly and discarding the garment to the side.

Sarina’s
eyes brightened as she looked over Jack’s chest and stomach, and she softened
her breath as she watched him remove his pants and boxer-briefs in a single
thrust, displaying the entirety of his tawny, bare body. He was rock hard and
ready for action.

“Go
for it,” he ordered, feeling quite proud of himself for keeping up with her
brashness.

“I’m
happy to, baby. But oral sex isn’t foreplay. It’s sex.”

“Semantics.”

“I
don’t think so. Otherwise they’d call it oral foreplay.”

“Jesus.
Will you get on with it, please?”

“My,
my,” she said, chuckling. “Such a demanding thing, aren’t you?”

Sarina
slid down the fender and knelt in front of him before leaning the side of her
head against his stomach with her eyes closed. She ran her hands up his back to
the scrapes she had made along his spine and proceeded to his chest, down his
sides, and settled on his buttocks before digging her nails into him there. She
drew around a hand and gently stroked him from base to peak before thrusting
him into her mouth, persisting to savor him as she worked him far down her
throat.

Jack
had never been swallowed so deeply before, and he could feel the contractions
of her throat clutching him. It was crazy stimulating, and under other
circumstances he might happily let her finish the job, but nothing was more
important right now than getting in between her legs. In fact, he was beginning
to understand her impatience with the whole foreplay thing. Assuming this was foreplay,
of course.

“Okay,
that’s enough,” he said as he lifted her from the ground, tumbled her over the
fender onto the hood, and peeled away her skirt.

“Talk
about impatient,” she said, smiling triumphantly. “I was looking forward to the
payoff, but…”

“Oh,
you’ll get plenty of payoff. Just not that.”

“Well,
you’ve tasted my cum. Seems only fair that I get to taste yours.”

Who
the hell talks like that?

“Maybe
some other time. I have a pressing engagement with your pussy.”

“Yes,
you do.”

Jack
watched with avid anticipation as she slid the tiny white panties down those
slender legs and spread herself for him, revealing the clean-shaven pink utopia
he had been dreaming about since the last time he played with it. She licked a
couple of fingers and buried them tight inside as her eyes locked on his, her
thumb circling and pressing while her hips undulated in pleasurable waves.

“Your
turn,” she whispered.

“Hell
yeah.”

Jack
dropped to the ground and took over with his tongue, licking her with full,
rhythmic strokes until a quick and fiery climax racked through her. She bucked
and thrashed on the hood while she found complete release, his tongue never
losing contact as he kept his unyielding hold on her hips.

“Wow,”
she said, panting. “Nice job. And fast. Gold star for Jack.”

“It
was my pleasure. Seriously.” When he told her it was one of his favorite things
to do, he wasn’t kidding.

Jack
assumed she needed a moment to recover before he really gave her something to shatter
her strength. But her eyes pleaded a different message as he towered over her
again, and it was clear her eagerness was every bit equal to his.

“Don’t
just stand there, Jack. Fuck me! Now!”

Appeasing
her without excuse, he embraced a leg in each arm and split her wide before
bringing her toward him. She felt hot and soaking wet as he slid inside, his
rhythm slow and deliberate at first while he relished in the experience of her.
But in no time he surrendered to the moment, engrossed by his desperation for
release, and he began driving into her with hard and furious thrusts while he guided
her with his arms.

Sarina
reached over with her left hand and grabbed the upper edge of the hood to brace
herself as Jack carelessly pulled her lower half off the car.

“Fuck
yeah. That’s the way I like it, baby,” she said. “Go for it!”

 No
matter how hard he pounded her, her eyes told him she wanted even more, and he
grinded his teeth as he summoned every ounce of strength within him, driving
harder and harder as beads of sweat dripped down his chest and torso. Damnit if
he wasn’t going to give her the ride of her life.

He
watched as Sarina’s breasts shook back and forth, echoing his thrusts, and he
yearned to take one of them into his mouth, but that just wasn’t possible like
this. They would just have to tantalize him there. Torture him. And now, dear
God, the woman reached down with her right hand and began circling her clit
with her fingers. How could he possibly last long enough with a vision like
that in front of him?

Too
fucking hot. Must resist the urge…

Hold
on. Those fingers were apparently just what she needed to push her over the
edge, and she was speeding toward orgasm now. Short breathing. Desperate
whines. Stiffening, bucking core. And that desperate look in her eyes like she
wanted him to stop and go at the same time. Just like when he was doing her up
against that wall. And the sight and sounds of all of it threw him right on
course, the one he had resisted before, and he could feel it building, rising,
taking him over.

Fuck!

Jack’s
muscles began to tremble as the well of intensity compelled him to persevere, and
the reward soon arrived as Sarina constricted around him, propelling his own climax
like flipping a switch, and a serendipitous spray of humid air wisped between
their bodies as their guttural screams echoed between the deserted warehouse
buildings.

They
worked it, savored it, extended it together. And just as Jack lowered her back
to the fender, thinking they were powering down, Sarina slipped her fingers
around him, gathering essence as he remained inside her. She rose up and brought
it to Jack’s mouth, kissing him through her fingers as they tasted their
combined juices. The stunt was so fucking hot that it shot one more lightning
bolt to his groin, and Sarina worked him through it with her hips, circling
gently as she tensed around him, pulling and drawing. He was in absolute heaven
and could stay in there forever.

Released
of the pain he felt just minutes ago, Jack realized Sarina had been right. As
awful as it may have seemed to fulfill their selfish desires only minutes after
experiencing such brutal violence, he felt elated by it, if not strengthened. He
wondered how he had taken so much pride in the past of his own sexual prowess
now that a new plateau had been revealed to him.

He
tightened his embrace around the woman with sable hair and smiled, sensing this
was only the beginning. And he liked it.

NINE

“You
know, Jack,” Sarina offered soberly, “you can’t go home until all of this is
over. Antonucci’s people will kill you if they get the chance. I’d be surprised
if someone wasn’t watching your house right now.”

It
was ten o’clock in the morning, and they had just awakened to the morning sun,
which reflected off the boats in the marina and beamed through the sheer drapes
of their suite at the Ritz Carlton, Marina Del Rey. Eager to continue where
they left off in the warehouse district, they headed directly for the hotel last
night after a quick stop at Nordstrom to buy Sarina some new clothes and
cosmetics.

Jack
was snuggled behind Sarina in bed, his arms wrapped around her like a secure
cocoon while she held his hands close to her chest. He opened his eyes as she
spoke, hesitating before he acknowledged her words.

“I
guess you’re right,” he answered softly. “What do you suggest I do?”

Sarina
sighed and kissed his fingertips. “I don’t know, Jack. Isn’t there somewhere
else you can go for a while? Some place you can wait for me? Your parents’
house in New York perhaps?”

“Wait
for you?” He was sarcastic but calm. “What am I, a lap dog?”

“Well,
you do like using your tongue a lot, so I’m thinking along the lines of a
German shepherd. Just not quite as sloppy.”

“I’m
going to take that as a compliment if you don’t mind.”

“You
should.”

“Seriously,
though. You don’t really think I’m going to just sit around and bide my time
while you go after Antonucci by yourself, do you?” Jack felt even more
compelled to join Sarina’s campaign after learning that Antonucci’s empire was
partially responsible for the end of his investment banking career. And after
the events of last night, he was ready for anything, afraid of nothing, and
sworn to vengeance for the first time in his life.

Scooting
her pillow against the headboard, Sarina twisted her body out of his hold and
sat up in bed. She pulled the top sheet over her bare chest and folded her arms
in a way that revealed her frustration.

Jack
remained at her lap and gazed upward as he played the German shepherd, waiting
to be pet by his master, yet unsure that he might be in trouble for something.

Sarina
sighed again. “Jack, darling. I wish there were some way I could bring you into
this, but I can’t. Believe me, I can see and feel the fire inside you. I
understand it because it’s the same thing that keeps me going every day. But
you have no formal training for this kind of work, not to mention the fact that
you are a civilian. It would be dangerous and illegal for me to involve you.”

She
took his hand and continued. “I didn’t believe in the beginning that you had
the right stuff to make it in my world, but I was wrong. You’ve proven that to
me. But I just can’t do this for you. I hope you understand. Under different
circumstances I think we’d make a great team.”

Jack
pondered over her words for a moment and concluded that any efforts to change
her mind would be futile. But if he didn’t work with her on the investigation,
what would he do with his time now that he was unable to go home? Should he jet
off to Mexico and drink margaritas in Cabo for weeks on end, totally oblivious and
uninvolved in a situation that had such a dramatic impact on his future?

Absolutely
not.

At
the very least he needed to establish a conduit through which he could keep
abreast of the DEA’s progress while he conducted an investigation of his own
like he originally planned. But this was no longer a situation where he would
be digging for information solely on Gerald Hesterling. The new, expanded
investigation involved an entire drug empire with people who had no qualms
about killing him. In fact, they probably had plans to do exactly that as soon
as possible.

Regardless
of the risks, there were no other acceptable options, and his time from here on
would be much better spent trying to extract information from Sarina and learn
as much as he could. There was so much he didn’t know, and he needed a good
foundation from which to begin.

“Why
can’t you go after Antonucci’s people right now?” he asked. “After what
happened last night, you must have plenty to use against them.”

Sarina
shook her head decisively. “Not really. The objective here is to gather hard
evidence about his drug empire, and on that score we have nothing. I barely had
a chance last night to search through the warehouse before they caught me, so I
have no concrete evidence that drugs are being distributed through there. I
also haven’t been able to nail down any definitive leads to his network. It’s
like Antonucci is always one step ahead of me.”

“So
they’re just going to get away with what they did to us last night?”

“This
may sound crazy, Jack, but yes. It’s not my job to pursue assault and battery
cases. My focus has to stay on the drugs. Besides, with Antonucci’s resource of
attorneys, not to mention the friends he has in the judicial system, we’d be
lucky not to be sued for false arrest. And how would we explain what
you
were doing there?”

“Okay,
I get all that. But what about obtaining a search warrant for the warehouse so
you can look more thoroughly?”

“Sure.
I could arrange for a search warrant. But you can bet that they’ve removed any
incriminating evidence by now. We would also run the risk of putting his drug
empire even further out of our reach because the more we shake things up and
reveal to him that we know what’s going on, the more he’ll be motivated to
change things, and that makes it even harder for us to figure everything out.”

A
look of futility came over her face. “We’ve spent almost two years trying to
build a case against his organization that wouldn’t have any holes in it. But
every time we get close, something happens to set us back. I wouldn’t be
surprised if the altercation last night has motivated him to reorganize his
network, which will no doubt send us back to square one again. The man has the
money and the manpower to move quickly.”

“Doesn’t
he have some kind of South American base?” Jack was trying to think along with
her.

“Sure
he does. But things have been shaken up so much in Colombia over the last few
years that it’s harder to keep track of things down there than it is up here.”

Jack
began to wonder if Sarina was making excuses or if things were really as dismal
as she described. Could she still have some allegiance or feelings left for
Antonucci? Was she looking for ways to prevent the man from being arrested? Was
all of this a ruse?

“Well,”
he posed, “isn’t there anything about his operation you know for sure? I mean,
if you’ve been on his case for a couple of years, surely you’ve figured out a
few things, made a couple of arrests here and there. What’s happened during all
that time?”

“It’s
a long story.”

“I’ve
got all morning,” Jack said, his eyes imploring her to trust him.

She
sighed. “Well, it actually started before my time, back in the nineties, when the
DEA caught up with Antonucci’s predecessor in Miami. I don’t know what his real
name was, but everybody just refers back to him as ‘El Toro’. They arrested him
twice, and both times he was released without even being arraigned. The first
time his hotshot lawyer worked out a quick deal with the judge, which isn’t
uncommon for a first arrest, but the second time was pretty interesting.”

“How
so?”

“They
just dropped the charges out of the blue and released him. The regional head of
the DEA received a call from someone high up in the Federal government, and
whoever it was ordered the DEA to release El Toro immediately and cease any
action against him.”

“Why
would they do that?” Jack asked.

“Well,
word eventually leaked out that El Toro’s pilots were flying money and weapons
to the Contra rebels in Nicaragua for the CIA at the time, so the American
government gave him a free pass and looked the other way while his planes
returned to the States with marijuana and cocaine. Our people called it the ‘drugs
for guns’ policy. Supposedly the conspiracy went all the way to the State
Department, possibly even the White House. Anyway, before long the situation
leaked out to the press where it got all twisted and confused, and the whole
thing turned into a three-ring circus. Remember the Iran/Contra Senate hearings
back then? Once they were all said and done, the drug runners got an easy walk,
Oliver North became a celebrity, and the truth was just swept under the
carpet.”

“So
they released this El Toro guy? Just like that?”

She
nodded. “Just like that.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Well,
believe it,” Sarina continued. “And shit like that still happens today, I assure
you. Sometimes I can just sense that someone is pulling the strings when I hit a
brick wall and can’t make any progress on a case. I mean, it would be really
nice if I could just go out and do the job I was hired to do, but it just doesn’t
happen very often.”

“Why
is that?” Jack asked. “Is it because the drug cartels still have such a strong
influence over our government, or what?”

“That’s
a part of it. God knows what kind of control they have as a result of the money
they’re able to throw around. But there are other problems, too. For example,
we are constantly struggling with appropriations budgets that are totally inadequate
for our needs, and the lack of funds ultimately causes us to pull back on
operations. Then there are foreign policy issues to deal with, and of course
one out of every ten cops out there is on the take.”

“One
out of ten? How can that be?”

“It’s
all about money, babe.”

Jack
was astounded. “Money?”

“Of
course,” Sarina insisted. “What else would you expect? It overshadows
everything I do. Look at the financial impact the drug business has on
economies like South Florida and what would happen if we took down all the
dealers. It would be disastrous. I think it’s amazing that we ever convict
anyone.”

“That’s
awful, Sarina! Why do you stick with it?”

“Well,
despite all of that, there are still some brief moments of glory. Every once in
a while someone big falls out of favor, and we get to shut him down. It’s like
pulling teeth, but we eventually get there. And when it happens, boy does it
feel good!”

“So
what happened to this El Toro guy?” Jack asked, trying to figure out where the
story was going.

“My
predecessors ultimately gave up on the drug angle of their investigation on El
Toro because they couldn’t get anywhere, so instead they worked with the
Miami/Dade Police to build a case around several executions he had carried out
in public. In no time they gathered witnesses, depositions, photographs, and
everything else they needed to put him away for good. But he disappeared before
they had a chance to arrest him. Then, one sunny afternoon, the DEA got a call
from Miami/Dade saying they had received an anonymous tip claiming that El Toro
could be found in the back of a van on a deserted street at the south end of
the county. So they broke out the SWAT team and brought in a Central Tactical
Unit of DEA agents and Miami blues—what we call a Centac—and surrounded the
area.

“When
it looked safe, they moved in. And to their surprise, they didn’t run into a
lick of trouble. They opened the doors, and low and behold, there he was. El
Toro. Sitting in the back of this van. All by himself. Just like they said. His
hands and feet all tied up. The guys couldn’t believe it.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.
But before the vice squad could finish untying El Toro and take him in for
processing, the van exploded, taking El Toro, half the city block, four DEA
agents and six vice cops with it. My boss, Bob, was a rookie agent with the DEA
at the time and had just driven away from the scene with his partner when it
happened. He said there was so much C-4 in that bomb that it felt like an earthquake.”

“Shit.
Did he get hurt?”

“Not
seriously, but the blast blew their car over onto its roof.”

“Damn.
I guess that was a nice welcome to the DEA for Bob, huh?”

“No
kidding. Anyway, the guy who planted it was obviously trying to kill a whole
flock of birds with one stone.” She counted on her fingers. “He not only wanted
to kill El Toro, but every single law enforcement agent who was after him. He
had to know, with such a high-profile criminal, that everyone would be there. And
if he managed to get all of them out of the way with a single blow, it would
take forever for the next team to piece everything together and figure out who
took over El Toro’s operation. But fortunately the bomb was set on some kind of
trigger that miscalculated everyone’s position. Either that or it just didn’t
have enough ordinance.”

“And
you guys think Antonucci did it?”

“Bingo.”

Jack
nodded in understanding. “So Antonucci took over El Toro’s operation back in
the nineties? He must have been a kid back then.”

“A
very ambitious and ruthless kid, yes. And after El Toro was out of the picture,
all of his old networks not only kept operating, but they began handling more
merchandise than ever before. The house and estate El Toro built just outside
Medellin, Columbia turned into something just short of a fortress, with traffic
coming and going all the time. Then, a couple of years ago, about the time I
got involved—nothing. Aside from the armed guards who still patrol outside the
place, we haven’t seen anyone.”