Around the World in 80 Babes
Chapter 29: Weight of the Issue
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June 4th, 2005
Westhaven International Hotel
“Let me get this straight,” Marissa Call said as she continued to pack her bag. “You actually agreed to smuggle this man’s daughter out of Columbia for him – all because he knew about your coffee deal?”
“That’s not the real reason,” Richard Stall muttered as he ran his hands through his hair.
“Yeah,” Michael Burke said. “They had guns. How could we say no?”
“Funny, Burke,” Stall muttered. “There are certain… secrets about Pedro Alomar’s coffee exporting business that can’t come to light.”
“What, was he funded by drug lords or something?” Marissa asked, jokingly.
“That’s it,” Stall said. “If Alomar’s business goes bust, I lose out on my shipping deal, and a lot of money. De la Graza is threatening to reveal those secrets if I don’t get his daughter to England – quietly.”
“What on earth for?” Marissa asked.
“Apparently, this girl has run afoul of the son of another drug lord – and, in usual drug lord style, he decided to try and kill her,” Stall said.
“Ain’t love grand?” Burke muttered.
“De la Graza thinks if his daughter is in England, she’ll be safe with some cousins he has there. The problem is that this girl is not used to keeping a low profile – she’d never last six days on a cargo ship slowly sailing across the Atlantic.”
“Why don’t I like where this is going?” Marissa asked.
“Because, we’re going to be flying out with her when we return to England,” Stall said.
“Tell me we don’t have to travel with her until then,” Marissa said.
“No, but we’ll have to travel to Mexico to pick her up when we leave Rio de Janeiro.”
“We’re still getting two weeks in Rio though, right?” Marissa asked.
“Yes, you’ll have plenty of time to wear your skimpy bikinis,” Stall assured her. “We spend two weeks in Rio, then spend two weeks in Mexico as guests at the de la Graza mansion while she celebrates her 19th Birthday, then escort her to England.”
“Guess it’s a good thing we already have one South American babe on tape then,” Burke said. “Mexico’s back in North America, so we can’t count anyone we grab there. Two weeks isn’t a lot of time to score a boatload of famous babes.”
“We’ll make due,” Stall said. “Come on and finish up your packing. I want to be out of this country as fast as possible.”
Marissa sighed as the men moved on. “We never even got our coffee samples,” she complained to the empty room.
* * *
June 5th, 2005
Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean.
“You’re certain of this information, my friend?” the man known only as Blackbird asked. He was in his private jet – a luxury he wasn’t always able to use, but in this one case could, drinking a fine white whine while awaiting his next business transaction.
“I saw him with my own two eyes, Blackbird. While your cronies are still hunting around Miami, Richard Stall is on his way to Rio de Janeiro – heck, he might even be there already,” the man on the other end of the phone said.
“I won’t ask you what you were doing in Columbia when you made this discovery, Ashford” Blackbird said.
“Best you don’t,” Ashford replied. “But now that we’ve gotten that little bit out of the way, you wanted some information from me. I hope you realize it won’t come cheap.”
“It never does, Ashford,” Blackbird replied. “I’ve been looking into one of my clients-”
“That’s never the best of business activities, especially for someone in your line of work,” Ashford said.
“Indeed,” Blackbird. “But in this case, I can’t help myself. I’ve got a hacker pulling information as fast as it can be found, but I thought you might be able to clue me in a little more.”
“Do I want to be involved in this, Blackbird?” Ashford asked.
“I have some evidence that should protect me and my associates should this man decide I know too much,” Blackbird replied. “What do you know about an English business man named William Neal?”
“What is it with you and English business men lately, Blackbird?” Ashford asked. “You’re developing a bit of a fetish.”
“Hardly,” Blackbird replied. “If Neal didn’t pay as well as he does, I’d have nothing to do with him at all.”
“I can’t say I’ve heard anything about him,” Ashford replied. “Do you want me to look into him?”
“At your prices?” Blackbird asked. “Perhaps.”
“Tell you what, have your hacker send me the information you’ve already dug up, and I’ll use that as a basis to start on – consider that your payment for the news on Stall. If I find anything on this Neal person, I’ll contact you and let you know what the price is.”
“Deal,” Blackbird said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to send a pair of assassins to Brazil.”
“Of course,” Ashford said. “I’ll be in touch.”
* * *
June 6th, 2005
The Beaches of Rio de Janeiro,
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
“If I had known we were going to be spending most of our time on this little adventure hanging out on beaches, I would’ve signed up sooner,” Marissa Call said.
“Considering you’re practically naked, I’m not surprised,” Michael Burke replied. “You seem to flourish in the sun.”
“What can I say?” Marissa said. “I love the feeling of a hot sun on my skin.”
“And apparently the more skin, the better,” Richard Stall. “You’re sporting enough camel toe to be considered a road in Egypt.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Marissa shot back. “Besides, you two have seen me having sex how many times? It’s not like I’m afraid to show off my body.”
“Aren’t there nude beaches around here anyway?” Burke asked.
“I think it’s legal to go topless anywhere in Brazil, but I’m not sure,” Stall said.
“Hey, what’s going on over there?” Marissa asked, pointing.
“Looks like a photoshoot,” Stall commented.
“Any idea who they’re shooting?” Marissa asked.
“However she is, she’s hot,” Burke said. Marissa shot him a look, but said nothing.
“Perhaps I’ll go check this out,” Stall said. “I could use a little distraction right about now.”
“We’ll be nearby,” Marissa said. “Come on, Michael, let’s go set up the blanket somewhere where we can watch the action.”
Burke followed Marissa up the beach a short ways, where they found an empty spot on the sand and laid out the blanket.
“Some reason you wanted me away from the Boss?” Burke asked, glancing over Marissa’s nearly naked form.
“It’s not that, horn dog,” Marissa said, seeing where his eyes were lingering. “We’ll have sex later, I promise.”
“You know the way to my heart,” Burke replied, smiling.
“What’s your take on this girl we’re going to smuggle into England?”
“The de la Graza girl? Eh, kinda prissy, dresses like a street whore-”
“Gee, thanks,” Marissa muttered.
“Sorry, nothing personal,” Burke replied. “She’s not much fun, but we only have to ride on the plane with her. Shouldn’t be too difficult. And if it helps the Boss pay the bills, then I’m all for it.”
“Something just doesn’t seem right about it,” Marissa said. “I mean, why can’t this guy just fly her to England himself?”
“Probably afraid someone’s watching him,” Burke said. “Besides, it’s not like we have much of a choice.”
“I know, I know,” Marissa said. “I’d just hate to see us end up smuggling drugs or something.”
“You got something against drug smuggling?” Burke asked.
“You mean aside from the fact that it’s illegal?” Marissa shot back.
“Let’s just say I’ve had some bad experiences,” Marissa muttered.
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“Not really,” Marissa said. “Look, the Boss is chatting up the model. Must be someone famous after all.”
* * *
June 6th, 2005
Rio de Janeiro International Airport
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
“I suppose this will be one place where your usual attire will fit in,” Crow muttered as he and Raven walked through the airport.
“Oh get off it,” Raven said. “You’re just upset that you don’t enjoy looking at all my sexy bikinis.”
“We’re not here so you can score time on the beach. We’ve got less than two weeks to find Richard Stall before he travels to Mexico. He gets away, and we gotta fight past the de la Graza drug cartel to get him.”
“He’s not getting away this time,” Raven said. “I don’t care how many cops he’s got protecting him.”
“Still upset that Scotland Yard chick got the best of you?”
“Only as upset as you are that you got slammed in the balls by that little Call girl – twice.”
“I don’t give to craps about her – I just want that Burke kid nailed to the wall.”
“Yeah, like that’s all you want,” Raven said.
“Funny,” Crow muttered. “Come on, let’s get our rental car and see if Slide’s got a lock on Stall yet.”
* * *
June 6th, 2005
The Beaches of Rio de Janeiro,
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
“I can not do this,” Adriana Lima moaned as Richard Stall kissed her neck. The two were hiding inside the small changing tent the photo company had set up for Adriana to change swimsuits in. Stall had managed to slip the model a dose of Lambert’s chemical, and then merely waited for the young model to finish her shoot – fortunately an event that hadn’t been long off in coming.
“Oh, you can do it,” Stall said as his fingers entered the tiny fabric of her bikini bottoms, instantly finding her dripping wet pussy.
“I have a boyfriend,” Adriana gasped as Stall’s fingers probed her crotch, rubbing against her clit and spreading her lower lips.
“He doesn’t have to know,” Stall whispered into her ear. “It can just be this one time. No one will ever know.” As he spoke, Stall slide a finger into Adriana all the way in to the second knuckle.
Stall could see Adriana’s resolve wilting as he slowly started to finger fuck the model. Using his free hand, he slipped the string on her bikini bottoms, letting the fabric hit the floor. Adriana let loose a tiny gasp, but actually spread her legs slightly in response. Stall could smell her now, and the scent made him bolder. He moved in and kissed her, brushing her up against the small cot in the tent.
Adriana’s nipples were so hard, her tiny bikini top did nothing to hide them. Stall pulled the string on her back, causing the small triangles of fabric to fall away from her breasts. Adriana herself tossed them away and stood naked before Stall now. He kissed her once more and pushed her down onto the cot.
Stall had just removed his bathing suit when Adriana spoke next.
“May I taste you?” she asked, her voice a husky whisper. Smiling, Stall answered by moving over to stand near the head of the bed, leveling his cock right next to the sexy model’s head and lips.
“Please, be my guest,” Stall said.
Tentatively, Adriana reached out and took Stall’s hard on in one hand. She stroked it a few times, as if testing it. Then, almost too quickly, she all but stuffed Stall’s cock into her mouth and started sucking like she was starving.
“Whoa!” Stall said as the model expertly worked her tongue up and down his tool. Stall didn’t know who Adriana’s boyfriend was, but if he was getting blow jobs like this on a regular basis, he was a very lucky man. The more Adriana sucked, the more she got into it. Soon she was deep throating Stall, her fingers playing with his balls. There was no chance of Stall lasting very long at all.
“I’m going to cum,” he said. Adriana mere started sucking impossibly faster.
Seconds later, Stall shot his load down the model’s throat. Adriana greedily swallowed all of it, her hands gripping his ass to prevent him from pulling away.
“Wow,” Stall said when he managed to catch his breath. “That was… amazing.”
“My turn,” Adriana said, pulling him down on top of her. “Fuck me. Now.”
Stall, of course, was happy to oblige. Sliding between her legs, Stall pressed himself to the entrance to Adriana’s slit. He shot her one more look, to be sure than she wanted him, and when she didn’t protest, he slid into her happily.
“Oh, god, yes!” Adriana hissed as she was suddenly filled by Stall’s cock. The tiny model continued to moan and groan as pleasure shot through her frame, pulsating at her crotch every time Stall pressed into him. And Stall was pressing frequently.
He worked up a good, solid pace, making the model cry out in pleasure more and more. And when she had her first climax, Stall didn’t stop. He kept fucking right through it, feeling the young Brazilian go limp underneath him for several minutes. At this point, he didn’t care if she was humping him back or not. Her pussy was wet and tight, the perfect combination for sex, and Stall was enjoying this session quite a bit.
Somehow, it just seemed right to be having sex without worrying about someone trying to kill him.
Adriana was getting back into it now, moaning in Portugese as Stall mercilessly fucked away. She reached up and wrapped her arms around Stall’s back, and pulled him down closer to her, savoring the feel of his naked chest against her breasts. It made Stall’s thrusting a little harder, but he managed to keep pace, and was rewarded minutes later when his blasted his load deep into Adriana. At the same time, she had her own second orgasm, her body shivering and shaking beneath him as she came.
“That was amazing,” Adriana whispered as Stall collapsed on top of her.
“You were amazing,” Stall replied.
“I want to see you again,” Adriana said.
“What about your boyfriend?”
“It’ll be our little secret,” she insisted.
“I don’t know…”
“Have you ever had a threesome?” Adriana asked suddenly, flexing the muscles of her pussy, where Stall’s slowly deflating cock still lay.
“Actually, yes,” Stall said.
Adriana smiled wolfishly at him. “With two Victoria’s Secret models?”
That got Stall’s attention. “No, that I haven’t done.”
Suddenly, Adriana was off him, racing across the small tent to grab her purse. As Stall marveled at her ass, she pulled out a card.
“Meet me at this hotel in eight days, at midnight. I’ll call you later this week to confirm. Show up, bring wine, and plenty of this.” She reached down and yanked on his cock playfully.
“I think I can manage that,” Stall said, smiling as Adriana started getting dressed.
* * *
June 7th, 2005
Westhaven International Hotel
“You know, boss, some days I think you’re just a little too lucky,” Michael Burke muttered as he, Stall, and Marissa sat at the small bar just off the Westhaven’s loby.
“I fail to see how that’s a problem,” Stall replied, sipping his rum and coke.
“Oh, come on!” Burke said. “I mean, you just got done boneing Adriana Lima, and now she wants to hook you up with some other Victoria Secret model for a threesome. That’s just a little too lucky.”
“Says the man who screwed all three members of Destiny’s Child at once,” Marissa said, swatting Burke’s arm.
“Let’s not get violent now,” Stall said.
Burke shot Marissa a look. “Listen, Boss, there’s something we need to talk about…”
“No, there isn’t,” Marissa said sharply.
“Is there something going on I should know about?” Stall asked. “You didn’t max out my credit card purchasing your new wardrobe, did you Marissa?”
“No, I didn’t,” Marissa said, giving Burke a pointed look. “But how about this. When do we have to be to Garcia de la Graza’s hacienda in Mexico?”
“The 21st,” Stall said. “Why? Don’t like the idea of us smuggling a woman back to England with us?”
“Not really,” Marissa said. “Listen, how about the day after your little threesome with Adriana and whoever else she brings, you and I sit down and have a talk. Just the two of us.”
“Shouldn’t I be there, too?” Burke asked.
“No, that’s all right,” Marissa said. “I’d like to talk this over with Richard myself.”
“You sure?” Burke asked.
“Yeah,” Marissa said, giving him a little smile. “I’m sure.”
“All right,” Burke said.
“Why do I get the feeling I’ve completely missed the vast majority of this conversation,” Stall asked.
“I’ll tell you the day after your threesome,” Marissa assured him.
* * *
June 8th, 2005
The Streets of Rio de Janeiro,
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
While a good chunk of Rio de Janeiro is set aside for tourists, a large portion of the large South American city is devoted to slums and lower-caste housing of a type that out many a third-world country to shame. There is no running water, no electricity, and in many cases, no guarantee that your home won’t be busted into by gangs, drug dealers, or worse.
Javier Mosoleto considered himself lucky to have survived to see his seventeenth birthday a mere week ago. His two older brothers hadn’t seen 15 before they were killed, and his sister had been taken from his home before his eyes when she was just 13. He honestly hoped the young woman – who would now be almost 21 – was dead; to live the life the monsters who took her had planed for her was a fate far worse than death.
Not that Javier’s own life was much better. When Javier had turned 15, he had been taken by one of the local pimps and sold to a greasy looking arab man for the night. Javier had known nothing of sex before that – save for the rape of his sister the night she was taken from him. The arab man had raped and molested Javier for six hours straight, “teaching” Javier all about gay sex in one nasty, bloody sweep.
Upon being returned to the pimp the next morning, Javier was told that not only was he now a “fag,” as the pimp described him, but he was a male whore. For the last two years, Javier had lived the rather nasty life of an unwilling, under aged gay prostitute in Rio de Janeiro’s underground sex culture.
Javier was one of the lucky ones, really. He’d never contracted a disease, hadn’t been killed by some of the more aggressive men who’d taken him, and was still allowed to be on the streets, instead of chained to a bed like some of the young girls he’d seen inside some of the brothels. He’d also never had to fuck his Pimp, a fat man who Javier knew only as “Sir.” It seems the pimp’s desires lay with girls under the age of 14. Javier wasn’t his type.
So considering all that, Javier was lucky to be alive, more or less healthy, and not chained to a bed somewhere.
What he didn’t know was that his luck had just completely run out.
Javier had agreed to go with a rather large man, who’d told him he be purchasing both a blow job and a shot at Javier’s ass. Javier agreed – as if he had a choice – and when he arrived at the man’s hotel room, quickly got undressed and prepared to do his job.
And that was when the man hit him.
What followed would go down as one of the most brutal and nasty beating/rapes in Brazilian history. The coroners, who didn’t find Javier until three days later, found him smashed to a pulp, apparently by bare hands alone. His ass had been raped and so violated that it looked more like a puncture wound than a natural part of the body. His arms were broken in nine different places, his skull fractured, and each of his toes had been all but snapped off. All of that had happened before Javier had died.
The killing blow had been when three of his ribs broke and shards had forced their way into his left lung. Javier, in excruciating pain, and lived for maybe another ten minutes as he choked to death on his own blood, which had slowly filled his lung until he’d drown.
The police were never able to even identify who Javier was.
In response, over the next several months, they tried to crack down on Rio de Janeiro’s sex trade to no avail, and after a while, the cops simply forgot all about the beaten boy. Had they known his killer had left the country back in June, they would’ve given up even sooner – in fact, one of the cops who worked Javier’s case had used Javier twice to enjoy his own homosexual fantasies, though he never recognized the boy.
Had the cops known, though, that this killing could easily be linked to at least three others in the past six months alone, they might have worked a bit harder on the case. And had they known the man responsible for Javier’s brutal death was an expert at such things, they might have warned others about him.
But as it was, his killer got away scot free, and did, indeed, kill again.