Around The World In 80 Babes – Chapter 9: Friends And Enemies

Around the World in 80 Babes

by: TRL

Chapter 9: Friends and Enemies

February 20th, 2005

Parking Garage of The Cologne Hilton,

Cologne, Germany

Richard Stall had seen his life flash before his eyes exactly three times in his life. The first time was when, as a young boy, he’d hit a tree skiing. He’d broken six ribs and both his legs, and spent nearly four months in a partial body cast. The second time was when, as a young teenager, he’d taken his father’s Jaguar out for a spin and quickly wrapped it around a parked taxi cab. He got out of that one with just a broken arm. The third time came
when he’d been on a plane flight to Australia, flying over the Pacific, and the power had gone out. The plane lost a lot of altitude, but power returned well before they would’ve hit the water. In all three cases, when Stall had been certain he was going to die, his life had flashed before his eyes.

Now, as he ran out of a hotel dragging a half-naked Heidi Klum behind him while he was getting shot at, he found himself somewhat surprised that his life WASN’T flashing before his eyes. Indeed, if anything, his mind was clear, and the future was all he was thinking about.

The first shot missed his head by a half-inch, gouging plaster out of the wall behind him. Without thinking, he’d shoved Heidi down behind the nearest car, a yellow Volkswagen Beetle that looked like it’d been built in the ’80s. The second and third round clanged off the rear of the Bug, never making it past the engine that was still back there.

Fortune, it seemed, still favored Richard Stall.

“Oh my god,” Heidi gasped as they hunkered down. If the shooter was that determined, he’d be around the side of the car any second now. Then there would be nothing Stall could do except hope that his end would be short.

“I don’t want to die,” Heidi moaned.

“Neither do I,” Stall said, looking around for ANYTHING that might have worked as a weapon. Only in a fancy hotel would the parking garage be free of even so much as a scrap of garbage. Things were not looking good.

Stall decided to risk a look up over the edge of the car, and was greeted by another bullet, this time sheering off the driver’s side rear-view mirror. Heidi screamed again.

Knowing there was little left he could do, Stall decided he’d at least make sure Heidi was safe.

“When I tell you, run back towards the elevator,” he whispered to her, holding her hand to try and keep her calm.

“What are you going to do?” Heidi asked.

“Distract the shooter,” he said, getting up on the balls of his feet. Heidi got to her knees, keeping her head down.

“Wait, Richard-”

“No time,” he hissed. “Count to five, then run.” Stall stood up a little more, half expecting to have bullet slam into his skull-

-when the screech of tires filled the garage. From outside, Stall’s limo came racing in and practically slammed into the VW Bug as it came to a halt between them and the shooter.

The door to the limo swung open, and Marissa Call waved at them. “Hurry up!” She screamed. Another shot rang out, the round connecting with the bullet-proof glass on the far side of the limo. The passenger-side window spider-webed, but held out.

Stall and Heidi were inside the limo before another shot could be fired.

“Get us out of here!” Stall cried out as he hit the floor of the limo, Heidi landing on top of him.

“We’re gone!” Michael Burke, Stall’s driver, responded. The limo tore out of the garage in reverse, narrowly missing another car before switching into forward gear and racing off down the streets of Cologne.

“That was too close,” Stall muttered, looking up at the damaged window just above his head.

* * *

The assassin known only as Raven curse her luck as she hopped into the SUV driven by her partner, Crow. The two had both missed shots on Richard Stall now, and their employer, a man known only as Blackbird, wasn’t going to be happy.

“What the fuck happened?” Crow demanded as they pulled out of the garage.

“I missed,” Raven snarled.

“You drank too much again, didn’t you?” Crow muttered.

“Shut the fuck up, fag, and drive! I heard sirens before you got here.”

“We’re going to have to leave the country. We’re going to lose Stall after this.”

“Fuck it, we’ll find him again,” Raven said, practically spitting the words at him in her anger.

“Blackbird won’t be happy.”

“Fuck him. We’ll get Stall later. We just have to get him before the end of the year, right?”

“Yeah, but the sooner we do it, the sooner we can move on to something else.”

“We’ll get him once we find him again,” Raven said. “I’m sure of it.”

Crow didn’t respond as he drove out of the city.

* * *

February 21st, 2005

The Cologne Hilton,

Cologne, Germany

Agnes Stone looked at the broken window in the photos before her, and compared them with the still shattered window in Richard Stall’s limo.

“You’re certain you were the target, Mr. Stall?” the Scotland Yard detective asked as she walked back around the other end of the limo.

“No one knew Heidi would be there,” Stall said, shaking his head. “I hate to say it, Detective, but I must have been the target.”

Stone looked at him for a long second. “For the record, I agree with you,” she replied at last. “But, the Germans aren’t so certain. They’re going to run a full investigation along the lines that this was an attempt on Miss Klum’s life. You’ve been relegated to unfortunate bystander.”

“Fantastic,” Stall muttered. “I suppose I need to stay in the country now, in case they need me.”

“Nope,” Stone replied. “The Germans are remarkably uninterested in you at the moment. Blame the fact that George Bush is due in country any day now. They’ve got bigger fish to fry. They’ve got your statement, and they want nothing to do with you.”

“Well, that’s something, I guess.”

“So, I assume you’re going to want to head back to London now,” Stone said.

“Actually, I’ve got business in Czech Republic,” Stall muttered. “After that, I’m not sure where I’ll go.”

Stone gave him another long look. “All right,” she said. She handed him a business card. “I may be contacting your people in the future. The Germans may think this was a job target Miss Klum, but I have my doubts. I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Mister Stall.”

“Thank you, Detective Stone,” Stall said, flashing her a slight smile. She gave him one last look, as if sizing him up, before taking off to go speak with her German counterpart.

* * *

“You’re sure?” Stall asked.

“Positive,” Tom Lambert’s voice came over the phone. “I had my people in the room about ten minutes before the police got there. The crime scene you and the shooter created down in the parking garage kept the cops out long enough for my guys to destroy the cameras I set up in the hotel room. No one will find them.”

“That was too close, Lambert,” Stall said. “We need to have a way to destroy the cameras in case they fall into the wrong hands.”

“Those wrong hands being the local constabulary,” Lambert said.

“Exactly,” Stall replied.

“I’ll see what I can come up with. For now, we’ll work with your portable cameras. I’ll try and get you an extra set ASAP.”

“Good job, Lambert,” Stall said.

“So, where to next, boss?” Lambert asked. “I take it you want out of Germany.”

“We’re going to the Czech Republic,” Stall said. “Heidi wants me to hide out for a day or two, and she told a friend we were coming.”

“A friend of Heidi Klum’s?” Lambert asked.

Stall actually smiled. “A young lady by the name of Petra Nemcova.”

* * *

“You’re sure?” Stone asked.

“Positive,” Daniel Coach’s voice came over the phone. “I had my buddy in Amsterdam, and he confirmed it. Those strange radio signals I’ve been tracking were active in Germany yesterday. One of them coming from very nearby the Cologne Hilton.”

“That’s a heck of a coincidence,” Stone said. “Could it be something the people who went after Stall are using to communicate with each other?”

“Can’t rule it out,” Coach replied. “But I can’t say that’s it, either.”

Stone rubbed at her temples. She’d spent the last two weeks in France, trying to catch up on the murder of a British Citizen. She’d all but given up – the only police force in the world more difficult to work with than the Germans were the French – when the report of the attack on Stall had come in. The English Embassy had requested Scotland Yard send someone over to help the investigation along, and, seeing as how Stone had literally been just across the border, she’d gotten re-routed to Cologne instead of London.

Unexplained murder to unexplained assassination attempt. Life was just peachy these days.

“Listen, Dan, get me everything you can on Richard Stall. What he does for a living, who he works with, who he works against. The Germans may be positive this was an attack on Klum, but I’m not.”

“Sure thing. You want me to see if any known terrorist groups have been using signals similar to the one’s I’ve been reading lately?”

“Can if you want, but I doubt you’ll find anything. Keep me up to date on all things Stall,” Stone said. “He’s the key here, somehow. The more I know about him, the better.”

* * *

February 23rd,

Home of Petra Nemcova,

Karvina, Czech Republic

Richard Stall had no idea quite how he’d gotten here. Karvina was a small, coal mining town lost deep in the Czech Republic, and was so far off the radar, it wasn’t even funny. That he’d find himself here, hiding from gunmen, was odd enough. That he was here with the company he was currently with was something even more.

“You’re more than welcome to stay a few more days, Mr. Stall,” Petra Nemcova said from her chair in the modest living room of her parents. “Heidi asked me to help you out, and for Heidi, I’d do just about anything.”

For half a second, Stall wanted to ask her if that involved lesbian sex. According to Heidi, the fashion model world was rife with homosexuality, both in the models and designers. Heidi had confessed more than once to Stall that she’d been with a few of her Victoria Secret friends and fellow Sports Illustrated models. Petra wasn’t on that list, at least as far as Stall knew.

But her companion of the moment, Veronica Varekova, was.

The gorgeous Czech model had recently gotten married to NHL star Petr Nedved, but, again according to Heidi, the (currently) blonde model was just as fond of women as she was of men. And that meant that Stall could barely keep his eyes off her.

Stall may have been in hiding from shooters, but the bet he’d made with the Timekeepers wasn’t far from his mind.

Veronica was visiting Petra as the latter recovered from her injuries incurred during the Tsunami that smashed most everything bordering along the Indian Ocean. Petra had spent something like eight hours clinging to a tree with a broken hip bone, and had also lost her boyfriend/fiancee in the disaster. Looking at her now, Petra was every bit as beautiful as she was when she’d appeared on the cover of Sports Illustrated’s famous Swimsuit issue, but now seemed somehow more frail, more delicate.

Veronica, a long time friend of Petra, had rushed as soon as possible to see Petra, and had been back and forth to Karvina frequently ever since. Petra was getting better, but slowly. She could walk with the help of crutches, and seemed to smile frequently. But Veronica seemed a bit distracted, and a call from Lambert might have explained that.

“Okay, this Nedved fellow,” Lambert said over the phone to Stall a few hours earlier, “he’s like most major sports stars. If he’s in a different town and pussy is being offered to him, he’s happy to sample. There are more than sixteen confirmed reports of him ‘scoring on goals’ that weren’t Veronica’s. According to my sources, she probably knows, but that doesn’t mean much. A lot of women put up with this stuff for the money.”

“But Veronica makes plenty of money on her own,” Stall pointed out.

“I don’t have all the answers, boss. If you want to bag her, you better use the chemical. She might be open to putting out, but I wouldn’t bet the farm on it.”

“Right,” Stall said. He’d use Lambert’s chemical, all right. If he could just get Veronica away from Petra for more than thirty seconds.

Stall would’ve gone after Petra – he actually thought her the more attractive of the two, but there would be little he could do sexually with the injured model, save perhaps go down on her. That didn’t make much of a video, and while he could have Marissa do it, it was probably a bit morbid.

Veronica, though, was in perfect shape, and, would more than make a fine video.

“Mr. Stall,” Veronica said suddenly, breaking him from his mental review, “perhaps you can help me with the dishes. Poor Petra’s parents are off running errands, and God knows Petra can’t be bothered with such tasks.”

“I can do the dishes, V,” Petra put in.

“No, you rest,” Stall said, smiling down at Petra. God, she was beautiful. But, then, so was Veronica, and this might be his chance. He went with the lovely Miss Varekova into the Nemcov kitchen, and before he knew it, he was washing dishes by hand as Veronica dried. He noticed her blouse was stretched a little tight over her chest, and her bluejeans were all but painted on her ass. All he needed right now was an opening to put some of the chemical on her skin, and those clothes would come off, and Stall would GET off.

His chance didn’t come until several minutes later, when, quite by accident, Veronica dropped a glass onto the floor.

“Oh my!” she gasped as the glass shattered into a few dozen pieces. “It just slipped.”

“It’s okay,” Stall said, bending over. Veronica followed him down, and soon the two were kneeling on the floor, picking up stray pieces of glass.

“Ouch!” Veronica said, suddenly, sticking her thumb in her mouth. “I cut myself.”

Seizing the moment, Stall carefully hit the button on his watch and allowed it to coat his left hand with the chemical aphrodisiac.

“Let me see,” Stall said, taking Veronica’s hand in both of his and glancing at the thumb. He made a show of looking for the injury, which really hadn’t been that bad, all the while gently massaging her hand with his, spreading the chemical across her palm while he was at it.

“You have very soft hands,” Veronica mention suddenly.

“I’m quite good with them,” Stall responded, actively massaging her hand now. Veronica’s nipples were already hard.

“What was that crash?”

The voice all but made Veronica jump, and she and Stall turned to see Petra entering the kitchen on her metal crutches, slowly coming towards them.

“It’s fine,” Stall said. “We just dropped a glass. We’re picking it up.”

“Are you both okay?” Petra asked.

“Well, I stabbed my thumb, but Richard here took care of it nicely,” Veronica said, grabbing Stall in a side hug that lasted a bit longer than it really should have. She was clearly under the influence of the chemical now.

Unfortunately, Petra noticed something wasn’t quite right with her friend.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Petra asked. “We have a first aid kit around here somewhere.”

“Listen to you!” Veronica said, moving over by Petra and putter her hands on her shoulders. “You can barely walk, and you’re worried about us! We’re fine! Go, rest, take a nap or something.”

“What’s going on, Veronica?” Petra asked.

“Dishes!” Veronica said, sounding frustrated. “We’re doing your dishes, you silly little twit! Now go rest before I put you to bed and take away your crutches.”

Petra looked at Veronica, looked at Stall, who shrugged noncommittally, then returned her gaze to Veronica.

“You’re sure you’re fine?” Petra asked.

“Yes. Go.”

Petra gave Stall one last look, and from her eyes, Stall knew that Petra knew something other than dishes was about to happen here. But the injured model left, and as soon as the door closed behind her, Veronica was all but on top of Stall.

“Have you ever had sex with a married woman?” Veronica asked as she approached Stall.

“Uh, yes, actually,” Stall said. Not counting celebs, he’d bedded at least four women he’d known to be married in his years in the Timekeeper’s Club, and suspected at least two others as hiding that fact from him. Not that it had ever bothered him.

“Do you think I’m sexy?” Veronica asked as she started to undo the buttons on her blouse.

“Yes,” Stall said.

“Boss?” Lambert’s voice broke into Stall’s head. His earpiece! He’d almost forgotten about it. “I’m getting all this right now,” Lambert said. Stall smiled at that. Trust Lambert to be on the ball and record all this. They’d only have one angle – that being from his pendant camera – but one angle would be better than none.

Veronica must have thought he was smiling at her, because she smiled back and finished unbuttoning her shirt. Her bra-less breasts were magnificent, ample beauties that defied gravity on their own and seemed almost too large for her delicate frame. Still, smiling, she came forward until she was all but pressed against her. With little effort, she reached down and unzipped his fly.

“In the past year, I’ve only been with my husband,” Veronica said as she slowly withdrew Stall’s cock from his pants. “But I’ve wanted others. I’ve wanted Petra for so long now, it’s all I’ve been able to do just to keep from molesting her in her own bed. I thought my lusts were only for other women, and that Petr would be more than enough man for me. Now, I see I’m wrong.”

“You are?” Stall asked as she gently circled his penis with her fingers.

“I am,” Veronica said, leaning in to him, unknowingly bringing her breasts into perfect view for the camera around his neck.

“I need you, Richard,” she said. “I need you now.”

“But Petra-” Stall said, pretending to be putting up a fight.

“Do me here. Now. Be quiet and be quick,” Veronica said. “Petra will never know.”

In response, Stall reached down and grabbed Veronica’s hips. Pulling her to him, he kissed her once before he started unbuttoning her jeans. The whole time, she gave him a very light, very delicate hand job, never doing anything more than teasing his cock with her fingertips. He couldn’t complain. He was hard enough to hit cricket balls with his dick at that moment, and her fingertips were effortlessly edging him on.

As soon as her pants hit the floor, he pulled aside the black thong panties she wore to cover her slit, and slid himself into her with one solid thrust.

“Oh, yes…” Veronica moaned. She leaned back, pulling him with her, until she hit the counter. Stall hefted her up until her ass was resting on it, almost perfectly aligned with his dick.

And then the fun began.

Quick and silent was the order of the day. The camera would have a great view of Veronica’s half-naked body, and Stall didn’t want to waste time with Petra possibly just on the other side of the door.

Veronica moaned slightly as Richard began to fuck her in earnest. His hands found her breasts, and he kneaded them as he went, her hands finding his back and clawing at it playfully. Occasionally, they would kiss, but for the next two or three minutes, it was all about sex, and what they could get from each other.

Surprisingly, Veronica came first – a side effect of the chemical perhaps – her juices coating Stall’s already soaked dick. It took him mere seconds to catch up, but before he could shoot his load, Veronica had already half passed out on him. As he filled her groggy body with his seed, he heard a noise behind him.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Petra Nemcova said, a disappointed look on her face.

“Petra-” Veronica started as she came to.

“You’re married, V,” Petra said. “And you, Mr. Stall, should’ve known better.”

“Uh, I’m sorry,” Stall said, unsure of what else he could say.

“I think, Mr. Stall, that you’ve worn out your welcome,” Petra said as she turned around and slowly left the room. Veronica, still half naked, ran after her, leaving stall with his pants half undone and a rather quick little movie to add to his collection.

“Hey Boss,” Lambert’s voice enter Stall’s head. “You want me to cut that last bit where Petra yells at you?”

“Yeah, Lambert,” Stall muttered into the tiny microphone in his collar. “Cut that.”

* * *

February 24th,

Home of Petra Nemcova,

Karvina, Czech Republic

The limo, still with a half-shattered window, left the Nemcov house early the next morning. Stall hadn’t seen Veronica all day, though Petra had seen him off, and actually given him a kiss on the cheek. He didn’t think all was forgotten, but perhaps Veronica had talked some sense into her fellow swimsuit model.

Or, maybe Petra was just a really good host.

“So, are we headed home now?” Michael Burke asked from the driver’s seat.

“Is that wise?” Marissa Call said. “I mean, if someone’s trying to kill you, going home sounds like the worst idea possible.”

“I can’t hide forever,” Stall pointed out.

“But you do have a bet to win,” Burke pointed out. “I mean, you could go home, but you’ve only gotten European celebrities on tape so far. Why not go on vacation somewhere exotic – and bag some babes while you’re at it.”

Stall blinked. He hadn’t thought of that much beyond fucking Veronica the night before.

“Hey, I’m up for it,” Marissa said. “As long as I get some of those babes.”

“But where to?” Stall asked.

“If I may make a suggestion,” Tom Lambert’s voice filtered into the car.

“What’s that, Lambert?” Burke asked.

“Africa,” Lambert said.

“Why Africa?” Marissa asked.

“Because my internet searching has found a few key celebs that are going to be hanging out on the continent early in March.”

“As long as at least one of them is actually FROM Africa, it should work,” Stall said. “Lambert, get us some tickets.”

“You’ll have to leave the limo behind,” Lambert pointed out.

“Fine. We need the window fixed anyway. Get me the details and we’re off.” Stall said, smiling.

To Be Continued…

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