Page 122 of Deep Cover

12

Cole

"Right this way, Mr. St. Martin." The girl was beautiful, dark complexion, big dark eyes, perfectly groomed. Her waterfall of black hair fell to her shapely ass, which moved under a tight white dress. Endless legs and very high black stilettos. I tried to imagine Annie in that outfit and bit my lip so as not to laugh. Annie was sexy in her natural unawareness of her charms. This woman, Alyssa Montpellier, was beautiful and exquisitely turned out, but every perfectly managed component that put together the whole of her was intentional.

Not that it wouldn't be a pleasure to peel the dress off her and leave stripes on that round ass. But there were times my attention was elsewhere.

The tour of Rio was breathtaking as always. Matt was back at the airport, seething, put in his place by Annie's outlined security measures. I went along with them because I liked the idea of none of my staff knowing exactly what I was doing here.

The building was a skyscraper, all gleaming metal and glass looking out from the penthouse conference room at vast blue seas. I'd need more beach time before we headed back to the States.

My own safety is paramount to me. I can't function if I'm constantly on the lookout and afraid. I can't do anything if I'm dead.

But hiring the best freed me up to meet with people who would give me an in with those people I needed to secure land from.

The Amazon Rainforest covers 60 percent of the landmass of Brazil. Mindboggling expanses of that are burned every day by shortsighted people who want to cattle farm or clear cut and do something else with the land. Wildfires had devastated huge swaths as well. The whole of the naturally beautiful and vitally important forest was in danger.

I was securing what I could in Brazil before I branched out into nearby countries.

The fact that Rio runs from the ultra rich to the ultra poor is no secret. That there's rampant corruption there is no secret either. There's corruption everywhere – other places just hide it better.

The meetings I had set up were with government officials who might or might not have sway in local politics, with politicians who might or might not have ties to organized crime, private citizens who could be part of god knows how many dangerous organizations, both legal and illegal. I would talk with anyone I needed to in order to secure tracts of land I could at least begin to protect and manage. I needed feet on the ground in Rio, and there were offices full of people in the U.S. finding me the people to meet with to arrange that. Background checks were being run as I toured the beaches and local hires would be doing interviews with candidates for me to meet with during this sojourn.

Annie was, for now, a pleasant distraction. For me, and for anyone I needed to distract with a beautiful girl on a well turned out man's arm. Together like that, we would fade into the background, another beautiful couple set among all the beautiful couples in this country.

And it was a chance to watch Annie in action. When she left my company at the end of our contract, she'd be looking for a lot of new things in her life, I expected. If the engagement to Mark Tomlin made it through her "treatment" and, unknown to him, her sexual slavery, he'd find a far different woman coming home to him.

He was probably used to that. I expect her undercover assignments changed her every time. Personally, I thought Mark Tomlin sounded like a shit, but that wasn't my business. Once Annie Knox walked away from our contract at the end of our year and a day, she was no longer my concern. Like selling one of my favorite cars. I might enjoy it while I had it and I might put it through its paces and expect the most out of the high performance toy. But once sold, she was somebody else's baby. But I thought when she returned to what she thought of as her life – as if time spent with me was somehow outside her actual life, a detour she wasn't actually living – she'd find herself making changes she couldn't foresee.

Watching Annie now was a joy, though. Here, while we were working, she was dressed in a white button-down shirt and black slacks. The pants had straight legs, not tapered or pegged, not loose and flowing. She'd been very specific about what she wanted and my seamstress had custom created them for her. The pants needed to hide the Smith & Wesson at her ankle and allow her to get to it quickly. She wore ankle height black boots with flat soles with great traction. At her waist she wore a Glock in a holster and that wasn't hidden. Whatever official paperwork had to be filed for Annie to open carry in Rio, it had either been done or the right people bought off. I didn't know or care because when it came down to You're not supposed to be carrying that gun, I thought the person actually carrying it had the upper hand. Violation of laws is something that I can afford to take care of.

"Let's go over the day's schedule again." That was Matt Branch on speaker phone from the hotel. He was in the loop but he wasn't present, and I thought the instant she got him off the phone, Annie would change things.

She didn't not trust Matt. But she wanted him out of the loop for the meetings because she wanted full control.

That was something I could very much understand.

The meetings took two days. Two days of my limited Portuguese put to the test. Annie spoke Spanish, which was marginally helpful, though it would be more useful for ordering drinks and food than understanding the meetings.

Mostly she watched. Silent, respectful. Doing her job and as far as I was concerned, doing it well.

There would be rewards in her future.

---