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Message-ID: <30895asstr$992718603@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: John3365a@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} {Jake Lucas series} RP Berlin Diversion (MF adventure humor) {John A}
Date: Sat, 16 Jun 2001 15:10:03 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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<1st attachment, "BERLIN.TXT" begin>

This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to real 
persons is unintentional and strictly coincidental.  If you are below 
the age of 18, or 21 depending on your locality, stop reading right 
now. If your government prohibits erotic literature, stop reading 
now and delete this. If you choose to continue, that is your decision 
-- and your responsibility -- not mine.

This is intended solely for adults, and any other rebroadcast, 
retransmission, and account of this game is strictly prohibited by the 
National Hockey League. Wait --The NHL doesn't care -- I care. Any 
unauthorized redistribution of this is in violation of copyright. I 
authorize the reader to make one copy for reading purposes only. I
expressly prohibit posting of this work on anyone's website, including 
but not limited to pay-sites, sites with advertising, and any type of 
site where a fee is charged. Any distribution without the author's 
permission is strictly prohibited.

DO NOT REPOST

"Berlin Diversion" Copyright (C) 2001 by John3365A@aol.com (John A). 
All rights reserved.
---------------------------

Author's note: I've also posted the third in the series: Coo Coo
Ca-choo Mrs. Robinson, which can also be found at my website:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/JohnA/www/  

This is the second installment in the Jake Lucas series.
All three stories can be found at my web site.

For those of you who don't want to go to my site (and why not, may I ask??)
I've reposted "Acquisition" today as well as this and the latest story.

You might want to read "Acquisiton" then this story before reading 
"Coo Coo Ca-choo Mrs. Robinson." You'll get a lot of plot and character 
development if you read the series in order.

Enjoy. And remember...don't forget to tip your waitress....

JA 1/19/01 and 6/16/01

------------



                        Berlin Diversion
                           by John A
                        Copyright (C) 2001

The annoying tweet, tweet of my pager roused me from a sound
slumber. My head throbbed slightly with the aftereffects of one
too many glasses of scotch as I tried to acclimate myself to the
foreign surroundings. 

There was someone in bed with me: April, the stewardess from
yesterday, I remembered a little more clearly. She was a naughty
little fuck, wasn't she? I was going to miss her; she was as fun
as she was sexy. I liked playfulness in a lover.

I placed an unsteady foot on the floor, almost falling out of
bed, before realizing that I was completely disoriented. I
stumbled around the completely darkened room, looking for my
pants and hoping like hell that my pager was in them.

"Fuck me!" I muttered as I stubbed my toe on what I later found
was the leg of a chair. Sorry April, I thought, but I need to
turn a light on before I kill myself.

"Again?" April asked with a groggy giggle, squinting and trying
to shield her eyes from the light. "You're insatiable. What time
is it?"

"A little after three," I glanced at my watch while searching for
my pants. "Sorry, love. My pager just beeped. Try to get back to
sleep."

Of course, telling someone to sleep with a bright light shining
in their eyes and a naked man stumbling around the room banging
into furniture and swearing isn't the easiest thing to do.

"Who would call you at this hour of the night?" she asked, lazily
looking at me through half-lidded eyes. The sheet was lightly
draped over her midsection, exposing her lovely breasts, their
nipples puckering slightly with exposure to the room air.

I ignored the question, as curious at what the answer to that
question was as April, as I found my trousers in a heap of
clothes on the floor and fished my pager out of my pocket.

"Piss off. My office." I shook my head vigorously knowing that
ten sorts of shit had to hit the fan for them to be calling me at
this hour. I'd had several deals in the works, but for the life
of me, I couldn't imagine which one was blowing up.

"Why would your office be calling now? It's like, four am in New
York now," April said sleepily.

"Yeah, but we have offices all around the world. I'm guessing my
call will be transferred to a foreign office. It can't be good,
though."

April leaned over curiously, brushing her thick black hair -- now
a disheveled mop -- out of her eyes, looking more attractive than
someone with the most finely coifed head. Something about a well-fucked 
woman looking almost feral that really stoked my fires. Still, 
I had other, more pressing, duties to attend to now.

I dialed the numbers from my pager's readout and waited for the
connection to go through to my company's Manhattan offices. I sat
on the edge of the bed waiting for an answer as April tenderly
rested her hand on my naked penis, soft and limp until she began
lazily running her fingers over it.

I could hear the clicking on the other end of the line as the
switchboard operator transferred my call to my administrative
assistant's home.

"Hello. Lucas here.... Jeannie, hun, this better be good. What
are *you* calling me at this hour for anyway?"

My secretary continued and I listened intently, frowning at much
of what she said. I looked down and noticed that April had
stopped fondling my dick and was sitting up with an odd
expression on her face.

"Shit. Fucking bastards. Well, I'll be there as soon as I can..."

"No, I'm not upset. Make the arrangements... Good. What time?
You've got to be shitting me. 5:30?   ... No, no.... You know I
love you," I smiled. "Talk to you later, hon. Bye."

April had pulled the sheet up over her breasts, sitting in a very
defensive position, knees up to her chin. I searched for my
underwear, not giving it a second thought until she spoke.

"You said you weren't married," she said in an accusatory voice.

"I'm not doll, why?" I stopped getting dressed and turned to face
her. I was so tired that I didn't remember if anything I'd said
on the phone gave her the impression that I was still married.
Damn complicated women; it's not as if I gave a frog's fat ass as
to whether or not *she* was married. Was I the only person left
alive still living the sexual revolution?

"Don't give me any bullshit," she said disgustedly, shaking her
head. "You men are all alike."

"What?" I really didn't have time for this, but couldn't for the
life of me figure out what she was talking about.

"The call," she said in a snotty tone of voice. " 'Jeannie,
honey' and 'I love you'. God, you didn't even have the decency to
hide it."

I chuckled. Of course, she thought I was laughing at her. She
could have killed me with the daggers her eyes were shooting out
at me.

I started to say something but I couldn't get the first syllable
out. "Just fuck off and leave, ok. We'll just forget all this
happened," she snapped and hung her head in her hands.

I was tempted to take her up on her suggestion. Really tempted.
But there was something about April that I liked. Plus, I had a
real weakness for upset women. Yet, based on the looks April was
firing in my direction, it would have been real easy to turn tail
and leave. Against my better judgement, I stayed and tried to
explain.

"Listen, April. That *was* my office. Jeannie is my
secretary...and I do love her. She's saved my ass more times than
I can count."

April softened a bit, but I was still keeping my nuts out of
knee's distance from her.

"Why is she calling at this time of night?"

"Because a deal of mine is, at this very minute, going down the
crapper," I sighed and sat back down on the bed, feeling a bit
safer.

"At this hour?" her tone softened.

"Yeah, it's a merger of a unit of a German company into an
American conglomerate. So it's ten o'clock in Germany. We're at
the dot the I's and cross the T's stage and the fucking Germans
are squawking. Jeannie already made the reservation for me to
take the first flight to Berlin this morning."

I sat back against the headboard and she sidled up to me, rubbing
her hand consolingly on my arm.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I mean...there are a lot of guys out
there with wives and they...well, they're always making up lame
excuses. I guess I just thought...I don't know," she smiled
weakly. "You're not married? Really?"

"Nope. I don't cheat...well, anymore. Nobody to cheat on. Makes
it easy for me that way," I grimaced.

April looked at me with her light brown eyes, wide and hopeful
like a puppy looking for a second chance after taking a crap in
your shoe, and let the sheet fall down exposing her breasts once
again.

"I'm sorry Jake. I guess I was starting to like you. I got mad
and hurt. I'm sorry, you know...you seemed like a really nice
guy."

"Nice guy? I'm not sure about that. I didn't get divorced twice
for being a boy scout," I smirked. 

"That was in the past, right? Why don't you come here." She
lifted the sheet up, exposing herself fully. Her moist lips
opened slightly and I could feel my cock twitch.

"I hate to say this, doll, but I've got to get my ass to Germany
in a hurry."

April pouted slightly -- more of a pouty smirk --  and held her
hand out for me. "Just a little while?"

Weakness in character, I suppose. I had $40 million on the line
that I had ten to twelve hours -- maybe a day at the most -- to
unsnag and what did I do? Well, April was waiting with her messed
hair and crooked smile and upturned nipples punctuating her full
breasts, enticing me back to bed. And Berlin was just so far
away. 

I thought with my dick, of course.


I discarded my boxers and slid next to April's warmth. We kissed
hungrily as my erection grew. She positioned me on my back as she
lowered her mouth over my erect cock. Earlier in the evening, I
learned first hand that April was an expert fellatrix, and she
certainly wasn't disappointing me with this curtain call,
masterfully bobbing on my shaft, sending jolts of pleasure down
to my toes.

"You like that?" she asked coyly, climbing up and straddling my
hips, inching forward, so the head of my prick was right at her
entrance.

"Mmm. Where did a nice girl like you learn to do something like
that so well?" I teased, as she lowered herself, enveloping my
hardness in one smooth motion.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she deflected with a smirk before
plunging her tongue into my mouth. "I have a lot of secrets."

I grabbed her ass as she rolled her hips slowly on my cock,
rhythmically massaging me through her wet folds. She broke our
kiss and raised up to allow my mouth access to her lovely
breasts.

She swayed her upper body with the same rhythm that she fucked
me, sliding first one then the other breast into my eager mouth.
Her coral-tinged nipples stiffened as they ran roughly over my
face and I darted out my lips to corral them. After about fifteen
minutes she sped her movements on my dick and buried her head
into my chest, breathing heavily. The increased speed was all it
took for me to blast blissfully into her thirsty pussy.

April bucked on my deflating cock, trying to get blood from where
there was none. Our breathing returned to normal and she looked
up and kissed me softly on the lips.

"Didn't you finish, doll?" I asked, getting out of bed.

"Mm-hum," she acknowledged, grinning lasciviously. "Once. A small
one. I was hoping for more, though. Like earlier tonight."

"I suppose I owe you then," I winked. "I guess I'll have to repay
you when I'm back in the states." 

I continued getting dressed, not bothering with a shower since
the latest romp with April took longer than it should have. Hell,
it shouldn't have started at all. It was almost four am, and
Jeannie had said the first flight from DFW to JFK in New York was
at 5:30. I still had to drive to my hotel, get my things and head
to the airport. If I missed the flight out of Dallas, I'd be
guaranteed to miss the connection to the British Airways Concord
that would whisk me across the Atlantic in about three and a half
hours. And if I missed that flight there was no way possible that
I could ever get to Berlin today; I may as well have just stayed
in Dallas and kissed the deal goodbye.

April got out of bed and helped gather my clothes, standing naked
with her hair mussed and drops of semen trickling down her
thighs. God, she was sexy. If I thought I could get it up again
this quickly, I would have jumped back into bed. Fortunately for
me, I was as limp as a cooked noodle and I finished getting
dressed without a second thought.

I reached into my wallet and April's brows started to knot. I
wondered if she thought that I was going to give her money.
"Here's my card, sweetie. Give me a call at my office or home.
Probably easier to call the office. Jeannie always knows where I
am. Let's get together when I get back from Europe."

She smiled and relaxed as she clutched the card. 

"I hate to run like this, but if I don't get to Berlin today, I'm
fucked."

We kissed goodbye for longer that I probably should have, given
that every second was at a premium if I was going to make the
5:30 flight. April smacked my ass and smirked as I was leaving
the room and I chuckled heading down the hallway toward the
elevator.

Cheeky, I thought. This one's got spunk. I like that.


After a brief argument with the gate attendant, I managed to
convince her that I wasn't an international terrorist and was
allowed on the plane a mere five minutes before take off. The
plane was full as I entered and found my row. My seatmate was a
middle aged man with greying temples and a pot belly. He was
dressed casually and barely acknowledged my presence when I sat
down before turning his attention back to the book he was
reading.

About ten minutes after we were in the air, I fell into a deep
sleep, only to be awakened an hour later by a flight attendant
bringing me a tray of breakfast. Well, an hour of sleep is better
than nothing, I thought, yawning, as she placed my food on the
tray on front of me.

Still sleepy and not appetized by my plate of food, I was looking
down, rubbing my eyes when I noticed the stewardess's legs. They
were a little coltish, but shapely and nicely tanned. As I
brought my eyes up she seemed to have a nice ass, but who can
really tell with those uniforms? 

Then she turned around. 

My word, the woman was wearing enough makeup on her face to be a
floor display at a cosmetic counter. No thanks, I thought. The
memory of April wasn't that far gone for me to want someone old
enough to be her mother. I politely asked her for a double Chivas
-- ignoring her look of shock and disgust after she looked at her
watch and saw that it was, indeed, only 6:45 am. As she returned
and perfunctorily handed me my scotch -- breakfast of ex-champions -- 
I wondered what the retirement age for stewardesses was.


My flight into Berlin's Tegel airport from London was uneventful,
other than for my call to my firm's Berlin office. The plane was
scheduled to arrive in Berlin at 10:30 at night and I wanted to
make some arrangements to get some work done before the meeting
the following morning so I placed a call to the Berlin office.

I had spoken to an automaton named Gunther something-or-other who
refused just about every request I had, at one point telling me
in clipped English and utter German self-righteousness that the
deal was of no concern to him and I should make arrangements to
work during normal business hours. Then to my complete shock and
amazement, Gunther hung up the phone.

My next call, to Avery Reynolds, the President and Chief
Executive Officer of my firm was placed almost immediately. The
only thing I waited for was Grandma Moses, in the charming manner
I was becoming accustomed to seeing from her, to bring me another
drink. While on the phone with me, Avery cursed the Germans in
every derogatory way he could think of, regretting our purchase
of the German brokerage with which we were now dealing. Their
merging into out corporate culture was more difficult than he
originally envisaged and we were always having conflicts with
them over one issue or another. These Germans were stubborn, and
were having a difficult time doing things the way the corporate
office in New York wanted. 

Of course, until Avery calmed down, he was of a mind to fire the
entire Berlin executive suite, replacing them with people who
knew how to follow a fucking directive.

While I was still on the phone with him, he placed a call to the
head of the Berlin office, to whom he transferred my call. I
found myself speaking to Dieter Krauss, executive vice president
of Tate and Reynolds - Germany, who, though more conciliatory
than Gunther something-or-other, was nonetheless put out at the
suggestion that they should give me the assistance that I wanted,
and spoke to me in very short, terse, sentences, as if he was
suffering a fool. Didn't these people understand that there was
$40 million at risk here?

"Herr Lucas, you must understand that your arrival is throwing
our office into chaos," he said in perfect, but accented English,
punctuating his points by placing hard emphasis on the final
syllable of most of the words. "Your requests fall outside of our
normal operating procedures."

"Look, Wilhelm..."

"It is Dieter," he corrected, oblivious to my, admittedly
obscure, reference to an old American television program.

"Whatever," I said, frustrated in the constant roadblocks we had
to drive around when dealing with the Berlin office. They were
worse than the ultra-efficient Swiss. "I don't give a good
goddamn about what the normal operating procedures are. We have
$40 million at risk here. That's 80 million Marks. So, think of
the chaos that will going to cause if the deal falls through. The
schei e is going to hit the fan."

"But, you will not be arriving until at least eleven this
evening, the staff will..."

I cut him off sharply. "I don't care what it takes, I'm still
operating on Texas time, so it's only going to feel like four in
the afternoon for me. Get used to the idea that I'm planning on
working late into the night. You don't seem to get that we have a
deal that's barely hanging by a thread."

"But, the meeting tomorrow is at one pm, that gives us..."

"Listen. When I land at Tegel I want a car and driver waiting for
me, prepared to take me to the office. When I get there, I want
an office set up for me and every file that you have on Nationale
Halbleiterindustrien. And I want at least one assistant who can
speak English as proficiently as German. I want no
misunderstanding tonight and especially for the meeting
tomorrow."

"If you were under me in this office, I would..."

I interrupted impertinently. "From what I've seen so far, if I
were stationed at your office, I'd be running the fucking place
by now."

"Is there anything else that you demand of us?" he asked
indignantly. "Perhaps a massage and a facial too?"

"Lets get this straight, Wilhelm, I woke up at three in the
morning and I'm flying 6,000 fucking miles today so I can wet
nurse you through this deal. A deal, I might add, that should
have gone through without a hitch. Remember that as you gallop
off on your high horse. Good bye." Fucking moron.

I could somewhat see why Krauss would get testy with me, though.
I was very rude to him when I ordered him around and was and he
obviously was accustomed to running things. And to top that off,
he was technically over me in the whole corporate chain of
command, though I never much cared for any type of chain of
command. The bottom line in my book was getting the job done. The
only one I took orders from was Reynolds -- and only sometimes
with him, too. I tolerated Reynolds because he brought me to the
I-banking side of the street, and he also -- after scraping
through the first few layers of his bullshit -- knew his stuff
and was one of the brightest and most resourceful men in the
history of Wall Street. He, on the other hand, tolerated me
because I brought in, and closed, more business than any three
other people at the firm. That, and I got him laid without his
wife knowing about it.


A black Mercedes was waiting for me at the airport after I
landed. The driver said nothing, but could definitely tell from
his body language that I was not going to win a popularity
contest in Dieter Krauss' Berlin office.

Dieter himself met me at the elevator on the 23rd floor of the
almost brand new skyscraper on the Unter den Linden in which
Tate-Reynolds was located. His handshake was firm and polite, but
the expression on his face was anything but. Which was fine by
me. I was in no mood for small talk anyway.

"This is your office, in here," Krauss said in clipped tones, as
he led me to a spacious conference room that seemed as if it had
been hastily converted into an office, with two computers, phones
and fax machines covering part of the large oval table. "Your
assistant will be in momentarily. She can see to any of your
needs. Is there anything further you can require of me?" he
asked, though, I'm not sure how sincere the offer was. My initial
reaction was to say 'I'll take that massage now,' but I thought
that might be pushing my luck. Instead, I simply smiled and
thanked him as he expressionlessly walked out of the makeshift
office.

Five minutes later a light knock on the door interrupted my
reading of a file. Into the room stepped a young woman, barely
older than a girl it seemed, with a bloom of freshness on her
cheek. Bright blonde hair and tall, she was the embodiment of
Aryan perfection. Cute in a wholesome girl-next door way, but not
beautiful, her dark business suit contrasted her scrubbed, white
skin and pale blue eyes. I suppose I stared.

"Mr. Lucas?" she said softly with just the hint of accent.

I nodded and smiled. "Call me Jake. And you are?"

"Lotte Schmidt." She closed the distance between the two of us
and shook my hand confidently. "I am to be under you?"

"Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Maybe we'll have a few
drinks and get to know each other first."

Lotte furrowed her brow in confusion and then, as if the flirt
translator kicked in fully, she blushed deeply and tried to hide
a smile.

"I am to be your assistant, correct?" she reworded, smiling. Her
English was perfect. Of course, most foreigners I've met who
speak English, speak it better than most Americans -- or Brits,
for that matter.

We worked diligently for the next couple of hours, poring over
scores of financial documents and files, making notes and
calculating figures for the next afternoon's meeting. Everyone
had long left the office, leaving just the two of us to our task.
Lotte was incredibly efficient and thorough, making my job much
easier. I had negative preconceptions about the ability of the
Berlin office to accomplish anything but the most insignificant
task, but she changed all that. And to top it off she was warm
and friendly, debunking yet another myth.

"I think we have them by the balls. There's no way they'll back
out now. What do you think, Lotte?" I said as I plopped back into
a high backed leather arm chair. I was exhausted and she seemed
tired as well.

"We covered everything nicely. I really can't see them finding
another alternative. If I can say so, it was a pleasure working
with you. In just these short hours I've learned more than I have
working here for three years."

"Well, I couldn't have gotten it done without you, thanks." I
smiled. "And I'll still need you tomorrow at the meeting."

"I doubt I'll be allowed to attend, I'm merely an assistant. I
volunteered for this assignment for the experience. But thank you
anyway."

"You'll be at the meeting," I corrected. "The way you went over
everything was as thorough and professional as I could have hoped
for. You're the only one I'm going to trust in there with me.
I'll handle Krauss." 

Lotte beamed. "Thank you very much, Herr Luc...ah, Jake."

"Well, now that all that's out of the way, I'm thirsty. Anyplace
around we can get a drink that's still open?"

"Berlin is a twenty-four hour city. Bars and nightclubs are open
all night long," she said. 

My kind of town.

"What do you say we go out for a couple of drinks, get to know
each other a bit."

"And then what do you have in mind?"

"Well, I thought we'd start with drinks and take it from there."
She couldn't be *that* innocent, could she?

"Is it required as part of my job description?" Lotte asked
matter-of-factly. These Germans were nothing if not forthright. 

"Hell no" I replied. "I just thought...ahhh, I don't know what I
thought."

"I see," she said thoughtfully, sitting on the edge of the oval
table, swinging her legs back and forth, grinning wickedly. Lotte
looked directly into my eyes as she unbuttoned her blouse,
revealing a lacy black bra holding up small, but perky, breasts.
I stammered, not really sure of what was going on.

"Are you uncomfortable? You had wanted to be the one to seduce
me, to be...how do you say it? To be in the driver's seat? Are
you uncomfortable with a woman doing the seducing?"

I had to hand it to her, she was definitely a confident girl. I
smiled and stood in front of her. "However you want it darling,
is fine with me."

We kissed softly and tenderly. I caressed one of her breasts
through the bra, feeling the nipple stiffen under the lacy
material. My other hand ran through her short blonde hair as she
flashed her hand out for my hardening penis.

I unclasped her bra, exposing two beautifully shaped, milky-white
breasts as Lotte lowered the zipper of my trousers. She fished my
hardness out of the opening in my boxers and stroked it in a
slow, teasing cadence, pumping it with her fist.

I kissed her again, and lowered her back to the table. She spread
her legs and hooked them over my shoulders, urging me closer to
her pussy with her smooth, pale legs. The musky aroma of her sex
wafted up to my nostrils as I lowered my face. Sliding the crotch
of her panties aside, I was pleasantly surprised to find a
freshly shaved pussy. My tongue licked her lips, thickening with
arousal, up one side and down the other. 

"Gott, der f hlt sich gut," she groaned. I was hoping she was
expressing pleasure. For all I knew she was saying that I didn't
know how to eat pussy. My ego convinced myself that it was the
former.

I licked in and around her folds, repeatedly thrusting my tongue
into her vagina, alternating that with rough flicks of her clit.
Her legs tightened around my head and shoulders as she moaned in
pleasure as the waves of an orgasm washed over her body.

I started to stand, but her legs held me fast. "Wieder...Again.
Do it again." Lotte thrust her hips upward, forcing contact
between her vulva and my mouth.

So I did it again. 

And again.

And yet again.

After the fourth of her orgasms, Lotte sighed and relaxed her
legs as she started humming a sweet tune, softly and with a smile
on her face. Just in time, my tongue was getting sore.

Standing, I lifted her hips and plunged smoothly into her now-sloppy 
cunt, pistoning forcefully into her as she wrapped her
legs around my waist. I grabbed her tightly by the hips and
pumped furiously into her. My cock hardened even more, if that
was possible, and I knew it was just a matter of seconds. 

"Oh fuck," I grunted, feeling myself pulse into my assistant,
grunting incoherently as I emptied myself into her.

I offered a hand to help Lotte up off the table. Dressing was
actually easy for us. All that I had to do was zip up and Lotte
just had to slide the crotch of her panties back. We kissed
contentedly before I placed a few files in my briefcase,
preparing to leave.

"You know, Lotte," it occurred to me, "I don't have a ride back
to my hotel, my driver left hours ago."

She smiled coyly as she grabbed me by the tie and pulled my head
down for another kiss. "That's ok. You can come home with me."

My word, this was going to be a tiring night.


Lotte led me by hand into her bedroom, a rather nondescript room
typical of single twenty-somethings: large bed, dresser with
mirror and a few little knick-knacks atop it, bureau, a couple of
generic prints on the walls, and not much else of note. We tore
off each other's clothes, attacking each other with renewed
sexual fervor. Skipping the preliminaries, we fucked for the next
couple of hours in any number of different positions until
exhaustion finally won out and we fell asleep with Lotte lying
atop me and my softening penis just dropping out of her pussy.


The blaring of the alarm woke me with a start. I was having some
enjoyable dream that faded too fast after I woke for me to
remember. Lotte leaned over and lazily slapped the snooze button.
Five minutes later, at 7:05, the alarm buzzed again and she sat
up on the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes. She arched her back
like an Olympic swimmer executes a dive off the ten meter
platform -- smooth and graceful. 

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" She turned, her breasts
standing out firmly.

"Mmm-hum," I mumbled groggily. "I'm a little sore though."

She giggled and pounced up out of bed. Oh, to be 25 again. "Did
you have fun?"

I snickered and reached out for her arm as she walked by my side
of the bed. "What do *you* think?"

She leaned down and kissed me on my forehead. "I think you
enjoyed yourself very much. Of course, you're very skilled at
what you do," she grinned modestly. "Although I also think that
I'm not the first co-worker you've had relations with."

"Well, if it's any consolation, you're the first German co-worker," 
I grinned and Lotte chuckled as she walked into the
bathroom. I had half a mind to follow her, but I wasn't sure my
cock would survive another romp with the insatiable Lotte.
Instead I made a telephone call to an associate I had in Berlin
and waited for the shower to be free.


"Are you sure that your friend gave you the right place?" Lotte
asked, driving us along the Fennstrasse toward Fritz-Schloss-Park. 
I had made arrangements to meet with an old associate of
mine who operated out of Berlin. I didn't need to go into the
meeting until one o'clock, and I thought that the less time I
spent around Krauss, the better. Unfortunately, Lotte needed to
be at the office by nine, or the morning could have gone much
more pleasurably,

"Yeah, he's very precise. He said to meet him on Kruppestrasse
near the park."

We arrived at the designated spot. I looked around at the waves
of people milling about, but there was no sign of the man I was
going to meet.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"He's discreet. He's around in the crowd somewhere."

"Ahh, I see," she snickered, shaking her head. "You are meeting
another woman?"

I chuckled. "Nope. Are you shitting me? After last night? You
wore me out, doll. The man I'm meeting...hmmm...likes to keep a
low profile."

"He is wanted by the authorities, then?" she asked. Her tone
wasn't one of surprise, rather one on simple curiosity.

I laughed again. "No...you might say he *is* one of the
authorities."

Lotte nodded but didn't ask any more and I didn't offer. When she
dropped me off at the corner of Rathenowerstrasse and
Kruppestrasse, I leaned over kissed her on the cheek. "See you
this afternoon, doll."

I stood in the park, one of the dozens lining the city, walking
amidst the large throng, pretending to admire the statues and
fountains. After about five minutes, a tall, wiry man, dressed in
a tweed sportcoat casually walked aside me.

"Berlin, on such short notice. To what do we owe the honor? Or
have I been put totally out of the loop?" he said in a voice made
gravelly from too many cigars and too much time spent in places
the rest of us are better off not knowing about.

"Hello Andy," I smiled at the man with gray, thinning hair, who
walked with a distinct, rapid cadence.

"Just keep walking. I've got a tail"

"Where?"

"Four o'clock," he indicated that the person following him was
behind and to the right. "Bright blue t-shirt and jeans. Fruity
looking guy."

"Fruity looking? This is Berlin, that really doesn't narrow it
down that much." I pretended to point out something, carefully
looking back instead, where I spotted my friend's follower. "Kind
of young, don't you think?"

Andrew Maxwell chuckled. "I should be insulted, sending a kid out
to do a man's job. Just keep walking. There's a small bar on Otto
Dix Strasse. About a five minute walk from here..."

"I know it," I interrupted.

Maxwell chuckled. "Of course you do...it's a bar. Anyway, I'll
lose this guy and we can meet there. Fifteen minutes."

We separated, with Andrew heading to the left and me staying
where I was, bending to look at a bed of crocuses. As soon as we
parted, Maxwell's follower sprinted off after him, thoroughly
ignoring me. I backtracked past the area that blue-shirt was just
standing, and headed off to Otto Dix Strasse to the meeting with
Maxwell at the bar. My last image upon leaving the park was of a
large mass of people bumping into and surrounding a very confused
and frustrated looking young man in a bright blue shirt.

I found the bar and entered the dimly lit room, surprised at the
number of people inside at a little past eight in the morning.
But ever since the wall fell in 1989, Berlin has been a hotbed of
construction and demolition, wreaking havoc with traffic, and
altering the skyline at a rate more rapid than at any point in
its history. Construction went around the clock and most of the
people in the bar had probably just finished their shift.

I ordered some potato pancakes and took a seat at a relatively
secluded table in the rear of the room, giving me a good view of
the door.

My old friend walked in, let his eyes adjust to the light, and
walked over to join me after giving an order to the bartender and
pointing at my table.

"Good to see you, Jacob. How are you doing?" He sat down and
exhaled, offering his hand and shaking mine. The years seemed as
if they were starting to take their toll on this once highly
energized man.

"Not too bad, Andy. You?"

He shrugged. "The same." The wear-and-tear was finally starting
to show on his face. But considering he'd been a CIA field
operative for 19 years and then bureau chief for the past 13
years, he looked good. "What are you doing in Berlin?" he asked 

"Work...the brokerage. Douchebags in the Berlin office would fuck
up a wet dream." I proceeded to tell Maxwell about the problems
with the Nationale Halbleiterindustrien deal.

"I heard about Dallas...very clean take out."

"News travels fast," I smiled. "Thanks. Wasn't a tough job...he
kept same routine every day. Used to like to walk his dogs in the
afternoon. He made it easy. Only took one shot," I replied.

"Well, I heard that his cartel in Columbia is in a big pile of
shit now. All of those fucking little dictators are trying to
seize power for themselves."

"That should slow coke importation for awhile. But I still think
we should have grabbed him and extracted info from him instead of
taking him out," I said.

He shrugged. "Orders are orders. I'm not going to shed any tears
because an asshole like Ramirez got taken out. How many fucking
lives has that prick destroyed?"

"You've got a point," I agreed.

"So Andy...when I called you this morning, I just wanted to say
hi -- maybe get together for dinner or something. Obviously you
have something in mind if you wanted to meet like this."

"Well, there is something going on in my little section of the
world." Maxwell took a small metallic object out of his jacket
pocket. It was roughly the size and shape of a ballpoint pen cap.
He flipped a tiny switch on the side of it and it emitted a small
hum.

"What's that?"

"A new toy," he smiled. "Sound distorter. Anyone listening with a
parabolic or a bug just hears static...very convenient."

"Cool, I need to get me one of those."

"Yeah, but you'd just use it when you're trying to pick up
someone's wife," Andy laughed. "Anyway, the real reason I wanted
to see you is that there's some serious stuff going on near the
Rhine. Might be Germany, might be France. In the vicinity of
Strasbourg."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Unexplained deaths."

"High level people?" I asked, leaning forward. "I can't remember
any big names buying it recently."

Maxwell shook his head. "No. Regular people. Perfectly healthy
one day, dead as a door nail the next."

"Why do you need me? This sounds like a job for the Germans or
the Surete. Where does the CIA play into local deaths, even if
it's homicides?" I quieted down as the waiter brought our orders
to us.

"I'm still not sure. It might be nothing, but the working theory
is that they've all died from this industrial strength poison."

"Like anthrax or something like that?"

"From what the people at Langley Medical think, this stuff makes
anthrax look like a case of the fucking sniffles."

"Holy shit. In the wrong hands..."

Andy interrupted. "In anyone's hands," he said dourly, letting
his unspoken words hang like the pall they were. "For one thing,
this can't be a small scale operation. This has some major
backing. Like a major chemical or drug company or something like
that. This isn't someone's garage project. This stuff is A1
quality. The medical people seem to think that this stuff can be
targeted, unlike anthrax. So it can be selective...get the
picture.

"So, if it can be selective it can be deployed in small sample
areas. Kind of like a display," I said, exhaling at the potential
of the scenario.

"Exactly," Andy agreed. "So whoever has this and wants to put it
to use can target a small area, wipe out everyone, then ask for
the fucking world."

"Shit. World wide blackmail." I shook my head.

"That's the potential...if the theory is correct. The possibility
also remains that it's some freaky chemical offshoot that's been
leached into the water and has combined with some interactive
chemical in the victims to instantly kill them. It may rest
inert, except in certain people who have the complimentary
chemical floating around in their bloodstream. Or it may be
anything in between."

"No offense Andy, but you don't have a hell of a lot to go on. I
mean, at this stage it sounds like the people in medical need to
get a lot more work done on it."

"Oh, I know," he agreed. "One of the problems they have is that
this seems to breakdown almost instantly. They think it breaks
down even before the person is dead. The only reason they know
anything about it at all, is that one of the people affected was
driven to the hospital right when he first started exhibiting
symptoms. Profuse sweating, high fever, swelling of the tongue.
The hospital extracted some blood, which we got ahold of. Other
than that, we'd still be in the dark. Here's the kicker, though.
All the deaths took place within a two day period. Nothing
suspicious before, nothing suspicious after. I have a couple of
field guys doing recon. around the Rhine River valley. How long
you going to be in Europe?"

"About two more weeks. Taking a little time off. Although I now
somehow don't think I'm going to have all that time for
vacationing."

"We'll see. Your position with Tate-Reynolds could get you close
to some big companies. Close without arousing suspicion, you
know? But at this point, I don't have any specifics. I'm supposed
to get a report from the field in a few days. Are you staying in
Berlin?"

"Nope. After this little deal goes through, I'm heading to the
Villa la Massa near Florence and might spend some time at Lake
Como."

"You got the fucking life, Jacob," Andy smiled, shaking his head
at me. "Can I ask you a question? We've known each other for
something like twelve years, and I've never figured out why you
do it."

"Do what?" I asked.

"You know. The company...you know, the spy stuff. assassinations,
missions. All the crap. I mean, you're loaded. You don't need
money. What is it?"

I knotted my brow. "I'm not sure. I like it. It's fun, I guess.
It gives me a rush, I suppose. I mean, where else does a guy get
to go out and do something for his country, taking out douchebags
like that asshole Ramirez. He's been coordinating Columbian
activities for years. With one shot the other day, I put his
whole operation into chaos. It's a rush, I guess."

"You know some people get their kicks skiing or mountain
climbing," he chuckled. "But, that being said, I don't know that
I've seen many people like you in this line of work who like it
and are as good at it as you."

I smiled. "Ahhh, I'm just lucky, is all."

Andy looked at his watch. "Shit, I have a meeting with the
director of German internal intelligence in twenty minutes. I've
got to get going." He switched off the device on the table and
handed it to me. "Here, take this one. I have a dozen back at my
office."

"Thanks, Andy. Hey, it was great seeing you."

"You too, Jacob. Give me a call in about four or five days --
through the Frankfurt secure number -- and I'll let you know if
we have anything."

"Sure thing. I'll be relaxing in Italy," I smiled.

"Bringing the blonde that dropped you off?" he smiled broadly,
shaking his head. 

"Nah. I don't think so. She probably wouldn't get time off,
anyway. She was a Berlin diversion, I think."

"You know, one of these days that dick of yours is going to get
you into trouble."

I laughed. "Hell, Andy. I'll be worried when the day comes that
it's *not* able to get me into any trouble."



The office was abuzz when I walked in about fifteen minutes
before one. Dieter Krauss' secretary smiled warmly at me as she
showed me into his office.

"Ah, Herr Lucas, I had thought you'd be in the office much
earlier than this so we could go over things."

"I did all the prep work we needed to do last night. The only
thing left is to close this deal...again," I said with a little
frustration in my voice. "And by the way, if I were you, I'd give
Fraulein Schmidt a promotion. She knows her stuff backward and
forward."

"Well, I'll take that under advisement," Krauss said flatly,
obviously giving my assessment no credence whatsoever.

I shook my head. "Anyway. We're all set. I assume you'll sit in
on the meeting?"

"Of course," Dieter said imperiously. "I also will have three of
our finance people and two attorneys with us too. If you had been
in earlier than this, we would have had the opportunity to
discuss our strategy."

"And Miss Schmidt will be there too," I stated.

"No," he said flatly. "We do not need her. I have some of the
finest people we have."

"Look, she was the only one who was willing to work with me last
night. She's also very bright and knows what I want to do in the
meeting. She'll be there. If you don't like it, you don't have to
show up."

"Herr Lucas, up until now we have tolerated you out of deference
to Herr Reynolds. But you will not come in to *my* office and
dictate office hierarchy and how meetings will be conducted. Is
that clear?" His voice was raised, his jaw was clenched and he
pounded his hand on the desk.

"Look Wilhelm, I don't care how offended you are or what you
think of me personally or professionally, but I'm here to get the
job done because your guys can't. This was a fucking slam-dunk
deal that you just pissed away. So you can call Alvin Reynolds or
Marshall Tate or Marshall Tate's dead father or anyone else in
the fucking corporate office for all I care. I don't give a rat's
ass. I'm here to tie the knot that you loosened and then I'm out
of here. So you listen to me. The meeting will commence at one
pm. In the meeting will be me and Lotte Schmidt. I don't care who
else you place in the meeting, but I'm coordinating things and
nobody -- I repeat, nobody -- from this office speaks unless I
specifically ask for their input. And that includes you. Do I
make myself clear?"

Krauss lowered his eyes in resignation as I headed out of his
office. I asked Krauss' secretary to contact Lotte's office to
have her meet me in the conference room. Dieter came out a minute
later, made no acknowledgment of my presence, and asked his
secretary to instruct six people -- including Lotte Schmidt -- to
meet near his office in preparation for the Nationale
Halbleiterindustrien meeting.

In the seven minutes before the meeting, I found that the staff
that Krauss selected were efficient, intelligent, and very well
prepared. In fact, with the exception of Krauss and Gunther
something-or-other, I really liked the Germans I'd met and worked
with. I'd always found them to be a hard-working, industrious
people; polite, almost to a fault, and extremely likable -- well,
except for when they're scaring the shit out of the French. 

The executives for Nationale Halbleiterindustrien were being
stubborn, making several types of excuses for their bail-out,
looking noticeably unsure of their position. They evidently had
entered into negotiation with another company and were trying to
play the two companies -- Silicon Semiconductor, whom we
represented, and the as yet unnamed other suitor -- against each
other.

Their finance people spouted countless numbers of statistics and
our people countered by handing me sheets of paper with our
numbers. They remained true to my instructions and didn't say a
thing unless I specifically asked them something.

After a few more minutes of financial debate, I asked Lotte to
get me a file that we had prepared. She smirked as she handed it
to me.

"Excuse me, Herr Kappelman," I addressed the NH CEO directly. "Do
you happen to know off hand how much of your sales are to Silicon
Semiconductor?"

He looked flustered and whispered a comment to one of his
assistants. While he was waiting for some papers to be produced,
I interrupted him. "Forty-one percent. That's right. Forty-one
percent. What is going to happen to your gross revenues, not to
mention your net, if you no longer have those sales?"

I didn't wait for him to answer. "Your projected earnings of 5.36
marks per share, will translate into a loss of 1.71 marks per
share. How many shareholders are going to be happy with that?"

"We have contracts with Silicon Semiconductor. They cannot be
discarded so easily," he replied smugly until one of his lawyers
mentioned something to him.

"If you'll recall, in the preliminary merger agreement, you
agreed that should the deal be dissolved by Silicon Semi, they'd
be liable for a $25 million payment to you. And if you backed out
of the agreement, all existing contracts between the two
companies will be null and void. Do I have to elaborate?"

Kappelman and some of his staff walked over to the large picture
window which comprised most of the south wall. They discussed
things heatedly, but after a few short minutes, he led the rest
of his staff to the table. His expression was sullen, and I knew
we'd won.

"Very well, Herr Lucas. Give me the papers to sign. I can
guarantee that the board of directors will approve."

I smiled slightly, not wanting to gloat -- well, at least gloat
obviously -- and walked over to shake hands with Kappelman. "Herr
Kappelman, I must take my leave right now. Herr Krauss, Fraulein
Schmidt and the rest of my staff will finish with the signings.
It was a pleasure to me you." Sure it was, I thought. For me.
Fucking guy tried to play hardball and went down on three
pitches. I was ecstatic.

Twenty minutes later, Lotte walked into her office, surprised to
see me sitting at her desk.

"Jake. I thought you were leaving?"

"I wanted to see you again. I was pumped after the meeting."

"You were very impressive. They really had no chance."

"Well, that's what happens when you're prepared," I demurred and
continued. "Any plans for this the rest of this week, doll?"

She sighed. "Well, I can't get any time off. And I'm sure that
Krauss will not be happy with things and will take them out on
me. He's such a petty man."

"You don't have to worry about Krauss anymore. And you have some
time off," I said flatly, gauging her reaction.

"Warum?  Why?"

"While the rest of you were concluding the negotiations, I called
Reynolds in New York. For your work on this project, you'll be
getting two weeks off with pay and will receive a promotion to
account executive in either Frankfurt or Munich...your choice."

"Jake, really? You're not pulling my foot are you?"

I furrowed my brow before I realized what she meant. "You mean:
pulling my leg. And no, I'm not. Your work here was excellent.
You deserve it. So if you want a promotion, you have your pick of
offices. I guess it all depends on whether or not you want to
move."

She ran over and jumped in my lap, hugging me tightly and
lavishing me with kisses. "Oh Jake, this is wonderful. I have no
ties to Berlin. I moved here when I was hired out of University.
Most of my family lives in Starnberg, near Munich, so that office
would be perfect for me. How can I ever repay you?"

"Well, I'm heading to Italy for a few days at a villa near
Florence. Care to join me, doll?"

"I'd love to." She flopped down on my lap and wrapped her arms
around my head, bringing her head down to join me in a deep kiss.


But that's a story for another day.


END




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Positive or negative, I'll try to respond to everyone (except obnoxious flames).

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My e-mail address is John3365a@aol.com.


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