The Layered World Pt. 01

It worked and she felt him spurting strongly deep inside. They fell over on their sides, tongues playing. He smiled and said, "I know, you are going to tell me this is better than the gym."

She laughed and hissed, "Yes, yes, yes."

The shower cleaned them and washed the moment away. He said, "See if I can still catch the morning plane to London."

He couldn't, even with his usual expedited security check. She put the phone on hold and asked, "This afternoon or this evening?"

"Evening. I'll revise my original schedule. Have Sam arrange the regular pickup."

She fixed him breakfast and brought it to the computer. He was keying through the headlines, which were mostly speculation as to which terrorist group had been responsible this time. She watched as he linked to the secure mail and opened the most recent note from Sam.

"Our regular source says midair disintegration. Can't tell whether suicide bomb or planted explosive. Sybil preparing report on exposure. More later. Are you coming here?"

He turned to Natalie, "Call her now and make it sound like standard travel arrangement. Ask for staff meeting day after tomorrow."

He scanned through the other messages and closed out. She was in the kitchen, still in her underwear, talking to Sam. He poured another small cup of coffee and gazed at her tall slender figure. Natalie had been a college athlete and was the best runner of them all. They kidded her and teased about the small tits. She turned and saw him standing there, eyes on her front. A hand quickly went behind her and the bra dropped to the floor. She rubbed what she had and pulled on her nipples, enticing him.

"Yes, he told me this morning he was keeping his purple days this week, but that may be off with these other developments. Ok, talk to you soon. I have to rebuild his schedule for today."

In low tones, almost a growl, he said, "After all this time, you are still defensive about those."

She stared at him with a faint smile and the fingers of one hand still busy.

He continued, "None of them can touch you in open country. You always win the running event. Isn't that enough?"

She walked slowly toward him, stopping three feet away, hands now at her sides. The nipples were very prominent, pink and stiff and extended. "It's a reflex from college days, when the frat guys who controlled the parties didn't look at flat chested girls."

He flicked his eyes to hers and then back to her chest. He saw the slight involuntary jerk and wondered if she had come.

"You are a great boss, but an evil man, attacking me with your eyes. I can feel you from here."

He picked her up and wandered to the living room sofa, scene of prior conquests. He sat down and leaned back, her head on his shoulder. His mouth found one of the suckable nipples and went to work. She stuffed his hand between her legs and pressed down.

Out of the blue, he asked, "Was it a good idea to recruit the four of you for your brains and only discover the sex later?"

She laughed and kissed him all over his face. "Guys keep trying to legislate sex out of the workplace! There is serious biology at work between the sexes, Jay, and it isn't going away soon."

He was feeling manipulated and enjoying it. This latest incident could be a precursor to the big one they were expecting. He needed to get to his friends at the Brit security agency and have a sit down. Best not to think about it now. He had no resources in the crash investigation.

She snuggled into him and said, "This is very unusual treatment, lounging with me. You don't need those meetings for any particular reason."

His fingertips worried her breast. She twitched. "That does things to a girl."

"Sorry. Just thinking. About what you said." He closed his eyes, but left the hand covering her small boob.

"I'm not complaining. I can't remember you ever just holding me and being soft, not jumping up and dashing off somewhere."

"You must have put something in my coffee. Was it valium?"

"That's not even funny. Besides, guys on valium can't get it up. Why would I do that?"

"Sorry. You're right. Not funny."

She turned over and lay on him, front down. "The doctor orders ten minutes of silent meditation."

Ten minutes later, she was quietly there, feeling his heart squish under her. "It's working," she thought.

She underrated his enormous brain capacity and energy. "Don't move," he said in her ear. "Just listen."

"There are some things I haven't warned you and the others about. Not lack of confidence, but not wanting you to worry unnecessarily. I have a feeling this time may be different. After you have got rid of me, sit down and compose a plan for moving everything in New York to a place upstate. Far upstate. Don't worry about where, we'll get to that. But think about how to make us disappear without anyone noticing. That's the hard part."

She didn't move, but was stiff as a board. And not happy that she was lying on her boss almost naked when he was talking about disaster plans.

Chapter 3 - Bruce and Ellie

By the time Joshua was thirteen, Jack's lab in the new institute was running smoothly. There had been the budget overruns typical of all medical projects, but each time he apologetically mentioned money to his son, the checkbook was produced. An arrangement with NYU medical facilities in White Plains was valued by the university because Jack funded a half dozen post doc's every year. A flow of papers on cell biology had commenced and there was good word of mouth, which is what Jack wanted. Joshua's funding made it possible for him to concentrate on research with his team without being constantly distracted to raise money, as was the case with so many other faculty research projects.

Joshua had co-opted Martha into the move by asking her to find a suitable home for the family, with a preference for being near the water. Even after all this time, his mother seemed surprised when Joshua made a suggestion. But she had learned that Joshua's ideas were always brilliant. After a week of digging through listings, an agent and Martha had found a marvelous house on a hill in Rye not far from the Sound and a conservation marsh. She hadn't understood why Joshua held up the escrow until some engineers reviewed the site, but learned later that the house was going to be her son's business headquarters as well as their home, and expensive trenching and laying of cables was necessary.


Peggy was very grown up, with a maturing body that got attention from boys. She and Joshua had researched the school options and found a girl's school that emphasized academics. She was happy there and thinking about going to Brown.

Bruce, the nervous broker, was now working for Joshua. The primary reason for this was that his girlfriend, Dorothea, who had become his wife, was a skilled trader in her own right. She was Greek by descent and had relatives scattered everywhere. She and they had a nicely conspiratorial view of the world that matched Joshua's. She was dark, beautiful and worked hard at the gym to keep herself trim. Once a week, she and Bruce came to Rye for a conference and she flirted shamelessly with her teenage boss.

He said to her privately one day that, once he was eighteen, he would not restrain himself. She grabbed his head and applied a ferocious kiss. "That can't come too soon, Jay. You've made Bruce and me wealthy and I won't forget." He smiled, pinched her muscular bottom, and bought them a penthouse condo on the upper East Side. This gave him a reason to visit Manhattan and he loved the game of New York public transit. Soon, he could recite pages of train and subway schedules.

The three of them transformed the penthouse into a global trading center, with numerous high speed Internet circuits and their own servers. Jay paid off the building super to look the other way about electrical work that would never get by the condo committee, even including a backup generator in the subbasement.

All of this drove poor Bruce nearly to the edge, until one day Joshua took him to lunch without Ellie, which was the nickname his wife preferred. Jay was seventeen and finally grown to adult size and voice. The blue eyes and tangled light brown hair were appealing to women and he got many looks.

"You and I need an understanding," he said to Bruce as they munched on salads. "Ellie and I are better at investments than you are, but you have skills in keeping things straight and asking good questions. As the book says, play to your strengths and the rest will take care of itself."

Bruce took another bite and was silent for a minute. "Jay, you are the best boss anyone could ask for. But every morning, I come to work scared about your latest idea. You think nothing of putting half your wealth on the table in a wild bet. I can't tell you the number of times I've almost fainted waiting for the fallout from a giant trade."

Joshua stared him in the face and asked, "Do you want kids? A move to the suburbs?"

"Yes. I think so. When I ask, Ellie says she isn't ready."

"Your wife is very helpful to me."

Bruce's eyes blinked and looked away.

"Bruce, look at me. I'm not having sex with Ellie unless you agree. She's hot and has a wandering eye. You knew that when you married her. She has helped make a lot of money for me, a fraction of which is sitting in her own account. Are you worried you will lose her?"

The husband's hands shook and he nodded.

"I don't break marriages. I'm going to do two things. First, I will put five million in an educational trust for your kids, with the two of you as co-trustees as long as you are married. In the event of a divorce, the father will be sole trustee. Second, I will tell her she must be pregnant with your child within twelve months or leave my employ."

In public, in a restaurant, Bruce's head lay in his hands.

Afterwards, as Joshua watched a rejuvenated husband take charge of his woman and his marriage, he marveled at the gutsy risk he took in laying bare a man's masculinity. He resolved, for his part, that sexy Ellie was never going to feel his cock.

Chapter 4 - London

The overnight was on time and Hugh Ramsey was waiting. He was ex-SAS and owned a small company that specialized in secure transport, among other assignments. Hugh had been driving Jay for a half dozen years, entirely without incident. He also was a body trainer and personal confidant on security.

"Good morning, Jay. Where are we headed today?"

"Hello, Hugh. It's good to see you at the wheel. There has been another plane crash and my firm might be affected. Perhaps we could find a new route to the office in the City."

He called Sybil. "I should be at your office in less than an hour. You will organize an agenda?"

She answered in French, "Oui," and went on to chastise him for doubting her. During the great audition, she was finishing a master's in finance at NYU, but held dual French and US citizenship as a result of her mother being a Parisian. At the time of her birth, in New York, her father was a diplomat at the UN, and her mother was a well known model who had worked in many capital cities. The parents were ambitious and conspired for the birth to happen in the US, thus obtaining American citizenship for their baby. Sybil had been schooled in Paris, London and New York. Of all the women, Jay thought she might depart first, taking her prodigious talent elsewhere. But her current loyalty was admirable. The investment and insurance firm he had purchased for her to run was enormously profitable, which automatically created the accident exposure they were about to discuss.

She reverted to cultured British English and advised him that there was an optional reception that evening, followed by a meeting with Samantha and herself. Left unsaid was where he would spend the night. Belatedly, he realized he hadn't been here in nearly a month, and they would be cock hungry. Perhaps a bauble or two was necessary to take the edge off.

"Hugh, do you think we could divert briefly to that jewelry place in Mayfair?"

"Certainly sir, are you in trouble with the ladies again?"

"When my schedule keeps me away too long, the two of them have ways of putting me straight about my responsibilities."

They both laughed, as men do about their love interests, and Hugh took him the back way to Alexander's.

Milton, the owner of the very pricey jewelry shop, was in the store and greeted him by name, "Mr. Manco, it's good to see you, sir."

They shook hands warmly, "Milton, stop that Mister stuff. How much business do I have to give you to be called Jay?"

Milton chuckled and said, "Jay, you are far past that point. What may I do for you this morning?"

"Show me what the young men are giving their young women this season in the way of a sign of their affection. Something lighthearted."

Milton led him past the cases full of gaudy pieces intended for 'money no object' foreign tourists, and into a quiet alcove. There were several trays of worked metal rings, brooches, and bracelets. Most of them had colorful stones, sometimes in an animal motif.

He studied carefully. Sybil would be pleased by one on the elegant side. Samantha, when she relaxed, which was seldom, would appreciate something playful. He wondered if he dared buy her one of those ankle things. Some girls wore them as a sign of being owned. He shook his head. Wouldn't work with his PA's. Not work at all.

He chose two and an assistant took them to be gift wrapped. Milton made a few notes and said with a smile, "The stones are genuine, set in platinum. For today only, I am letting them go to my good friend Jay for eight thousand pounds."

Jay reached for a blank check on an account only he had access to, and quickly wrote it out for more than the invoice amount. It was drawn on a merchant bank in Amsterdam, with a totally fictitious corporate name on it.

As he handed it over, Jay said, "If your bank gives you any trouble about this, call Sam and she will put it right." Milton glanced down, noted the extra amount and said, "Thank you very much." He hesitated, "A family member is in the trade in Amsterdam if you ever think of placing some wealth in gems, sir."

They exchanged looks and Jay said quietly, "Thank you, Milton, that might come in handy one of these days."

The entire diversion was less than half an hour and he was only a few minutes late when he exited the private elevator on the tenth floor, all of which was occupied by Offshore Investments, Ltd., the firm Sybil managed for him. His office was small and nondescript, adjacent to her impressive corner domain. The corridor door had no sign of a keylock, but opened silently with his proximity card.

He activated the electronic mirror and saw that she was alone. A panel slid back at his touch and he walked to her side with a kiss. She turned to him and said, "More, please, I was beginning to worry. It is easy to be paranoid today."

Their arms went around each other and the second kiss lasted. He stepped back and said, "Yes, today is paranoia day with a capital P."

She pointed to folders on her table and said, "That is the latest information we have."

As he sat, she asked, "What can I bring you?" He looked at her, "My stomach doesn't like those redeyes. Would it be too much trouble to fix soft boiled eggs and some wheat toast? Tea with cream."

His eyes followed her to the phone. Five ten in her heels. Trim. Pink cashmere sweater, with navy wool skirt and jacket over. Stockings in a natural shade and a simple necklace of pearls. She wished to be businesslike with her own people and with clients. Her clothing did not send messages, but the wide set hazel eyes were probing and her signature look was a faint smile. Offshore had a billion dollars of its own funds under management, and many billions more from clients, some of whom were well known, but many not well known at all and did not wish to be.

He scanned the sheets in the folder. Not much that he hadn't heard already about the crash. With a midair explosion, there would be pieces everywhere, and perhaps the black boxes would not be found.

"Do we know for sure Claude was on the plane?" he said over his shoulder.

She finished the food order and said, "Not sure. But this was not one of his disguise trips, and the passenger list has his name."

Claude Abramowich was a dealer in arms. The insurance entity within Offshore had provided risk insurance for his firm for a dozen years, since before Jay acquired it. A quick search on the Internet would paint a profile of a successful businessman in a sometimes disreputable business. One whose customers reached around the globe and required frequent travel.

What would not be found on the Internet, because a great deal of time and money was spent to obscure it, were Claude's connections to British intelligence. Jay stared at the papers and assumed that someone over at MI6 was busy trying to connect dots and determine if the crash was a successful assassination of a valued agent. The way these layered, compartmented endeavors worked, the assassination could be buried inside another, more obvious radical agenda that called for the plane to come down.

"Who have you been talking to at Global?"

"I called his number two first thing. Name is Alphonse Malraux. Very guarded on the phone. Wouldn't comment on whether Claude was on the plane. I told him there was coverage on Claude, and that some of our reinsurance clients would undoubtedly be involved as well. He wanted to know how to reach you. I said you would be in touch, but did not tell him your travel plans."

"Good. We are not ready to talk to him yet, are we?"

She shook her head and went to the door for the food. The eggs were delicious and done perfectly. He forced himself to eat slowly.

She ran her fingers across his neck and asked, quietly, "Do you remember that morning last fall? I was needy and you pounded me madly into the bed. I lay back, quivering from a fantastic orgasm. You were catching your breath, but I could see something in your eyes. After the shower, while I was dressing, you said, out of completely nowhere, that you were worried about Claude and Global and would I please reserve additional amounts against our exposure."

She turned his head to look at her, "Am I supposed to know something I don't?"

He took her hand to his lips and kissed it, shaking his head. "Nothing from the intelligence people. There was a small article in FT, saying that some of the Islamist radicals were using blackmail and hijacking to avoid paying for weapons. Quoted someone that arms business was getting more dangerous."

He hated lying to her, but sometimes...

She nodded and said, "Jennifer is about if you wish to talk about exposure."

"Yes, please."

Sybil pressed a button on her cell and said, "Do you have a moment?"

Jay asked, "How is she doing?"

She smiled and said, "As happy as a hog in a pit. Her classmates are green with envy."

Jennifer arrived with a bundle of papers under her arm and a hot kiss for Jay. "Oh my gosh, I was so worried when I heard about the crash. And I didn't even know you were flying here. Poor Sis was beside herself."

She was about to rattle on when Sybil's eyes darkened. "Sorry, running off again. I can give you a quick rundown if you wish."

He stared at her, "No, I want the four hour version, down to the last crossfoot."

Her head jerked up, filled with worry until she noticed his smile. Then her body was in motion, running around behind him and bestowing kisses everywhere. "Oh, you are so bad. Why couldn't you be my age, so you could be my boyfriend instead of my awful sister's!"

He pulled her into his lap, stuffed his tongue in her mouth, and fondled a plump boob. She did a marvelous swoon, "Oh, oh, oh."

He stood her back on her feet and said, "Didn't we have a conversation about all the guys out there lusting for you?"