The Watercress File: Being the Further Adventures of That Man from C. A. M. P. by V. J. Banis Page A

side door that Jackie had described, and as he had assured her, it was unlocked. She slipped inside and moved lightly down the hall, following his directions. A turn, then another, and she was approaching the rear door, the one at which she should find the waiting limousine.
    It was there, just as planned. She groaned inwardly as she saw the driver—one of those shifty, greasy types that she didn’t really go for. Oh well, she thought philosophically, with his pants down that wouldn’t matter—anyway, she was being patriotic. That was the one thing she liked about this kind of work. You got to carry on a lot, and no one could say you were being immoral—it was your duty, after all.
    She approached the open window on the driver’s side of the car. He looked up and leered as she approached, swinging her wide hips seductively. Her breasts bounced and jiggled freely within the loose confines of the dress.
    â€œGot a match?” she asked, leaning against the side of the car. Her breasts swayed in the window opening, practically grazing his nose. His eyes were as wide as saucers.
    â€œSure,” he managed to sputter, gulping loudly. She half expected him to lean out and bite one of the nipples just to see if they were real.
    â€œLonesome?” she asked when he had lit the cigarette for her with trembling hands.
    â€œI’m waiting for some people,” he said in a voice that told her he wasn’t going to put up much resistance. With that face, she thought to herself, he probably didn’t get too many propositions.
    â€œDoesn’t look like they’re here yet. As long as you’re just killing time, wouldn’t you rather kill it together?”
    He was having a real battle with himself, she could see that. His thighs were yelling for him to take her up on the offer; his fear of whoever he worked for was telling him to stay where he was.
    â€œLook,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes. “We could pull just over there.” She pointed to the other end of the dark parking lot, opposite the place where Nasturtia was parked. “We can see your friends when they come out, all right?”
    â€œAll right,” he finally agreed, his head bobbing. Mari came around the car and slid inside, moving all the way across the seat to press against him. He was scarcely able to start up the car and pull into the parking lot.
    When they were parked, Mari saw to it that he was turned away from the theater’s exit. She didn’t want him to see what was going on there. That meant, of course, keeping him occupied. She kissed him hotly, rubbing her big breasts against his chest. One shaking hand slipped nervously under her skirt. She pushed her legs apart boldly, inviting him to explore, and dropped her own hand to his legs.
    What she found was a pleasant surprise—this wasn’t going to be such a disappointing bit after all. She was only sorry she didn’t have a sack to put over his head, in which case it could be a really glorious occasion. As it was, however, she was busy watching the back window. She saw Aunt Nasturtia pull up to the door, and a few minutes later the phony performers had trouped out of the theater and were in the car. Mari smiled with relief as she saw Aunt Nasturtia drive away with her guests.
    Work was over, now she could concentrate on playing. Her companion had been trying hard to get her arranged on the seat. She helped him accomplish the feat now, closing her eyes. He wasn’t much to look at, but he was wonderful to feel—and she was feeling plenty.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    â€œW hat’s happening?” The voice, Jackie guessed in the darkness, belonged to one of the acrobats.
    â€œTo put it very simply, we’re being kidnapped.” Jackie slammed his fist into the palm of his other hand as the truck started up, moving slowly at first as they went down the alley, and then gathering speed as they apparently reached the