Updated: Jan 5
John Martin woke up slowly. His head was heavy and his mouth tasted like shit! He opened his eyes and reached for Maria but his hands found just a fluffy pink pillow where he had expected her body to be. She was not there. He looked in the room. His clothes were stacked neatly on a chair and half of a full bottle of champagne was waiting on the dining table in the ice cannister with a sleek glass beside it. I guess she cleaned up the place, he murmured to himself. He went naked to the bathroom and looked at himself in the big heart shaped mirror that dominated the far side wall. His dick was a bit red and sore. Not surprised, he thought. I put him to good work! His ass hurt too. He was perplexed for a while. What the.. Then he remembered. She had used the butt of his whip to drill his prostate. He laughed out loud. It sounded like a horse that had gone dry too long and the large acoustics in the bathroom amplified it. Damn, that girl knew how to party! He entered the big bathroom, opened the shower and let the warm water engulf him. It felt good and his body was relaxed. He then took out his complete bath & body kit from Hugo Boss and trimmed his beard and styled his long white hair backwards. The cologne was dark and musky. The hair on his chest still had some color of brown left. He looked all right. His abdomen was still flat as a surfboard and the sun had given him a slight tan.
After dressing, he went through the messages on his phone. One was from Maria.
Hey John. Thanks for a great time. I helped myself with some food and drink before I left. I have some shit to do before tonight but I will be back at the hotel at eleven. The party is on the rooftop with invite only. Will call you before. The sex was fab, she wrote.
He drank a chilled glass of the champagne and lit a lucky strike. It was only six o'clock.
John decided to get dinner in town. He checked the rest of his messages.
James Donner had sent an email. You in town? Dinner & drinks then. Will meet you at Jansz tonight. Google the address. Will be there at seven!
Strange to hear from Donner. They were not the best of pal's, so something must be up, he thought.
So he googled. Good menu. Reestrat 8. He responded to Donner. See you at seven. He then ordered a taxi through the hotel service.
He left the cross bone hat in the hotel room this time. He was dressed in a brown suit from Hugo Boss and now wore alligator boots from Costa Shoes. His white shirt was designed by John Malkovich. The watch on his left arm was a De Ville in gold. No tie, just a white handkerchief in the left pocket of his suit. He entered the elevator and pressed the lobby button. No music playing this time. His mind was clear and more or less sober.. He was surfing on his phone when a tall blond woman entered the elevator at the second floor and then walked away fast towards to exit. He found the hotel bar and ordered a Vodka twister with lime. The bar was already lively and two Asian guys were talking loudly at the end of the bar and a sharp looking couple was seated at one of the tables and drinking beer. The guy had big ears he noticed.
He could not see the woman's face.. Neo Soul was playing through the speakers and John liked the music, The bartender was finished mixing the drink and he swiped his card. He felt good. This hotel was all right. The smoking lounge veranda was a nice touch and he went there while tasting the drink. Not bad for a yuppie bartender, the world was improving. Some other young girls were also there. chatting away in Dutch. He ignored them and smoked fast. Then he downed the drink and went outside and was serviced by a hotel clerk to the waiting taxi. He arrived at seven sharp at Jansz. He liked the place. It could have been in Paris. The interior was basic with many small brown tables and black chairs. The custom norm to fit more people into the place. Clean lines and dark green walls. A waiter showed him to the table where James Donner was waiting with a cold smile on his rounded face. He was clean shaven and wearing a black double breasted suit from some obscure brand that was not known to John, or it was custom made perhaps. Did not look like it. Donner was a plump guy in his sixties with no hair left on his head. He looks more like a skinned pig every time i see him thought John. His tie was horrible. The fabric looked like shitty x-mas wall paper on acid in the 70's. However, the eyes of the man were cynical and warm at the same time. Yes a paradox indeed. He had small hands but plenty of power. He was a relic from the cold war. A CIA man. John was not sure what his title was these days and he did not care. Donner was pulling international strings as always. The scheming little cunt. They had become acquainted more then twenty years back when John had met his daughter Julia in Rio De Janeiro at a beach party. It had been a week of passion in Brazil. What John did not know then was that Donner had his daughter followed. Donner had made it clear to him that this fling had to end. John had responded by fucking Julia even more. This resulted in his assets being frozen. So he had backed off. He had met Donner from time to time through business and slowly a dialogue had started to emerge. He was a bastard but a useful bastard, thought John as he now sat down with Donner and a waiter presented the menu, They both agreed on oysters as a starter accompanied by a light Riesling. After the starter was consumed and they both had a cigarette, John decided to go for the Hanger Steak while Donner chose the Salmon. John then proceeded to choose an elegant Gary Farrel Pino from 2015. Donner went with a boring French Chablis. They both spoke very little while eating and concentrated on their individual foods. Finally both men sunk back in the chair and relaxed. A bottle of Armagnac was ordered. A Delord Bas, that John had not had in a while. A heavy blend of different Armagnac's aged 30 years or more had all gone into this peculiar brandy. Donner tried the drink. Damn, that is one strong son of a bitch. I know answered John and smiled. Donner had another sip and then looked him straight in the eyes. You my friend are careless. What the fuck do you mean? John looked at him with a small smile on his cruel lips. Donner did not smile. Ok let's get to it. I have a reason to believe you are in a bit of danger my friend. John snapped to attention. Yes we have had you followed. No shit! John was getting interested. What was the fat pig saying? Better pay attention, he thought. Did you notice that Gerald Evens was abducted a month ago? Yes, when you mention it.. He had noticed. The car mogul Evens had been out jogging close to his house in Devon when he had been grabbed at gunpoint and thrown into a moving van. No ransom had been admitted and Evens was still missing. So you think the same people might be after me? I know they are, answered Donner in a dry the matter of fact manner. John looked at him and then had another glass of the Armagnac. What do you think I should do? I think you should get your ass home and hire security, said Donner. John swirled the glass and let it all sink in. I got to go soon said Donner.
We will keep an eye on you while you are here but when you get back to Norway, get security. Well thank you for the warning. Donner nodded curtly then proceeded to pay his part of the bill and then left. John leaned back and let his mind work on the new information. He has to beef up security when the he gets back home. Donner might be a piggy prick but he was not a fool. John stored the new info in the back of his mind, Fuck it, The Party was still on.
He looked at his watch. It was 22.15. He then went outside to have a cigarette and became friendly with another couple that was also chasing the nicotine dragon. They joined John's table and the conversation was interesting. The Layton's lived in London. They ran a small software company and had recognized John. Edvard Layton was a pale nerdy looking guy in his thirty's with steel big rimmed glasses and dressed in a casual manner. He had big ears. His wife was a brunette. She wore a red dress that seemed to be made of lace and her arms were long and kind of hairy. She was also taller then most girls. Her tan was fresh and her eyes nutty brown. She soon steered the conversation towards Bitcoin. As both parties got more drunk from the brandy, they talked louder. Mrs., Layton was sloppy and managed to knock over a bottle of wine and made a mess. The brazen couple was then asked to leave the restaurant. John watched them leave and then had a beer. Strange people. It almost looked like she had knocked over the bottle on purpose. It was something about them as he pondered their faces. He had seen them somewhere before but he could not place it. He looked at his watch. It was almost twenty past eleven. Still no word from Maria, Fuck it. He decided to go back to the hotel and find this party. He ordered the bill and got the waiter to call a taxi. The couple were still outside, he noticed. They seemed to argue about something, Marriage, he thought, was a trap. He turned his attention to his phone and surfed the web until his taxi had arrived. The couple were gone when he stepped out from the restaurant. Seconds later he was on his way to the hotel.