After I had killed the lieutenant, it wasn't long before there was an investigation. My alibi stuck like solid granite. With several witnesses and even video evidence that I was elsewhere, the investigators were quick to rule me out as a suspect.
I got to play the wailing victim who lost his gay lover. One of the younger investigators, who I could tell was another one of those newbies from intel, bought it big time. I could tell from the looks he gave me that he was intrigued, even captivated, by my poor woeful circumstance.
I even made it a point to break out in tears and hug him in my "grief". I could tell from his response (or lack thereof) that he was interested in "comforting" me. I pulled up the bottom of my shirt to dry my teary eyes and his glance went immediately to my washboard abs. Yep, he was indeed interested.
I was put up in a hotel room, as the apartment was now a crime scene. When the chief detective had asked for someone to drive me there, I glanced over at the handsome young investigator and he was quick to volunteer.
I invited him in and he agreed. He stayed with me most of the night. (He did have to return to the office for debriefing, but was very quick to return. I guess, he didn't want to leave me alone in my "sorrows".)
The night was hot and lustful. The aphrodisiacs I slipped him went entirely unnoticed and made him even more passionate. I could tell he had been holding himself back from relationships like most rookies. This only makes them want it more when the opportunity arises.
After several hours of love-making (plus a few tranquilizers), he was out-cold asleep in my bed. I grabbed his car keys and went out to his car. Sure enough, his computer was hidden in a secret compartment. (You CIA operatives are so predictable.)
I brought it in and began scrolling through the files. Jackpot. He had some clearances that gave me all their information on members of my team. The fools had tracked me to up to 5 months ago. (Looks like I was way ahead of them.)
I quickly downloaded all of the intel, plus even got the identities of some of their undercover agents. I returned the computer to the car. It was almost time for him to wake up. He had to be at work in an hour.
I started a fresh pot of coffee. The aroma filled the hotel room, waking him from his slumber. He pulled on his underwear and came to the table. It seems he was told he could come in later today. Looks like we were going to have some time together.
We sat and talked for awhile. He knew from my interviews yesterday, that I had taken the exams to get into the CIA but didn't pass them. We talked about the recruit training and testing program. It seems we had a few experiences in common.
I asked him if working for the CIA was all it was made out to be. He said it wasn't. He began complaining about his superiors and the bureaucracy. I gave him some advice, as my record indicated that my father was a high-level operative.
The young man told me how difficult it was to get his superiors to accept his analysis. He had tried to convince them that my boyfriend's death was a KGB hit, but they were all so convinced it was merely a burglary. (Well, this was informative indeed.)
He explained how the kill was in the typical spot for KGB training, especially from some sicko agent named "#####" (sorry, I'm not foolish enough to give my identity up here.) He said the only difference was the knife that was used. He said that it was usually a special-issued blade that the assassins received.
I told him that I knew exactly what he was talking about. I got a blade out of my suitcase. One that my "father" had given me. He young officer was very intrigued. I let him hold it and examine the craftsmanship of it. He even tickled his bellybutton with the tip. (It seems this may have been some sort of fetish for him.)
When he handed it back to me, I thrust it straight into his gut. I covered his screams with a passionate kiss. His eyes were wide and his muscles quivered from the shock of the blade tearing into his guts. I placed my hand on his chest and could feel his heart pounding.
I leaned to his ear and whispered. "I bet that was the best orgasm you ever had. I'll let you keep that blade as a souvenir." I backed away and he stared up at me. He had felt a huge rush down in his groin and it hadn't registered to him what it was.
He placed one hand in his underwear and felt the warm fluid pulsating from him. I stood there, watching, waiting. His gut muscles began spasming from the pain that he was trying to hold in. He doubled over, coughed a few times and collapsed on the floor.
Looks like I had some work to do. Get another phone, call a cleanup team and find me another intel officer.
Oh yeah! Hot stuff!
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