Tanya sat at the hotel bar, eyeing her client. This was going to be a good job. She got to do what she could best, and payment was much better than what she had gotten while working for that special task force. Most of all, the people looked much more stylish. Uniforms only got you so far. Sometimes she wore a long evening dress which clung to her trained body like a snake's skin. Today, she had decided on plain dark blue jeans, combat boots and a golden top with a revealing neckline. She knew the colors complimented her tan and her hazel green eyes.
Now she sent her chestnut hair flying over her shoulder, where it came to lie brushing the black leather of her biker's jacket. She had removed everything from her clothes which might blink when catching stray rays of light, including the fancy buckles that came with the shoes, and the Honda CBR600RR waiting outside was a custom job, all matted black. Tanya liked to travel invisible. It made doing her job so much easier.
The client seemed nervous. They had exchanged fancy fantasy names, and now he adressed her, "Miss Delila, could you... uhm, I mean, could you tell me a bit more about your expertise?" His round face sweated and turned bright red, like a fire extinguisher. Tanya knew this kind of guy. Rich, well-educated, they made it a big secret when hiring her services, and felt guilty all the time. Well, if they preferred to do so... after all, it was a jungle out there, and if you wanted to survive, you had to eat whatever didn't eat you first.
"You will understand, Mr. Smith", how very imaginative, "that I can't go into great detail. But let me assure you, I was trained by the best. We operated in Iraq and Afghanistan, with a special unit aiming to bring in the most wanted officials, terrorists and taliban. My body count is almost 100%."
He raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"
Tanya continued, ignoring his objection, "Another of my fields of expertise is - getting answers. Do you expect me to give more detail or will you trust me and be satisfied with the results?"
"One more question, if I may."
"Why did you go freelance?"
"The money's better, and I only travel if I want to." She sipped her Golden Cadillac, her eyes never leaving his face. This was the moment where they made up your mind.
"Did you say, half now and half after the job is finished?"
"Exactly", she purred, "and feel free to add a bonus if you consider it deserved. Would you like to go upstairs to discuss the details?"
They rode the elevator in silence, up to the top floor. Tanya's eyes took in every detail. The expensive camel-colored carpets, which silenced their steps. Live plants, behind which it was easy to hide. Anonymous-looking doors, each leading to a suite the size of an upper-class downtown apartment. She followed her client to his door, always a step behind him. She knew this made him nervous, but she felt he deserved a tiny taste of what he had bought himself into.
The door opened, and she nodded her approval. The best taste money could buy. Much different from the holes in which she had done her job - electric shocks, threats, infamous waterboarding. She knew more than a dozen ways of killing a person with nothing but the harmless things in this room. Slowly, she took of her leather jacket.
"Now, would you like to start?" Her voice changed, from sweet and cultivated to quiet and threatening. "On your knees, now!"
Without further question, the guy dropped to his knees.
Tanya circled him, like a shark playing with its prey. "I know you have been a very bad boy."
"Yes." He licked his lips.
"Yes, Mistress." His voice was but a whisper. This one was going to be fun.