Pretenses Chapter 10

Bio



Ann Coulter



Jada Pinkett-Smith



Wicked Wisdom



Phillip Thomas Duck



Alisha Yvonne



Laura Schlessinger



Dr. Frederick K.C. Price



James Patterson



Eric Jerome Dickey



Jackie Collins



L.A. Banks



Brandon Massey



Kendra Norman-Bellamy



Pretenses Cover
COCO NIMBURU of the notorious Nimburu clan had been conditioned and trained in the ninja fighting arts since she was five years old. The Nimburu clan had existed for five-hundred years. They were only one of a few sects that survived the 1581 ninja slaughter in feudal Japan. In those days, the Nimburus were so vicious that when it was known that a Nimburu was assigned to kill a particular person, the victim often killed himself to avoid the savage death that awaited him.

Coco was a master of disguise and could speak many languages and dialects, including French, Russian, German, Vietnamese, Arabic, English, Mandarin, Cantonese, and Japanese. Her unique talent with languages enabled her to travel the world, carrying out assassinations for whomever could afford to pay the hefty sum her special skills commanded. On this assignment, she had booked two rooms on different floors at the Capitol Hill Hyatt Regency.

She finished practicing her deadly art and her stretching routine, showered, and turned on the television. She watched the FOX News channel to find out what the police were saying about the Taylor murders. Law enforcement officials could always be counted on to tip their hands about an investigation.

President Davidson was shown standing behind a lectern that had the presidential seal on it. A barrage of lights flashed as he spoke. Coco turned up the sound to hear what he was saying. Davidson did not attempt to appear presidential. His anger gushed forth when he opened his mouth.

"No assassination, no intimidation, and no organization of any kind will discourage this White House from naming a nominee of my choosing to a seat on the Supreme Court!" Davidson said abruptly. "We are determined, I say we are determined, to apprehend everybody involved in the murder of Jennifer and Webster Taylor! There is no place you can run, no place you can hide. We will find you, whoever you are, and bring you to justice!" He paused and glanced at the press. "Your questions will be answered by one of the FBI's best and brightest, Special Agent Phoenix Perry."

The name triggered something in Coco's memory. Grabbing her laptop, she pulled up the hit list file and scanned it for the name she had just heard. There it was. Sydney Drew of Drew Perry Investigative Firm. Coco wondered if it could be a coincidence. If it wasn't, she might have to kill an FBI agent. In her line of work, innocent people were often killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The last thing she wanted was to murder an FBI agent, but if it was necessary, so be it. She pointed the remote control at the television and pushed the power button.

Coco decided to get into her disguise. She would be meeting NSA Director Clayton Pockets downstairs in the lounge in about an hour. He had a thing for blondes, so she would become one for him. Seduction was always a good weapon when used by a skilled practitioner. Coco had used her charms on men and women alike; both were extremely susceptible if the seduction was alluring enough, and Coco Nimburu was.

Dressed in her disguise, she entered the lounge. The dim lighting would hide what she looked like when the FBI asked for a description, and Coco didn't want that. She wanted to be seen.

Clayton Pockets smelled her intoxicating perfume before he actually saw her. She reminded him of the character that Drea De Matteo had brought to life on HBO's The Sopranos. Wearing a skintight white tennis outfit, sneakers, hoop earrings, and a bright smile, she said loudly with a New York accent, "You must be Director Pockets. Here," she handed him the blackmail money he was owed, "this is for you." She cracked the gum she was chewing a few times before turning to walk away.

"Hey, what's the rush?" Pockets asked. "Can't you stay for a drink?"

As she turned back, Coco noticed that everyone was staring at her, which was exactly what she wanted. That way they could tell the FBI what she looked like.

"I got a better idea. How 'bout we take that briefcase and get outta here. I know a great spot for a little fun about fifteen minutes from here, in Alexandria."

"Great!" he smiled broadly. "Just let me tell the office I'm taking the rest of the afternoon off."

"I'll wait for you in the parking lot," Coco said and left.

A couple of minutes later, Clayton Pockets came into the parking lot, carrying the briefcase Coco had given him. She was sitting on a black, yellow-trimmed ninja motorcycle. She wasn't wearing a helmet. He walked over to her and said, "So what's your name, sweet thing?"

"My name?" she repeated, and cracked her gum a few times. "My name is Coco, and I know how to make a man have repeated orgasms without loosing his erection."

Intrigued, Pockets asked, "How?"

"Ever try acupuncture?" she smiled, then remained silent to allow the suggestion to flood his mind. She kick-started the bike and revved the engine a few times. "Try to keep up with me. If you get lost, it's your loss." Then she peeled off. The smell of rubber burning filled Pockets' nose. He ran to his car and pursued her.



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