NORTH NORTH HOLLYWOOD - Chapter 36 -by Peter Nolan Smith

THIRTY-SIX

A lush strangeness had crept over Lena's body in the last ten minutes and its source had to be the water she had been drinking, yet she did not have the strength to protest being drugged or the desire to stop the redhead from stripping off her clothes in the laboratory and helping her into the sensor harness.
Pressing the harness' metal rings against the skin bordering her nipples, a euphoric tide spread through her body like the ripple of a stone thrown into a pond and she fell back on the bed's cool white sheets to cut her ties with Earth.
Within the control room Louie Sinreich was discussing a technical matter with the two inventors. When Bob Olsen finally turned his head to be spellbound by how the harness of wires, leather straps, and steel rings had transformed Lena into a heavy metal goddess, Ur Bell followed his compatriot's line of vision and Sinreich announced, "Boys, looks like we missed blast-off."
Grabbing Bob's arm, Louie forcibly set the fat computer programmer before his terminal. "What's wrong with you, boys? You never seen a naked girl before."
Bob Olsen's fat face quivered, as he complained. "I thought we were going to wait for her friend."
"You ever heard of foreplay? Besides it's not just a man's world out there we want to put in here,” Louie stated, tapping one of the five computer towers. "What are your figures saying?"
"That s-s-s-she is approaching orgasm.....at warp s-s-s-speed," Ur answered weakly, wishing he had worn his Star Trek uniform for this occasion. "The s-s-sensors are reading her body s-s-s-stimuli.....perfectly."
Louie regarded the LCD display on the laptop computer. The red numbers and graphs were changing constantly without any fixed pattern to his uneducated eyes. While he was totally mystified by the workings of its technology, he could feel the growing power of the SINSEX's impending success and slapped the two inventors on the back. "This is it, boys. Welcome to the future of sex."
Through the magic of good timing and the proper mixture of drugs, he had opened Lena's floodgates to pleasure. A girl of sound mind and body had signed a release. He could not be sued for sucking Lena's succubus into the program's SOMA. All system were go. "Boys, I have some business to take care of, but I'm going to be back real soon, so don't touch that dial."
Jimmo had never seen the porno producer so excited and asked, "What's up, Mr. Sinreich?"
"That cop from New York is coming over with a friend. I want you to go downstairs and let them in as soon as they arrive."
After Jimmo lumbered down the corridor, Louie returned to the control room, where both inventors surveyed the technological data being spewed from the sensors on Lena's body.
"How's it going?” Louie asked Bob Olsen.
"Er, perfect,” The inventor replied with a tear in his eyes.
"So once you press a button, the suit will be ready for use?"
"Something like that.” Bob rolled his eyes, for crunching the SPI or Sexual Preference Identifier into SOMA data base disc this magnitude would take months, although within a day they could have a passable example of what was to come.
"Great, you're going to make the world a much happier place.” Louie patted Bob on the back, but told the geeks firmly, "Keep doing what you're doing. We'll get to the real test in just a couple of minutes."
"I don't want to say anything, but this isn't how we really intended the data compilation to occur,” Bob said in a low voice.
"And how did you expect it to occur'?
"Well, a little more romantic maybe."
"A little more romantic. I know romance novels sell, but nothing sells like sex and that's what's everyone is after. At least in my business."
Bob had doubted from the beginning that Louie's agenda was same from theirs. Not that there was much he could do to prevent him from doing what he wanted, but Ur was another story entirely. "T-t-t-this isn't w-w-what w-w-w-e had expected___"
"Yeah, it's not, but I got you the lab, the money, and the girl.” Louie whispered menacingly in Ur's ear, "What would the Feds would do, if they found out you had stolen this technology from them? Stick your ass in prison for a very long time. I went out on the limb for this shit."
"I d-d-d-don't care."
Louie hadn't expected such a strong streak of resistance from Ur Bell, so he eased up and said, "Boys, what are we fighting for?" You and I want the same results. What is better? More data or less data?"
"More data,” Bob answered, though he would have preferred to say, "The right data."
"Mr. Sinreich, your guests are here," Jimmo announced from the doorway.
"I know this isn't perfect, but man is the one Lena wanted. It's up to her to be romantic. All I can do is provide the setting.” Louie stepped back and held out his hand. "We still friends?"
"Okay,” Bob reluctantly shook with the porno producer, though when he returned to the control panel, Ur raised his eyebrow, as if to say they had been betrayed yet one more time.
In the office Frank deRocco was sitting at the desk and a battered blond man in mud-spattered black jeans and denim jacket lay on the floor. His hands were tied together. His eyes and mouth were covered by electrical tape as were his ears.
"This him?” deRocco lit a cigarette and threw the match on the floor.
"It's him.” Louie answered, though the man was no different from the hundreds of aging drifters rambling in and out of LA each month. All of them with some fantastic down-and-out story. Sometimes you saw them walking in the desert headed to where the transmissions in their heads told them to go. Still there was no mistaking him for anyone other than the man, who had freed Che.
Louie had unanswered questions to ask; like who the man was, how he had come to be in the desert, and why Che had burned down the bungalow, but they were all unimportant in comparison to the task at hand. "You have any idea who he is?"
"Some loser." deRocco was not going to volunteer any more information. Once the rest of the money was paid, deRocco would bust out of LA, leaving a trail of dead men. No more Seano. No more Louie Sinreich and maybe a few more no mores.
"You tell him anything?"
"Nothing."
"Good.” The producer ripped off the strip of electrical tape over the bound man's right ear and hissed, "You do what I tell you and you'll come out of this without a scratch. You having any trouble following me, are you?"
The blindfolded man shook his head from side to side.
"This is going to sound weird, but this is what's going to happen.” The porno producer pulled the man's head by the hair. "We're going to take your clothes off and we're going to bring you into a room and you're going to have sex with a woman. You have sex with her and go. Simple, right?"
Sean nodded again, certain this man had contracted Driscoll and deRocco to kill the old man in Vegas, but also that the man was ignorant of his having faked the murder, though for the present this knowledge did him little good.
Someone lifted him to his feet and he was clumsily dragged down a corridor. He faintly heard the sounds of electronics, but they faded upon entering another room. Hands roughly stripped off his clothing, shoes, and underwear. Thankfully the room was heated and the floor carpeted. A few seconds later a woman pressed against him. She smelled young and her skin was soft. He put his hand around the girl, however she took his hand, but after a few steps forward, the girl let go of him, so he felt like an astronaut whose lifeline to the space station had been cut, until the outside of his legs met with the soft inner thighs of another female.
Sean's hands discovered that this second female wore a leather lattice with wires running from metal circles pressing into her flesh. Her skin was smoother than any he had touched this side of high school. At first he thought she might be restrained, but then velvety thighs and bare ankles hooked around his back, the leather straps digging into his flesh.
Two sets of fingernails lightly scratched down his chest past his stomach. When her hands cradled his erection, he breathed in deeply the scent of cinnamon and tar. Even without seeing her visually, the woman materialized within his mind and his hands ripped away the tape from his face.
Despite all his fantasies nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Lena writhing on a white-sheeted bed under lurid ruby lights. Her eyes were glazed with lust, and her olive skin glistened with sweat. She was the mythic vision of every harlot who ever invaded his dreams, awake or asleep, but he had no idea why she of all people was here. Pulling her labia apart with both hands, Lena slurred, "Do me."
"Do it.” The redheaded girl kneeling by the side of the bed whispered.
"Now.” A man's voice ordered. "Do her."
Sean had wanted Lena from the first time he had seen her, yet he had never been one to obey orders, so he spun on his heels. "Not like this."
"Why not? This is just an experiment,” The man in the gray suit said calmly, as if this being part of science consecrated the situation. "Lena asked for you, so we brought you here."
"You expect me to believe that?” Sean demanded, wishing whatever moral barrier stood in his way didn't exist, but Lena had been drugged and he had a good idea who had administered the narcotic.
Three other men were visible inside a glass room, which reminded Sean of a cheap version of a mad scientist's laboratory and he half-expected to see a hunchback pop out of the corner, though the sight of deRocco appearing the door was scary enough.
"Just do the bitch." deRocco said menacingly. "Just look at her. She wants it."
"This isn't the way it is supposed to be.”A fat man in white paper overalls entered the room, his long hair plastered to his head and his eyes filled with tears. "This is all wrong, all wrong."
"Everything is going to be alright. Now get back inside." The man in the gray suit shoved the hippie, but the fat man caught himself in the doorway and wouldn't budge, until deRocco punched him in the gut and he tumbled out of the room. The cop swept his strands of hair across the gleaming bald plate of his skull. "Do like we say."
"Or what?” Sean gasped defiantly.
"You know damn well what?" deRocco cracked his knuckles to emphasize he was more than willing teach Sean another lesson he would not forget.
"Just look at her. She's begging for you,” the man with the silver hair said and Sean turned his head to where Lena lay on the bed.
Lena's dazed eyes blazed through him and swollen lips wordlessly mouthed what she needed from him. Her breasts swelled with each panting breath and her erect nipples jutted from the dark aureoles. Where thousand of actresses in movies, singers in music, and women in his own life failed to exude such wantonness, an unexorcised incubus had seized control of Lena's sweltering body. If he obeyed these people, they might let him live. Sean’s life might be blemished with even worse sins than taking advantage of Lena in this state, however he repeated, "I won’t do it."
"Yes, you will.”
"What are you going to beat me, till I get an erection?"
"If that's what you're into, no problem.” The man in the gray suit smiled wickedly and snapped his fingers at deRocco. "Get him."
deRocco painfully pinned Sean's arms behind his back and he tensed his stomach for a beating. Not that it would have done any good.
"No, no, don't hurt him.” the man said and deRocco ease up on the pressure on his arms. The man called to the redhead, "Alice, get over here."
Watching the redhead kneeled before the naked blonde man, words formed in Lena's mouth to tell them to stop, but no syllables came out, so she slid off the mattress, the wires attached to the harness 'sensors popping from the wall sockets, as she went over to the corner.
No one noticed her reach into her pocketbook for Sherri's pistol. She found the coldness of gun's steel grip pleasant and lost track of what she should be doing, until she cocked the revolver's hammer, saying "Stop."
The redhead pulled away from Sean, her mouth an oval 'o'. The large man in the dark suit merely smiled, but hadn't released his captive. As Louie Sinreich lifted his hands, Lena said through a bizarre baffling in her head, "Sherri told me not to trust you."
"Like no one is hurting you."
"Let go of him." Lena pointed the gun at the big man's body, since a headshot would be too hard to make, even at this distance.
"Whatever you want, little girl." deRocco released Sean and stepped forward, raising his hands.
"Don't come any closer." Lena warned.
"Little girl, why you want to hurt me? I don't want to hurt you.” Anyone with a gun was dangerous, but this girl was out of her head on drugs, still having unarmed tens of fugitives and perps on the Lower East Side, he figured he could get the gun away from her without her pulling the trigger.
"I'm not kidding.” Her eyes shifted around the room for any other threat, though the big man was absolutely the most dangerous one.
"No one's gonna to hurt you, young lady, but that gun might go off, so why don't you put it down?" deRocco took another step closer. She was only ten feet away now.
"Are you okay?” She asked Sean, for his face was just as bruised as the first time she had ever seen him.
"I've been better, but we can talk about that later." Sean struggled to his feet.
Lena warned the big man, "Stop right there."
"Sure, but put down the gun first. I'd hate to see you or me get hurt." No way he was letting her leave and his mind worked out the logistics of grabbing the gun. She held the gun with one hand, so the recoil would throw the pistol up. deRocco paused for a second and turned his head to Sean. When the girl followed his gaze, he leapt forward.
A deafening boom reverberated in the room, but the bullet missed deRocco and struck the opposite wall. He slapped the pistol out of Lena's hand and viciously yanked her by the hair. "You little bitch."
"Let her go.” Louie said, but deRocco was beyond reason and whipped out his 9mm. Just before he could pull the trigger to start the mayhem, the pale-skinned invention appeared at the door and stammered, “S-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-stop it n-n-n-n-now."
The staccato stutter broke deRocco's concentration on the task at hand and Sean picked up Lena's .38, his anger at being mistreated by the women in the desert, Driscoll, deRocco as well as others not present transformed him from a beaten man to an angel of vengeance and without thinking he crossed the room, raising the revolver over his head.
deRocco heard the bare feet, but didn't see the barrel of the pistol crack across his face to stun him into letting go of Lena and a second backhander snapped his head to left, splitting his cheek wide open. The big detective would have probably gone down unassisted, except Sean and deRocco went back a long way, so he cracked the .38's cylinder into deRocco's temple and the cop crashed onto the floor. If Sean had been wearing boots and they were alone, he would have continued the beating, but he pointed the gun at the man in the suit, who said, "I didn't do nothing."
"Oh, you've done plenty,” Sean said, as a bearded man rushed into the room.
He stopped short at the sight of the gun and announced, "Hey, man, I just work here."
"Then kneel on your hands."
The bearded man did as he was told and Sean swept up deRocco's 9mm, feeling strangely vulnerable because of being naked, yet at the same time satisfied to have saved Lena from whatever fate they had planned for her. His normal instinct would have been to run, however for once he was going to act like a real citizen and call 911. The police could sort out this mess.
As he bent over to get deRocco's cellphone, the cop's eyes fluttered open like Frankenstein coming to life and his right hand seized Sean's left, as he slurred, "You should have shot me when you had the chance. I would have."
Sean's hand holding the .38 was still free, though before he could stick the muzzle in deRocco's face, the cop clasped onto Sean's wrist and somehow grappled himself up to his knees and then his feet. His fingers dug into Sean's tendons and the gun clattered to the floor, as the cop bearhugged him around the chest, crushing the air from his lungs and snapping two ribs. He had been lucky so far and survived everything LA could throw at him, but in a matter of seconds Sean's arms hung useless at his sides and at the point of blacking out he saw Lena stick the .38 in deRocco's back and pulled the trigger. DeRocco's head twisted in agony to see who had shot him and he instantly let go of Sean, saying, "You bitch. You shot me."
He thumped to the floor, blood staining his shirt both back and front. Almost everyone in the room was stunned by the shooting, for watching violence on TV or in the movies never prepares you for the force of its true brutality.
Only Sean reacted.
He grabbed the gun from Lena and it dawned on him that while deRocco might have been 'dirty', he was still a policeman and nobody gets away with shooting a cop. They had to get away and fast, so he rifled deRocco's pocket's for the car keys and seized Lena's arm, telling her, "Let's get out of here."
"You're not going to get away with this.” The silver-haired man warned.
"In that case, I don't have anything to lose.” Sean sucker-punched the man, who hit the floor groaning.
Sean fled with Lena, stopping only to pick up his jacket and jeans. They could get dressed later. In the control room the two unknown men raised their hands over their heads. "We did nothing."
"Then keep doing that.” Sean was better at threatening people with a gun than shooting them.
"We're sorry, Lena,” the unkempt fat hippie said, tears wetting his cheeks.
"I understand,” Lena whispered weakly.
"Lena, we got to get out of here.” Sean realized that whatever was so important about this room had to be in the laptop, which he seized with his free hand.
"No, not t-t-t-that. It's the program for t-t-t-this experiment.” The thin man almost took a step forward, but halted, when Sean swung the pistol's muzzle in his direction.
"Tough shit." Sean wrenched the PC case free of its wires and bolted from the room.
Lena was already exiting from a side office, carrying a compact aluminum suitcase along with her pocketbook. No one followed them down the stairs or out through an empty foyer into a cold rain.
Sean spotted the Taurus and they ran across the parking lot, their bare feet splashing through the puddles. He shoved the dazed Lena inside the car and jumped behind the wheel, slamming shut the door.
"Where you going?" Lena asked with a thick tongue, as Sean took the westbound exit on the Ventura freeway.
"Anywhere, but here." He looked over his shoulder for flashing lights, but the rain blurred out everything other than the headlights of the traffic behind him.
"We have to get Sherri."
"Lena, you just shot a cop back there."
"I did?"
"Yes."
"It was self-defense."
"Maybe so, but no one is going to believe you tonight, so I have to get you someplace safe. We'll go over the hills____"
"No, we're not. We're going back for Sherri." Lena tried to wrest the steering wheel from Sean and the Taurus weaved across the freeway to the blare of horns. Sean shoved her into the passenger door and regained control of the fishtailing car. He had to reason with Lena and said, "Lena, we'll call Sherri___"
"No, we're going back." Lena might have been smaller than him, but in her state she was more than he could handle with both hands on the wheel. He had no choice and slugged her in the head. It was a good shot and maybe too hard, for she sagged onto the seat like a bag of sand.
"Shit." Sean muttered, for while he had been morally barred from having sex with her, hitting her had almost been too easy. "Sorry, but this way is for the better."
She couldn't hear him, but doubted she would see it his way once she came to. It didn't matter, for he wasn't looking for anyone to thank him for his role in a murder. He stepped on the gas and sped up the windshield wipers, telling himself that everything would work out. It was a lie, but one he could believe for right now.
Tomorrow would be another question entirely.