The following few weeks dragged by without any combat. Jesse was spending 12 hours a day standing rigid behind Limburgers shoulder as he strutted, stank, barked orders and ate, on several occasions he did it all at the same time. Though she still had very little idea of the operation he was running, she knew it wasn't something she would endorse.
She had been introduced to the rest of Limburgers regular thugs including Grease Pit, an enormous and greasy man, who had obviously ordered a 'double serve of brawn but hold the brains'. The bumbling fool stuttered and stammered in Jesse presence and had taken to, in recent days, bringing her flowers as he arrived at the office: flowers, Jesse had noticed that were missing from the gardened entrance of Limburger Plaza.
She had also met, and instantly despised, Limburgers resident scientist, Dr Karbunkle. He reminded her of a more evil Dr Baxter Stockman, a scientist that she and her family had had many run-ins with. Karbunkle, however, possessed an evil that rattled Jesse to the core. He was the kind of evil genius that would, if he ever discovered their genetic secrets, have her entire family live out their lives in glass tanks if, that is, he hadn't dissected them first. She did her best to keep clear of Dr Karbunkle.
Fred the Mutant was more of a sadistic pet than a thug, but Jesse had taken quite a liking to him. He was a disturbing looking creature with three eyes and a mismatched assortment of limbs including a dog's tail and an octopus' tentacle for an arm. He had become the subject of many of the evil doctor's experiments and had come to thoroughly enjoy the pain they brought. Jesse's uncanny knack for causing pain with both physical force and a type of acupuncture had been the beginning of an odd friendship of sorts. She enjoyed the short times she was able to spend with such a bizarre creature.
At least once a week she observed Limburgers goons tussle with the same three riders that she had met on her first night in Chicago. She had come to admire the way they fought, their wild tactics, their loud heavy metal music and their impeccable team work; they displayed a strong bond between them like Jesse's father and uncles had been trying to develop all their lives. In every altercation the three riders were victorious, and left peacefully when the danger to the Chicago citizens had passed, this had always been the way Jesse family had fought. They never set out to kill; they only ever protected the city of New York from immediate threats.
Jesses nights had been spent traveling the city trying to track down the bikers; trying to follow where she had seen them ride off to after their battle had been fought. On several occasions she managed to track them as far as the cities baseball stadium, but the trail had always gone cold from there.
In the small hours of the morning Jesse would return to her motel room, where she would send an encrypted e-mail to her family updating them on her position. She would then meditate before showering and crawling into bed for what was only ever a few hours sleep. Her routine was a grueling one, but years of training had prepared her for far worse.
She was slowly piecing together what Limburger was up to. So far she had come to understand that Limburger wasn't human, though she had figured as much from his stench, and from what she had seen of Maredsous on her last night in New York. As a body guard, opportunities to probe into her marks secrets were few and far between. She was often ordered out of the room during phone calls and meetings, and she certainly couldn't ask question. Jesse had learnt what she knew from observation, eves-dropping and paperwork left lying about.
It seemed to her that Limburger was after natural resources and wasn't particularly fussed what type, though he did show a slight preference to water, steel and oil. Since Jesse had taking up her post she had begun to hear more and more about the war in the Middle East. It wasn't uncommon in the current climate to hear the that America's War on Terror was finally coming to a close, as the possibility of peace talks ensued and massive steps forward were being made and reported in the Newspapers every week, but at Limburger Plaza, or Limburgers office at least, this had become the only topic worth discussing. It seemed that peace in the Middle East was the last thing the Limburger wanted and his reasons all seemed to revolve around his oil supply.
It wasn't until the middle of Jesse's seventh week of service, towards the end of her day's shift that a bizarre video call came through to Limburgers office that allowed all the pieces to fall into place and at the same time raise even larger concerns.
Limburger was sitting in his office in his throne-like chair, almost crying as he read the evenings newspaper. Several pages in, there was a small article about law and order having been successfully introduced to the Middle Eastern country. This seemingly small and unimportant shard of information ripped through Lawrence Limburger as if he had just read his own obituary.
It was as Limburger began to bang his head on the desk in frustration that a face appeared on the large screen. To Jesse it was like seeing a ghost and for a brief moment she thought Maredsous hadn't died and had finally tracked her down. Then she began to notice differences, thought it was a similar blue and green fish-like face, the one on the screen was far larger and much uglier, if it were possible. This new face also had a distinct smug look about it.
"Limburger!" The voice yelled ominously. Limburger froze as his head hit the desk once more, slowly and fearfully he began to look up. "What, in the name of Plutark are you doing?"
Limburger stuttered.
"Killing a bug, Lord." He lied, Jesse couldn't help but smile at the lie Limburger had offered.
"With your head?" The face questioned with derogatory tone.
"It's the only way. You obviously haven't come across one of these earth bugs." Limburger flushed.
"That, Lawrence, is the worst lie any fool has tried to tell me!" the caller screeched. His eyes fell on Jesse, "Who is this?"
Limburger paused, thinking of a lie, but the face interrupted.
"And don't try to lie to me, Lawrence; you are pathetically bad at it."
Anyone could tell that Lawrence was being berated by his boss; this, however, didn't mean that Jesse felt sorry for him in anyway.
"She's my, ah," Limburger was still too proud to admit he was scared enough to hire protection, "bohdigad," He seemed to think mumbling the answer would make the question go away. He was wrong.
"Your WHAT?" The fish-like head screamed impatiently.
"Bodyguard," Limburger winced in reply.
The face roared with laughter, "This, this scrawny house wife of a human is a bodyguard?" Jesse didn't flinch at his words; she was enjoying watching the humiliation Limburger far too much. "I think you have been ripped off, Lawrence. Just wait until the board hears about this!"
Limburger didn't argue, but chose to remain silent in cowardly agreement and the face on the screen continued to laugh joyfully; tears began to run down his face.
After several minutes of dire humiliation Limburger was keen to change the subject, though he dreaded doing so.
"May I ask the purpose of your call, Lord High Chairman Camembert?" He asked hesitantly.
"Yes, yes," Camembert spoke, dabbing his eyes with his hanky, "I haven't laughed like that in years Lawrence, thank you. Before we get down to business, however, we need to observe tradition. The Plurtarkian Greeting, Lawrence." He demanded.
"Sir, surely, after such a joyous moment, these things can be..." Limburger searched for the right word.
"Lawrence Limburger!" Camembert yelled in warning.
Limburger stood abruptly and rounded his desk to the monitor,
"Certainly, my Lord," was his defeated reply.
Jesse watched on, amazed by the strange behavior that followed. The face in the screen backed away, revealing a large rounded body, elaborately robed. Camembert turned and placed his behind to the monitor, Limburger did the same, and, while rubbing their backsides together, they began to sing,
"Cheek to cheek, stink to stink. As Plutark rules, the galaxy shrinks"
The strange greeting was finished off by a chorus gruesome armpit noises.
Jesse found the whole affair thoroughly amusing, but was forced to stifle her smile as Limburger glared at her upon his return to his desk. She returned to her statue-like position.
"Oil, Lawrence." Once more just a face on the screen, Camembert answered the earlier question, "More precisely; your delivery of oil that never arrived! You had better have a good excuse"
"The war has ended, my great poignant one, I cannot continue stealing the oil unnoticed." Limburger bumbled, "I have tried but my men were captured in the process. The oil supplies now have military protection. There is no way I can continue to deliver such vast quantities."
Jesse finally understood. Limburger was an alien, a Plutarkian. He was strip-mining Earth of its natural resources and shipping them back for use on Plutark. Limburger was using the war in the Middle East as a distraction while he stole all the oil he could acquire. However, now that peace was returning to the Middle East, he no longer had unlimited access to a lawless oil supply.
"You are a failure, Lawrence Limburger, a dismal failure with a human child for a body guard. 'There's no way...', 'I cannot...'" His imitation of Limburger was strikingly accurate. "You are weak, Lawrence, and a pathetic excuse for a Plutarkian." Camembert snarled, "You will get me that oil Limburger, or I will send my mother there to get it for you!" This was obviously a significant threat, judging by Limburgers sudden lack of colour. "You won't want that now, will you?"
"What do you suggest I do, Lord?" he pleaded
"That is not my job. My job is to make sure you do yours and that Plutark thrives. My job is to watch you, Lawrence Limburger, and that, I will be doing very closely from now on." A vein was throbbing in Camembert's temple.
"I understand," Limburger accepted, but continued under his breath. "My omniscient, over-inflated one."
"I heard that!"
"Of course you did," he gritted, "Is that all for tonight?" Limburger was desperate to be done with the conversation.
"For tonight," Camembert replied. "I expect your delivery to arrive within the month, I will be checking in. Good bye."
And as quickly as Camembert's face had appeared on the screen, it vanished; leaving Jesse and Limburger alone in the silent office. Limburgers face was stone; his jaw had dropped so far it looked disconnected. It was a long, awkward while before Limburger processed the video call, and once he came to, he had obviously though it best to act as if nothing had happened at all. Jesse continued in her silent position; counting down the minutes until her shift was over.