Author's Note – Again, thank you for the reviews! It's so wonderful to see them in my inbox and to see that you guys are enjoying my work. I'm enjoying writing it!
This chapter is full of angst, drama and action (so much so, I kind of even scared myself) but I promise that I'll write some fluffy stuff soon!
-xx-
Mr. el-Sayyid has been sitting in his rented Mercedes for 45 minutes. He's parked in front of a strip club and any ordinary man would dash out of his car at the thought of naked women dancing in front of him, for him. But Mohammed is not an ordinary man, he is a holy man. He wants so desperately to see these dirty and loose women but he grapples with whether or not he should give in to the most simple of human urges.
He lifts his head up from the Quran in his lap just in time to see a Porsche pull in to the spot next to his car. He can see the occupant before she even steps out of the Porsche. She is a blonde woman with perfect features. It's when she leaves her vehicle that Mohammed can see her body – tall, thin, so toned. Her tank top is tight across her chest, her shorts so teasingly short. He can't tear his eyes away. She is an enticing creature.
Mohammed knows his place, what's to come. He knows that he will see beautiful women dancing for him soon. But this blonde woman is so beautiful and he has so much money.
Before he could continue contemplating for another moment, he has opened the door and stepped out into the hot California air. Walking to the door of the club, Mohammed looks up at the neon sign glistening in the sun – he hopes this is worth it.
-xx-
Everything has been arranged and not five minutes after Sarah has taken the stage for her 15 minute show, the mark walks in the door. Sarah notes how out of place, yet frightening he looks. That's kind of the way she feels as well. She used to be able to do these kinds of missions without a second thought, without even considering how degrading it is or how uncomfortable it makes her. Her body has been an object, a weapon, for years now but that notion has become increasingly difficult to deal with. Especially now that her body is also housing, growing and protecting a baby.
It doesn't take long for Mohammed to turn to the bouncer standing next to him, Casey in disguise.
"I want to see her alone", he says in broken English and a heavy accent.
Casey nods slowly to convey agreement to Mohammed and confirmation of mission to Sarah. By now, she's in a bra and lacy boy shorts and is trying to be seductive while at the same time, she feels like she's going to crawl out of her skin.
Chuck's in the van, running surveillance but since the mission was on such short notice, the team didn't have time to tap into the security system so in the meantime, the only surveillance is Casey's "lipstick cam" and the bug in Sarah's ear. He can see Sarah's striptease and hear "I'm in Love with a Stripper" and he's never felt so close to vomiting.
Soon enough, Sarah saunters off the stage, the CIA upwards of a thousand dollars richer. Casey escorts the mark and the blonde agent as she links arms with Mohammed and pulls him towards one of the Champagne rooms where clients are able to spend some alone time with the girls. Casey stands guard at the door after the two enter, standard procedure at Dirty City.
The room is small, with velour seating and bright red walls. Sarah can hear the distant music from the stage area but mostly she can just hear the crass rap music that plays in the red room. Her mark sits at the end of the small couch. He smiles at her, trying to be conniving but Sarah can tell that he's trying too hard.
"You're new here", he says.
"Yup", Sarah replies, nodding. She moves to stand directly in front of him. His face in line with her purple lace-covered crotch.
"You looked good out there."
"Thank you", Sarah says flirtatiously, tilting her hip to one side.
"Just like a whore."
Mohammed smiles and Sarah stands up a little straighter. She looks towards the door and Mohammed notices.
"Looking for the bodyguard? I won't hurt you."
"Okay. So, what would you like?"
"You dance", he says as he pulls a wad of cash from his pants' pocket. "I pay you, you dance."
"You got it", Sarah says as she begins swaying to the music. It's almost like an out of body experience and as she touches her own body, it takes all she has not to grab the mark and just torture him until he talks.
"What's your name?" he asks her. She can't tell if he's enjoying the show or not and this bothers Sarah. He looks almost indifferent and he flinches when Sarah rubs her chest to the best of the music.
"What's yours?" the woman says.
Her mark shakes his head and pulls a hundred dollar bill out of the thick wad of money.
"I pay you, you tell me your name."
"It's Roxy", Sarah replies. Pulling out whatever stripper-esque name hits her lips first.
"No, it isn't. Tell me your name. I give you money."
"I don't need your money."
"Everyone needs my money. And soon, everyone will know my name", Mohammed says. He takes a long sip of his Bourbon and then winks knowingly at Sarah.
This is going to be easy, the CIA agent thinks to herself.
"Stop dancing", the man says. "Sit down."
"I'm okay to stand and you're paying me to dance."
"What if I pay you to talk?"
Sarah looks towards the closed door again and then sits down, far enough away from Mohammed to feel safe but close enough for him to feel wanted.
"You're new here", Mohammed says again.
"I told you that before."
"You're different than those girls out there. Why do you dance?"
Sarah's been taught never to get caught off-guard but this situation is throwing her way off.
"Because I want to", she finally says.
"Your body guard is new, too. Did you know he wears a camera in his ear?"
So far it's been mostly quiet between Chuck and Casey but now the former, staying in the van, is getting antsy. Casey tells Chuck to chill out, Sarah can handle this.
But she can't. Sarah's not sure if it's the music distracting her, her mark's heavy cologne and drunk breath or the fact that there's an intense combination of hormones and emotions coursing through her body right now. But she doesn't have a handle on the situation and it's scaring the hell out of her.
"Uh, no. I didn't."
"You lie, silly girl. What is your name?" He stands up to get closer to Sarah and as he does, he flicks the volume on the stereo higher.
Sarah walks backwards until she's backed up against the wall. As she reaches for just one of the knives hidden on her scantily-clad body, Mohammed's hand catches hers and he holds her tightly.
"I'm a smart man", he says. "You are not a smart woman."
"You don't know what you're saying", Sarah says. She's purposely speaking loudly, trying to make sure that Casey or Chuck can hear her over the din of thumping music and dirty words.
"Do you work for somebody? Do you know something?" Mohammed says. His left hand takes a hold of Sarah's chest, then her shoulders, then her neck. His right hand moves to her pelvis, still only clad in a pair of lace panties. Why did they send her on this assignment? She knew she was in over her head. Crap.
"I don't work for anybody", Sarah says as she eyes the hand reaching for her neck and then winces when she feels the other hand come in contact with her undergarment.
Mohammed leans in, gets directly in front of Sarah's face and whispers, "You're wearing a wire."
It's not long after that that Mohammed has a hand secured around Sarah's throat. His other hand is still on her crotch and he's got her almost immobilized. She's able to swing her legs a bit, but the man in front of her is so stoic, so still. He doesn't seem to realize what he's doing, or maybe he just doesn't care.
-xx-
"Casey!" Chuck yells into the microphone.
"What?" the older man grunts. He's still standing outside the Champagne room and can hear nothing from within, he can only hear the nerd in his ear.
"Something's wrong. Something is…happening", Chuck says, gulping. "The music got way too loud and I think I just heard Sarah gasp or moan or something. Get in there!"
"Fine, Bartowski. But if she's in there getting information or just getting some, I will wring your neck."
"Casey…"
Casey turns to the door and knocks- once, twice and gets no response. Finally he swings the door open to find his partner on the floor, cradling herself in a fetal position. The mark is sitting on the couch with his Bourbon. What the fuck? is Casey's first thought. The next isn't a thought- he runs over to the blonde woman and checks for a pulse. She's alive, but her breathing is slow and labored. Once her status is ascertained, Casey's next step is to pull out his gun. Mohammed is calm in his reaction, as he's been calm in his reactions all night.
Casey isn't sure what to do next. He wants to tend to his partner, but Mohammed needs to be apprehended. It doesn't look like he's moving to run, though.
Before Casey needs to debate for too long, Chuck has run into the room. Totally out of breath and stumbling. Finally he sees Sarah on the floor and runs to her, crouching in front of her head.
While Casey arrests Mohammed, Chuck leans in front of Sarah's face and grabs her hand into his own.
"Sarah…" he whispers. He's panicked but trying to hide it. But when does that ever work for him? "Sarah, please open your eyes."
"I…I…" the sounds are almost inaudible out of Sarah's lips but Chuck can hear them and he breaks out in a smile but then stops himself from becoming too excited. He's terrified, but Sarah is alive.
"Don't talk…can you open your eyes?"
Sarah nods the best she can and slowly, her eyes begin to flutter open. They're bright blue but cloudy and unfocused.
"We're going to get you to a hospital, okay? Um, blink once to agree. Not that you have a choice."
Sarah blinks once and tries to smile, but it turns into a weird, lopsided grin. Chuck laughs and then picks her up to hold her in his arms.
"You're going to be okay", Chuck says. "I'm going to fix this."
"Bu…" Sarah mutters, coughing from the strain of Mohammed's hand on her throat. "Ba…by. Baby…."
Chuck throws his head back in frustration, "Fuck", he says. "I'm going to fix this."