* * * * *
The Scorpionflies suited up. Five minutes later, the NCOIC (Sergeant Major Duntz) reported they were ready. So, I brought the "toiletry case" over to the window overlooking the roof of the Gulliver Suite.
"There's the target, gentlemen," I said: "Any further questions?"
"Sir!" they chorused: "No, sir!"
"Alright, then. I've got my earwig unit on.* When you're ready to enter in force, let me know. And, I'll take out her bodyguards."
"Affirmative," the sergeant major replied.
At which point, I emptied the case. Seconds later, the entire team of microndos was spiraling downward like one of those "heliccpter seeds" that litter the driveways of New England, every fall. The only difference between that and the Scorpionflies being the sound of their jetpacks (which grew less audible, to me, after the first five feet of descent).
Ten minutes after that, I was standing behind the stairwell door just to the right of the Gulliver Suite's main entrance. That is; to the guards' right. Because, Merlinova's minions were once again flanking that entrance (assuming they had ever gone off-duty, at all).
"Scorpionfly Alpha to Marco Polo. Scorpionfly Alpha to Marco Polo," Sgt. Major Duntz finally transmitted: "We are in position. Will blow hole in target window with shrunken shape charge in T minus one minute. Tap twice if message received; over."
So, I lifted my right index finger and tapped the earwig. After that, I opened up the stairwell door all the way, and staggered towards the two burly ex-Spetsnaz commandos.
"Snookums!" I called (in my best slurred speech): "Oh, Snookums! Daddy's back with some more cham-pag-nee."
I deliberately mispronounced it to rhyme with "Cagney" (the way Bugs Bunny might have), while raising the left hand holding it straight up in the air.
"Hey, Snookums! Open up...in the name of (hic!) love."
The Russian to my left looked at his comrade and muttered (not knowing I could translate him):
"This mother-frigger is drunk."
So, I replied to him (in equally fluent Russian):
"I resemble that remark."
It worked. He was so momentarily taken aback, I was able to bring the bottle straight down on his head. I then broke his nose with a right-handed palm heel strike, before lunging (with a counter-clockwise spin) to my right. In the process, I used the jagged edge of the bottle to slice the other guard's carotid artery before he had even finished drawing his gun!!
As a result, both hands instinctively flew up to his throat, leaving his groin vulnerable to a left-footed snap kick. Which, in turn, doubled him over enough that I broke _his_ nose with my left knee!
All of that in less time than it takes to tell.
Furthermore, by the time I had accomplished all that, the Scorpionflies had infiltrated the Gulliver Suite from outside. Consequently, there was a momentary scream, followed by some Slavic swearing. And, when I kicked open the right-hand door of the main entrance, I found Juliet Merlinova alternately ducking, and attempting to swat, the Scorpionflies as they buzzed around her head.
I used this to my advantage. Pulling a fountain pen, from the left lapel pocket of my white shirt, and then racing forward to squirt its contents (a mixture of mace and chloral hydrate) straight into her face!
She fell to the carpeted floor like the proverbial wet sack of manure. When I made sure she wasn't playing 'possum, I asked the sergeant major (via earwig) if he had located Gladys Crabtree, yet. He replied that she was in the master bedroom of the suite. So, that's where I ran next. Sure enough; she was laying on the bedspread.
Dressed like one of those topless West African women I used to read about in NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC.
"Gladys? You all right? I'm Marco Polo. Major Minor sent me."
She recognized Miles Stone's code-name, instantly. She then feebly smiled and nodded. Whereupon, I took off my white shirt, and told her to climb aboard. I radioed the Scorpionflies to join her. Then, I carefully folded up the shirt into the semblance of a laundry bag, before doubling back to the main entrance and dragging the dead Russians inside. After that, I put out a "Do Not Disturb" sign, locked those double doors behind me, and then exited through the alternate entrance to the Gulliver Suite.
[Don't worry; I wasn't barechested. I had made sure to put on a T-shirt, beneath the long-sleeved white shirt. One bearing a likeness of Jimmy Buffet holding a hyacinth macaw on his right wrist. And, with a caption just beneath that likeness reading: "Parrot Heads Rule!"]
By the time, I had returned to the Honeymoon Suite, police cars were beginning to arrive at the hotel. Which meant that somebody must have come across those dead Russians, despite my initial precautions. Perhaps one of those cleaning ladies who pretend they can't read English, when it comes to "Do Not Disturb" signs!
Anyway, Sergeant Major Duntz gave Gladys one of his spare camo-fatigue outfits, so she could feel less self-conscious about her nudity. Meanwhile, I tried to raise Naomi on my earwig, to update her on the status of my part of our mission. Yet, all I got was static.
Needless to say, that did not bode well.
tbc
Giantess World
Author's Chapter Notes:
ERIC BRAVO'S P.O.V. (contd.)
Chapter End Notes:
*Earwig: American slang term for a type of microelectronic wireless transceiver that can be fastened, inconspicuously, behind one's ear lobe. Provided one is a 21st-century secret agent.