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Eventually, the captain turned on the seatbelt sign and announced they were approaching the airport, cleared for landing. Jeffery downloaded the remaining documents to his PDA for access during their negotiation meetings. Greta unpacked the clothes necessary for deplaning and strapped in. The plane landed smoothly and taxied to the VIP terminal. Jeffery donned a grey wool suit, Greta a fashionable woman’s business suit. Her peach blouse added a daring splash of color to the stead German business environment. There were very little hassle at customs and immigration, the efficient German bureaucrats stamping Greta’s accurate paperwork and forms. The company’s welcoming party included several corporate executives. Introductions were perfunctory, they had all researched each other’s dossiers extensively and all knew all. Greta still went through the protocol introductions as those were her duty. The group took several limousines through the city to the fabrication facility. On. Seconds after she got off the plane, three black men in uniforms approached her and one held a gun to her."Drop the bags, ma'am. You need to come with us." What? I just got here, I've done nothing wrong." You need to come with us. Charles, get her bags," the large, black man ordered to his lackey. Red's pale skin began to brighten; she had no idea why, but she was embarrassed. Her black miniskirt swayed a bit as the final man grabbed her by the arm and dragged her, along with her things, into a small room off to the side of the hallway she'd just stepped into. Inside were several chairs, a metal table bolted to the ground, and a pair of handcuffs linked to a bar set into an indentation in the table."Sit," the larger man ordered her. She did, and one of them came behind her and immediately handcuffed her."What's going on?" Red asked, very confused about the situation."We've had reports of a woman fitting your description attempting to bomb several airports. Could you tell us why?" No,.
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I knocked on his door, across the way from my own and on the top floor. The man who greeted me was soft-spoken, handsome by normal standards. His arms were solid, bright sleeves. One of them was a collage of the Nightmare Before Christmas, so I knew he had to be some kind of okay. I wound my way through his apartment to his extra bedroom, the workroom, he called it. I stripped off my plain black T and exposed my side. We’d discussed previously what I wanted and he was excited to do it. Normally, his coworkers would come to him with the usual requests…visages of the local sports team, names, most of the women wanting flowers or butterflies or some such nonsense. Not me. No, I nursed a great love of literature, particularly horror, from a young age. Yes, my first tattoo was a homage to my first love. It was an undulating black serpent-like thing with countless eyes, rendered in black with gold eyes with an orange tint. Oh, he would be lovely to reveal when I undressed! I laid out on.

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