Brittany's Travels Ch. 04

In prison, Brittany had often coped with her miserable surroundings by imagining she was on a long journey through a beautiful land somewhere. Two days on a train through Europe, with a night at a lovely boutique hotel in Munich in between, had more than fit the bill. Brittany was feeling very rejuvenated as she enjoyed the stunning views on the last leg of the trip, south from Thessaloniki. She didn't know just what awaited her in Athens, but the very fact that she'd found her way there meant her stop in Luxembourg hadn't been a complete bust.

Angie and Joseph had assured her it hadn't been a bust at all. "Now you have firsthand knowledge, and you've got this Madame Zhuckette on our radar for the first time!" Angie had told her on their final conference call back in Luxembourg. "That could be a huge lead for us, whoever she is."

"But I didn't even see her," Brittany had replied. "All I got is the name, and I don't even know if that's real."

"Even if it isn't, it means something that they wanted you to know about her. Keep an ear out for it in Athens, but don't go around asking for her, okay?"

"Even I know better than that, Angie. I do now, anyway."

"Yes, of course you do." Once again Angie had sounded horribly sad, something Brittany had come to learn not to ask about, but no one could stop her from wondering about it. "I just want you to be careful, you know that."

Brittany did know, and she had every intention of being careful. But she couldn't deny, as the train raced toward Athens, that her first mission had left her a little frustrated. All those weeks of imagining all sorts of revenge against the Mansfield Consulting gang that had stolen two years of her life and destroyed her soccer career, and all she had to show for it was the knowledge that someone's wife had been in Athens recently.

And two orgasms at the skilled hand and tongue of that wife. Brittany couldn't help smiling at the memory of that. On that positive note, she recalled what Angie had told her on the day she'd left for Europe: "Don't try to stifle that anger, Erika, use it!" As she gazed back out the window for the first signs of Athens, Brittany resolved to do just that. Once again she was Erika, and once again it was time to use her fury rather than let it eat her up.

It was late afternoon when the train pulled in, and after the long trip Brittany welcomed the cool twilight as she stepped out of the train station. She feigned familiarity with her ancestral land, and resisted the temptation to gaze around like the thrilled newcomer she was as she joined the queue for a taxi. Though her organization had a secure flat in Athens, Joseph and Angie had advised her that the trail was too hot after her fling in Luxembourg for her to go anywhere near it. So Brittany had received their blessing to break the bank on a five-star hotel that would let her pass as a tourist, and she'd scoured the Internet for the most garish luxury resort she could find.

She'd had three days to practice saying it confidently, like a seasoned wealthy businesswoman might, and when the taxi driver asked her destination, she nailed it. "Hotel Grande Bretagne, please."

"Oh my!" remarked the mustachioed driver as he pulled out into the traffic. "Do you stay there often, madam?"

"Every time I'm in Athens," Brittany said.

"Lucky lady," he said. Brittany managed to suppress a smile - he didn't know how right he was about that!

Back in Winchester, most of the other Greek-American kids had gone to Greek school in the afternoons. But here as everywhere, Brittany's mother had been indifferent, so Brittany had jumped at the chance to always have her afternoons free for soccer. She now had yet another reason for bitter regret on that point as she had no choice but to address the desk clerk in English.

The man with the pink carnation in his lapel showed no sign of minding, though, as Brittany gave him Erika's passport and credit card. "Erika Tsoupas, American...your family came from here, I suppose?"

"Yes, my grandparents came over in the fifties." Brittany found it increasingly enjoyable on the rare occasions that she could tell the truth. "I've always wanted to see Athens for myself."

"We are very happy you did, madam," the man said, handing her an envelope with her receipt and key cards. "Simos here will help you with your luggage."

Brittany turned to see a young man who could have been her cousin, grinning obsequiously at her. No question as to why; she had already learned how American tourists had a reputation in Europe as generous tippers. She had also, thanks to Angie and Joseph, learned to be fairly paranoid about anyone who looked too friendly.

But at least that provided an excuse to throw anyone off the scent who happened to be listening. Brittany had done her homework back in Luxembourg, and she knew in Athens, Exarcheia was surely where it was at as far as drugs were concerned. But no one here needed to know that. So after greeting Simos and handing over her suitcases to him, she welcomed his small talk whether that was really all it was or not. "Welcome to Greece, Miss Tsoupas," he said. "How long is your stay?"

"I don't know yet," Brittany said, loudly enough to be overheard by the handful of people in the opulent lobby. "It depends on how I enjoy the first few days. Speaking of which, Simos, could you recommend something for a lady who's just here to relax?"

"Well, the Acropolis is a must, you know," Simos offered as the elevator doors opened. That cliché, to Brittany's satisfaction, was all any moles in the lobby would hear. She felt a healthy wave of nervousness as the doors slid shut behind them, which quickly receded when Simos did not pull a knife on her and demand to know what she knew about Mansfield Consulting, but only prattled on about his favorite parks and botanical gardens. He peppered them with just enough comments about what his mother liked to satisfy Brittany that she'd played him perfectly. Must tell Angie, she reminded herself - but not until she was safely out of the hotel.

Upon seeing her room, Brittany wasn't sure if she ever wanted to get out of the hotel. It was just the sort of beautiful scene she had envisioned for herself throughout her two years in hell: elegant décor and furniture, a king sized bed and - best of all after two days on the train - a bathtub. Who cared about chasing down drug runners when you could live like this! But Brittany remembered - barely - that she was supposed to be a seasoned traveler who had been here many times before. "Thank you, Simos," she said, handing him a twenty euro note.

"Thank you, madam!" he exclaimed, and he was off to leave Brittany safe in her lair. She looked around it with a mix of appreciation and the fury that still burned beneath her newly elegant exterior. Once again the past had a damper on her joy, and once again she managed to remind herself that she wouldn't be in the lap of luxury now if not for all that had come before. And there was a job to do, putting out feelers for Mansfield Consulting in Exarcheia.

But she would not be deprived of a bath first - and maybe a bit of fun even before that!

Angie and Joseph had advised her that there could be bugs in the room if anyone in Athens was on to her. "Don't try to find them, though," Joseph had said. "If you do, they'll know you're on to them." And so Brittany had no choice but to accept there might be a peeping Tom out there somewhere as she began undressing. Having had some time to get used to the idea, she found herself feeling more amused than outraged, and even turned on. It reminded her a bit of the casual nudity that was so common in prison, and the mild titillation that had brought - one of her few pleasures in those dark days.

As she kicked her shoes off and reached back to unzip her dress, Brittany couldn't help grinning. She realized a second too late that in itself could arouse suspicion. As she pulled her dress off and draped it on a chair, she reasoned now that she would just have to give the spies a reason to think she looked awfully happy to be alone. But then, who wouldn't be happy with such a beautiful room to herself? On pulling her tights and panties down, Brittany was not surprised to discover she was quite wet already.

So it was off with her bra, and she flung herself eagerly back on the bed and went to town on herself. Spreading her legs wide and running all her fingers playfully through her thick curls (once again she was glad she hadn't let Winnie remove them), she enjoyed visions of revenge. Sooner or later she'd zone in on a rich, well-groomed operative and let him coax her into bed, reduce him to a sweaty ball of pleasure and contentment...and slap the cuffs on him just as his guard was down. "Do you know who I am?! Do you know what you did to me?!" Then she envisioned getting herself off on his hard-against-his-will cock while he begged for mercy and release, and casually throwing a robe on just before she answered the knock at the door and let the police in. Maybe she'd open her robe for a final fleeting look as they were carrying him off, a reminder of what he wouldn't be seeing - much less touching - for a very long time.

Tony, her ex, flitted across Brittany's imagination as she rubbed herself energetically. If only he and that bitch Vicky could see her now! She saw herself standing proudly nude before him, her body toned and bronzed while Vicky lay pathetically beside him. "This, Tony! This is what you've missed out on because you let me go when I was out of luck! Eat your heart out!"

Brittany came to the image of Tony begging for one last caress, and her refusing with a haughty laugh. She felt the tiniest bit of remorse in the afterglow of her orgasm: she'd assumed for so long that he was the one who put her in prison, and she now knew he was blameless - on that front at least. But he'd still abandoned her when she'd had no one else to turn to.

It was only late afternoon, far too early to think of going to Exarcheia just yet. Brittany wrapped the comforter around her nude body and curled up for a nap.

The room was much darker when she awoke, and peeling back the curtain revealed that it was dusk. Perfect to just be getting started on her night on the town. A long, hot bath as she had promised herself, and then Brittany the tomboyish jock set about dressing as a party girl for the first time in her life. She'd been halfway tempted to tell Winnie to burn the short, slinky dress he'd provided for an occasion like this, and holding it up against her bare body in the mirror she still felt more like a kid on Halloween than the sex kitten she was aiming for. But she could almost see it working.

She decided against stockings, but to avoid feeling too vulnerable, she opted for a one-piece underwear. "Bodysuit" was the word Winnie had used. Assessing her reflection as she slid the strange garment over her breasts, Brittany had to admit it flattered her body quite well. The beautiful woman looking back at Brittany didn't feel like herself at all...but, Brittany reasoned as she pulled the tiny dress on, that was the whole point.

Having memorized the route to Exarcheia, Brittany feigned confidence as she walked down the stairs - out of sight of Simos and any other potentially nosy hotel staff - and steeled herself for the harassment and catcalls she knew to expect as she stepped into the street. Sure enough, they came all through the twenty-minute walk, mostly in Greek and occasionally even a word she'd heard her mother utter in an unguarded moment, but occasionally in English as well. "Hey, Sexy!" "Come have a drink!" And even "How much for the night?"

The last comment broke Brittany's determination to ignore any and all attention from the men, for she burst into laughter at the thought of what she could do to the guy with one phone call. She did manage not to look at him, though, and was only vaguely aware of the vicious ribbing he got from his buddies as she continued on her way.

Exarcheia was much as she'd expected, gritty and funky and overrun with revelers out for the evening. Angie and Joseph had reassured her that any leads would find her if she just went about her business, and so she simply joined the queue outside the first dance club she came across. A clutch of locals a bit younger than she, university students she guessed, were just ahead of her. She wasn't at all surprised when the three male members of the clique gave her the eye. One of them said something in Greek that, judging from the look on his face, was intended to be friendly rather than leering.

Since she had a positive vibe from him, Brittany chose to respond. "Sorry, I don't speak Greek."

"Sorry!" he said. "I said, welcome to our favorite club!"

The other members of his group burst into laughter. Brittany, though she now felt safe in assuming he'd said something that would have had her slapping his face if she'd understood it, joined in the laughter. "Sure you did," she said. "Haven't your friends here taught you how to treat a lady?"

"We try, but he is stupid," quipped one of the women. "You are American?"

"Yes," Brittany said. "Greek-American. Here to look up my cousins. But that can wait. Tonight's for fun."

As she was then sucked into small talk with the group who were eager to show off their English abilities, she didn't notice the man with the shaved head and leather pants who'd overheard her and given her a long leer before joining the queue. Quite by his own design, she never noticed him as she and her new friends made their way to the door, paid the cover charge and stepped into the dark and loud dancehall. She didn't notice him - at first - as she bought a drink at the bar and found a free spot on the dance floor, and cut loose.

The one good thing about her two lost years, Brittany had always thought, was learning to dance. It wasn't nearly the passion soccer had been, but it had brought some joy when nothing else could and she'd fallen in love with it. She'd also had plenty of practice and gained a lot of confidence, and she put both to good use now. Sipping her drink just sparingly now and then - both to stay in control and because her underwear would make peeing an awful chore - she was catching eyes throughout the club in no time with her moves.

The bald man in the leather pants wasn't the first to invite himself to dance with Brittany, but he was perhaps the most aggressive and easily caught her attention in his distinctive outfit. Something about his over-the-top appearance served as a clue to Brittany, perhaps because she still felt a bit silly in her own sexy outfit, and so she didn't swat his hand away when he reached out for hers. She did resist when he tried to pull her off the floor, but he stuck with her when she continued dancing. When he didn't give up through two more songs, Brittany did allow herself to be led off to the bar.

The music was slightly less loud there, just enough for a top-of-the-lungs conversation among the revelers. "Where from?" Brittany's new friend asked with a grin.

"Chicago," Brittany lied, thrilled at the clue that he'd known to address her in English. "I'm here to look up my cousins!"

"That's not all you want to look up, is it?" he asked, handing her a glass of the sweet wine he'd ordered; Brittany didn't like it but she sipped it cordially. "I can think of some places I'd like to look up right now!" he added, casting his eyes down at her legs.

"Wow," Brittany said with a fearless grin. "Does a come on like that ever work? Especially when you don't even know the woman's name yet?"

"Ah, well, just what is your name?" he asked without answering her question. "Mine is Georgios."

"I'm Erika," Brittany said, and she presented her hand for him to shake; instead he smothered it with kisses.

"Are you looking for a good time, Erika?"

"I'm looking for the best time! Any idea where I can find it?"

"I know exactly where!" Georgios said, with a proud look down at his bulging tight pants. "All we need is some privacy. Where are you staying, Erika?"

"None of your business, and surely you have a room near here."

"I have a flat, but not on my own," he said.

"Well then," Brittany grinned through her faint disgust with the cocky young man. "The more the merrier!"

"I don't share my girls with my friends."

"Surely you can ask them to leave the room!" Brittany set down her wine, having no desire to finish it, and pranced off toward the door. "Coming?" she said over her shoulder.

"Hey, come on!" Georgios protested as he stepped out into the night behind her. "You need sex, I can tell!"

"How right you are!" Brittany whipped around and threw herself at him, kissing him hard on the mouth and drawing a round of hoots and hollers from passerby. "Don't tell me you're not man enough to find a place for it, though!"

"He's not, but we've got a place!" came another male voice as Brittany pulled back. "Georgios, I don't know what you put in her drink to get this, but..."

"I didn't put nothing in her drink!" Georgios looked genuinely offended, to Brittany's surprise. "You know I don't need to do a thing like that, Stamatis!" Turning to Brittany, he added, "Sorry. This is Stamatis, a classmate. A really childish one!" he added with a dirty look at his friend.

"Well, Stamatis," Brittany said, turning to him, "I can vouch for him. He didn't put anything in my drink. I really am a fun gal a long way from home and looking for a good time. But if you guys can't find a place for it..."

"No, we can!" Stamatis protested. "I can! Our living room, Georgios."

"I'm not taking a girl in that place, Stamatis!" Georgios protested.

"We've got girls over tonight, she'll be perfectly safe!" Stamatis said. "You'll like it, uh..."

"Erika," Brittany said. "And why will I like it?"

"If you're here for a good time, our place is the place to get it," Stamatis said. "Georgios here, he's all about sex only, you know there's more than that, right?"

"She's not that kind of girl, Stamatis," Georgios said.

"Who says I'm not?" Brittany asked him. "Stamatis, lead the way!" Was Georgios a red herring? Was it a trick? Brittany had no idea, but there was only one way to find out.

"I will!" Stamatis said. "Down this way!" He led them further down the street where Brittany had happened across the dance club, and through a maze of side streets, Georgios grumbling all the way even as Brittany took his hand and rubbed it. "So what do you like?" Stamatis asked her at one point on the walk.

"Depends on what you've got," Brittany said.

"We've got plenty. Just got some great new stuff from a friend's wife, down from Luxembourg."

Brittany's heart leapt, and her grip on Georgios' hand tightened. Realizing too late what she might have given away, she turned to him and kissed his ear, hoping to pass it off as flirtation. "I'm so wet for you!" she whispered. A lie, but even Georgios wasn't going to check that in public.

The ruse worked, for Georgios grinned and stroked her hand and laughed. "We'll show him you don't need his junk to have a good time!"

"Indeed," Brittany said, grinning through her rage as she now knew Stamatis was in with the Mansfield Consulting crowd. Just what else did he know? Who else did he know? Did he have anything to do with her father and Peter Gruber and ruining her life? There was, she knew as she watched the spry young man trot up the alley three steps ahead of her, only one way to find out. And it meant she had to keep her newfound hate for him to herself.

"Welcome to the chemist," Stamatis said with a grin as he unlocked an unremarkable looking metal door. "Georgios, maybe even you want to try something new tonight?"

"Only Erika. She's new tonight."

Brittany laughed to keep up appearances as they found themselves in a darkened kitchen. Following the dim light at the other end of the room, they emerged into a large room strewn with beat-up couches and chairs. Two young women and a man were hunched over an end table in one brightly lit corner. One of the women said something to Stamatis in Greek.