Heartbreakers Ch. 10

"Like what?" Rochelle urged.

"Top Secret, bitch." Amy said. "Maybe I'll tell you guys later, but right now I want to finish hearing Heather's story."

"You little slut." Heather teased, before she went on. "Mindy's idea was that we should pick random TAC targets, girls we didn't know very well. That way our bad feelings for them would not get in the way. She said our emotions would make us sloppy. I think we all got three girls at the beginning, but some of them were hard to pin down, so the number changed depending on how hard it was to do a mini-Action on them. Sometimes we would do mini-Actions against more than one girl at the same time. So the number sometimes changed, is what I'm trying to say.

"And then I went to work. I walked up to some of the Stoners, since I know a bunch of those guys. I told them that I'd let them feel my tits if they broke the windows on a certain girl's car. I told them I could get them a good deal on weed if they did something else for me, like pick a fight with a TAC girl's boyfriend. I went to their dealer and I told him to charge the Stoners less for weed. To make up for it, he could charge the TAC crowd more. The dealer didn't even ask for anything in return, since he didn't like the TAC chicks to begin with.

"So all of us were out doing mini-Actions all over the place and getting away with it. Mindy was watching how successful we were and how we weren't getting caught. She wanted to pick things up a notch, so she researched how the Mafia does things. They have their Don, and their Don tells his Captains what to do, and the Captains go out and tell their Soldiers what to do. She studied how the military is structured, too. She combined the two things together and came up with the Heartbreakers Rules And Code Of Conduct. Her idea was that everything we were up to could be kept hidden away from the Random Public, by putting buffer levels between the Elite and the people actually doing the damage. This is how she uses one Resource to contact another Resource and pass along information, without Mindy being implicated. This is how today she can turn around and tell Shelly to call a guy, and Shelly can tell this guy that the Heartbreakers will give him special consideration in the future, if he can call another guy and tell him to go and break into the van that Mindy's mother drives.

"We went to the next level against the TAC. Their girls started getting beat up by other girls, their boyfriends started getting beat up, their cars had their windows broken or their tires slashed, their tests went missing from class; all sorts of things. Agitators would infiltrate the crowd at their stupid house parties and they'd tear the house up. I remember one time, when I found out who was supplying the beer for their parties. I got the same exact model keg and asked the Stoners to fill it up with piss. That keg made it into a TAC party."

"Remind me not to put you in charge of liquor, if I ever have a party." Amy said.

"Some of those girls got expelled for fighting." Rochelle recalled.

"They sure did." Heather nodded. "And that meant there were less of them for us to deal with. That's called Attrition. Well, these TAC girls were pretty stupid, or unskilled if you want to call it that, but they did figure out that somebody was fucking them over. They didn't even look in our direction, because everything the Heartbreakers were doing was being done covertly. Besides, what could only four Heartbreakers do against so many of them? The TAC was still skirmishing with the Fillies, and they turned on the Fillies instead.

"This made things a lot worse for the TAC. By turning their backs on the Heartbreakers, they left their backs open to us and we moved in for the kill. They lost five members because of the fighting, or because somebody had stuck test results or some other contraband into their lockers or their backpacks. From fifteen, or whatever it was, they went down to less than ten. We picked out the weakest links in their chain. We used our Resources to harass them and little by little we broke them. It took us almost three months to do all this. They still hadn't figured out it was us, but among themselves they understood that despite all the money they had, it didn't seem all that fun to be a Town And Country girl anymore. Their ranks started thinning. The rest of them, the diehards, were starting to see that they'd lost the Game."

"And the Fillies started pounding them, too." Amy remembered.

"They sure did." Heather agreed. "Shelly thought up what she called the final brushstroke on a black masterpiece. By this time, there were only about five TAC girls left. We'd catch these girls alone, and right to their faces we'd say something so they could absolutely know that it was the Heartbreakers who had kicked their ass. I remember walking up to one girl. You know what I said to her?"

"What?" Rochelle asked.

"I asked her; do you remember that day when eight Town And Country girls surrounded one Heartbreaker? And then I said; payback really is a bitch, isn't it? And I walked away."

"That's... that's beyond awesome." Amy said.

"The rumor flooded all over school; you do not fuck with the Heartbreakers." Heather continued. "Because somehow, some way, you will pay for it. I'm sure Bethany and her Fillies took a really good look at what we'd done. That is when they started sorting through all the pieces and figured out how we'd masterminded the whole thing. Bethany had to pick up her game right away. I'll admit she got pretty good at it, and she had to, otherwise Mindy would have wiped her ass with the Fillies. The stringers became our Wannabes. When some of the people who had done mini-Actions decided to flap their mouths, they became Trespassers of Secrets, and we dealt with them, too. That's when the whole competition between the Fillies and us really kicked off. From the start, Bethany was a cut above anybody from the TAC, because she never bullied us or used violence against us, and so we never retaliated in kind. It became a mental chess game between Mindy and Bethany, and that's the way it has been ever since. And if you think any of us Elite are as good at the Game as those two hookers are, just take a look at what happened yesterday. Mindy can outthink anybody in our Elite, and Bethany can outthink anybody in hers."

"Mindy can outthink all of us put together." Rochelle suspected. "She sure did it yesterday."

"The bottom line is that Mindy and Bethany ran our clubs and made them huge because they were in direct competition with each other." Heather concluded. "If you take away the rivalry, what do you have left? Friendliness?"

"Well, Mindy and Bethany sure are friendly." Amy noted. "They're friendly all over the place."

"What about money?" Rochelle wondered. "What if the focus of a combined club becomes making money?"

"If Mindy cared a lick about money, she'd have a ton of it. She would have used it to buy her own car already." Heather answered. "In Mindy's way of thinking, money is a by-product of notoriety, and notoriety is one of the things she thrives on. She gets off on that power trip, where she can make one phone call to one person, and just like that she sets off a long line of dominoes. Can you imagine what kind of power it takes to get half the school to take off their clothes, because you're trying to save two of your Elite?"

"And Bethany can do the same thing." Rochelle knew.

"It's a match made in Hell." Amy said. "But they're perfect for each other."

"What happens when two armies that have hated each other for a long time, suddenly find themselves at peace?" Heather asked. "The answer is important, because that's what's happening right now. The two armies are our two clubs, and while we've had skirmishes off-campus, our main battlefield has always been the high school."

"Can we even have peace?" Amy wondered.

"I guess that's what we're going to find out." Heather shrugged.

"Well, Haley didn't just have peace, but she had two pieces, as in she had two pieces of Fillie ass yesterday." Rochelle reminded them.

Heather was shaking her head. "That totally boggles my mind. Last week, the Fillies were doing a Covert Action against Haley's dad. This week, Haley's dad is stroking both of those Fillies in his house, and Haley and her mom are right there in the middle of it. If I were Bethany, I'd be pretty pissed at Lady K and Lacy right now. They didn't just fail, and this goes way beyond consorting with the enemy. They straight got turned, as in their alliance. If I was Bethany, I'd be thinking about serious discipline."

"Except Bethany has her hands full with Mindy." Rochelle commented.

"Check this guy out." Amy motioned with her head.

The three girls turned and observed a shirtless man jogging by. He was in his mid-twenties perhaps, with a nicely chiseled upper body, small but loose black shorts, toned legs and running shoes.

"He's all right." Heather judged.

"All right?" Rochelle balked. "I don't know what guy you're looking at, but that guy is hot!"

"Okay, so he's hot." Heather reconsidered. "But he's no kind of challenge. All we'd have to do is go up to him and ask him some stupid question. In like two seconds, he'd be trying to get into our pants."

"And there's something wrong with that?" Amy looked back at her.

"Maybe I like a challenge better than an easy mark." Heather answered.

"Would you choose that guy or your dad?" Amy asked.

"My dad, and the challenge there is really about getting my mom out of the house."

Amy scanned across the park. "What about that other guy? The other one without a shirt and wearing a little red cap."

"I think he's gay, because that cap looks gay. It's no contest. I'd still take my dad."

"Would you take any guy over your dad?" Amy persisted.

"I don't know." Heather admitted. "I've got a thing for him right now. I guess because it's taboo and everything. I had him once and I wouldn't mind having him again."

"Rochelle, what about you?"

"I'll take that guy in the black shorts." Rochelle divulged. "But..."

"But what?" Amy turned to look at her.

"I don't know." The black girl started biting on her bottom lip. "I wouldn't mind having my dad on top of me again. I'm getting hot just thinking about it."

"Pool party at Rochelle's house?" Heather suggested. "Or dance party at my house?"

"You mean right now?" Rochelle asked. "As in right now?"

"Well, yeah." Heather nodded. "You've got your practice tomorrow afternoon. I don't want you to miss out on all the fun if Amy and I set something up for tomorrow. Amy, are you down for this?"

"You know I am." The blonde replied. "Except for one little problem."

"What's that?"

"Your little dance party and Rochelle's little pool party, what's the challenge in that? You're just repeating what's already been done. You guys get an F for originality."

"You got a better idea?"

Amy thought this over for a couple of minutes. After this, her head swung back to view both of her friends. There was a very wicked twinge in her eye.

"Bitch, you're up to something." Heather said. 'I know you are!"

Amy smiled. "I guess I do have an idea."

Tom made a right turn on Orange Avenue, briefly scanning the landscaping and architecture of what was probably the most well known hotel in that part of the state. He'd driven over forty-five minutes to get there. He was just as bewildered now that he'd arrived at this destination as he'd been when he first left the house.

Tom checked the clock on the dash, noting that it was well past eight now. Although the main drag behind him was still teeming with traffic, the street he'd turned onto was nowhere near as busy. With plenty of parking to choose from, he pulled his truck up next to the curb and shut the engine off.

"What am I doing here, Heather?" Tom mumbled, to no one in particular since he'd driven all that way alone.

He turned on the interior light and checked himself in the sliver of a mirror embedded into the driver's side sun visor. His hair looked good, his face looked good. This done, Tom checked the rest of his attire. Heather had told him exactly what to wear earlier. This consisted of a brown leather jacket that always made him want to swagger around like a big shot, a button-up shirt in a strong blue, and tan slacks. The top couple of buttons he'd left open. For jewelry he wore a silver necklace with his old dog tags, also silver-plated at his expense, plus a silver Rolex watch he'd once won at a raffle at the casino, and two rings, both silver and neither one on his wedding ring finger.

"You're looking studly, Tom." He grinned, as he exited his truck.

The streetlights were few and far between with long stretches of darkness among them. Tom started a slow stroll down the lonely sidewalk. He passed one solitary concrete bench, as he'd been told to, and kept walking until he reached the second. He was supposed to meet a man there. Sure enough, he soon saw the head and shoulders of a seated figure.

"I'm looking for someone named Spencer?" Tom announced.

"And you've found him." The man stood up. "You must be Tom."

"At your service."

Spencer left the bench to greet Tom with a handshake. They were close enough to the fuzzy glare of a light that Tom got a good look at this new guy. Spencer was a black man, a little thick in the shoulders and chest, and with a bald head. The man wore a long, black overcoat. Under that he had a black button-up shirt and black slacks. Spencer had his own jewelry, necklace, watch and rings, just like Tom did, but Spencer's accessories were made of gold.

"I have to ask you a question, Tom." Spencer said. "You don't usually dress that way, do you?"

"Not at all." Tom chuckled. "I'm just a regular guy. I was told to wear everything I have on right now, down to my socks and my shoes."

"Yeah, same here." Spencer considered his own apparel. "Okay, so if you take into account what we're wearing right now, and if you were Joe Blow standing across the street looking at us, what kind of people would he assume we are?"

"Well, if this was the casino and we were dressed like this, I'd say we were just a step or two below high-rollers." Tom mused. "Definitely above the low-rollers and the mid-rollers, but not quite at the level of big-ballers."

"I was thinking along the lines of high class pimp, myself. Just so we have things straight, I got a call from my daughter a couple of hours ago. She told me to grab these clothes that I'm wearing and put them in the trunk of my car. She said I was to make an excuse to my wife so I could leave the house, and to get in my car and drive out of town. I had to pull over at a gas station, which I did, and that's where I changed my clothes. Then I made my way to this here hotel. I tried to ask more questions about all this spy business, but I didn't get any answers. All I was told was to wait on the second bench until someone named Tom showed up. Is that about the same story with you?"

"That's exactly it." Tom nodded. "I had a hell of a time sneaking this outfit into my truck, I'll tell you that. My wife almost made it so I couldn't leave the house, but my daughter said that it was crucial that I keep to her instructions. My daughter's been acting really weird the last couple of weeks."

"In what way?" Spencer asked.

The two men looked at each other for a very long moment, as each of them suspected the other might be holding back a very controversial secret.

"Somebody's coming." Spencer noticed, causing both men to glance down the sidewalk and in the general direction of the hotel.

The figure was much smaller than either of them, but they couldn't make out anything further than a slow walk until the form made it to the glow of the streetlight. Both men felt their bodies tense up, not because of some ill feeling, but because the person who stepped into the light was a short and beautiful blonde. Her hair was wavy and came down to her shoulders. Her make-up was sexy and provocative, but not quite heavy enough for the woman to look like an outright hussy. The blonde's dress was both elegant and sexy. The two men glanced at one another as the classy woman halted only a couple of feet away from them.

"Hello, Tom." She said. "Hello, Spencer."

"Do I know you?" Tom asked, as something seemed familiar about her.

"You did last week, when I spread my legs for you on your couch."

"Amy?" Tom looked bewildered. "Is that you? You look like a whole different person! The last time I saw you, you were dressed like a schoolgirl and you had your hair in pigtails! You're like a total blonde bombshell right now!"

"Pigtails, huh?" Spencer asked, as he tried not to gawk at the girl like Tom was doing.

"This is called the Night Of Illusions." Amy explained. "There is the familiar and there is the unfamiliar. Tonight the two things will merge and become as one. There are rules to this game, but before I tell you the rules of the game, I want to tell you about my dress. Are you ready to listen?"

"Yeah, okay." Tom nodded. "This ought to be interesting."

"Where's my daughter?" Spencer asked.

"You are not allowed to ask that question." Amy replied. "You are not allowed to ask any questions. You are only allowed to answer my questions and to speak when you are spoken to. This is necessary because there will be witnesses where we are going. If any person observes us, they will not remember the reality but they will remember the illusion. Do you understand this?"

"Yeah, I think so." Spencer said. "I don't quite get it, but okay."

"No, even from this starting point you must play your part. You are already the illusion. When you reply, you will reply with confidence. You are both men who are accustomed to having your way with women. You are both alpha males. You are not nervous and you do not hesitate. When you are provoked, you will respond with authority. You are not to be questioned because you are powerful men. You are both strong and quiet. You enjoy observing when cats, such as I, come to you and drape our selves all over your bodies. You have a lot of money, and us cats want that money. This is the impression that observers must see. Do you understand this?"

This time, and more gruffly, Spencer said, "Yes."

Amy stepped closer to them both, tilting her head to the side, and looking as alluring as ever. "I don't have a name, because men like you don't care about names. I will be the called the yellow cat, or you can just call me cat. There is also a sandy cat and a black cat. We will tease you and you will sit there and watch. You will not say a word unless we ask you to. Do both of you understand this?"

"Yes." Both men said.

Amy turned toward Tom. Unexpectedly, she reached up and slapped him across the face.

Reflexively, Tom's hand went to his face. The man looked stunned for a moment.

"Wrong reaction." Amy said. "If I slap you in front of someone, you are to shake it off and laugh at me, because a cat has little power against a strong man like you. You can be perceived as a violent man, for the sake of maintaining the illusion. You will not be violent toward your cats, because we are your playthings and you don't wish to damage us. Do you understand this?"

"Yes." Tom nodded.

She moved before Spencer. "Do I need to repeat this action for you?"

Spencer considered this. He looked over at Tom, figuring the man was just as thrown off by what was going on as he was. He would need some way to reinforce the idea that he was going into some kind of character or charade, or else he might blurt something out that might give away his identity to anyone that might be listening. Apparently, that was a bad thing for people to figure out in this situation. He said, "You'd better give me two slaps."

He got them.

"I understand I am not to speak, but I'd like to say something to Tom." Spencer requested.