For My Master by Suz deMello

Chapter One
     
    Station chief Ross Guerrero tapped a pencil on his blotter
and scrutinized Kathie Belmont, seated on a straight-backed chair on the other
side of his wide, government-issue desk. A soft-faced young woman, she had the
healthy good looks of a college student or a California beach cutie, common
here in San Diego. Her mink-brown hair with tasteful gold highlights was blunt
cut at her chin, masking a strong jawline. Wide, long-lashed eyes regarded Ross
with openness and candor.
    With multiple piercings in each ear and a silver toe ring
peeping from her sandal, she looked like any girl attending San Diego State,
UCSD or even Chula Vista High. In reality, Belmont was twenty-nine years old,
had graduated with honors in criminal justice from Pepperdine, then gone on to
a short but successful career as a police officer in Los Angeles. She’d joined the
U.S. Security Agency, performing well during training and in her first
assignments. Now he’d find out if she was ready for more demanding tasks.
    Her appearance was as useful as her black belt and her
Glock. Living proof of the maxim “you can’t judge a book by its cover,” Agent
Belmont, who’d been orphaned as a teen, had capably cared for her two younger
siblings, fighting to keep her family together. She was as competent an
operative as any he’d encountered during his thirteen years with the agency.
    “Here’s the situation.” Ross set his china espresso cup into
its saucer with a click. “There’s a group of baddies selling drugs just over
the border. Mostly steroids, but some crystal, crack, horse…you name it,
they’ve got it. Because they’re in Mexico, the usual law enforcement agencies
can’t go in.”
    Her hazel eyes gleamed. “But we can.”
    “Yes, we can. But there’s a twist.”
    She shrugged tanned shoulders, revealed by her sleeveless
pink blouse. “Isn’t there always?”
    “They run their drugs and whores out of a party house.” He
eyed her, wondering if she was up for the job. “An orgy house.”
    Her brows lifted. “They still exist in the age of AIDS?”
    “They do. This one is in a chi-chi area called the Zona Rio,
on the south side of the Tijuana River.” He paused, tapping the pencil on the
blotter. “I can’t go in without a woman.”
    She cleared her throat. “Exactly what would this mission
entail, sir?” Her voice was crisp and professional.
    Even so, Ross noted the signs of nervous excitement. A
slight sheen of perspiration between her breasts, where their tops were
displayed by the scooped neck of her shirt. She fiddled with her hair and
didn’t meet his eyes. She crossed her suntanned knees, exposed by a blue denim
miniskirt, then recrossed them, giving him a brief glimpse of pink panties. His
pulse jumped. Had she intended to flash him?
    He cleared his throat. “They won’t know you understand
Spanish,” he continued. “You’d listen as well as watch my back. This is a group
of evil bastards with absolutely no morals. They’re even selling steroids to
minors, school kids with a dream of getting out of the slums as athletes.”
    Her lips firmed. “Let’s get ‘em, sir.”
    “Your life could depend upon unswerving obedience to
protocol. Truthfully, Belmont, I’m not sure you can do it.”
    She bristled. “Why not?”
    “The second-in-command is a, uh, rather unusual woman. A
Dominant in a country of submissive females. To impress her, I’d accompany you
as your submissive. Your…slave.”
    Her elegant jaw dropped. “You’re shittin’ me.”
    He wagged a finger at her. “Language, young lady.”
    “Pardon me, sir.” She shut her mouth with an audible snap,
then said, “Is this plan sanctioned by HQ?”
    He evaded the question, saying, “You know that they give me
considerable latitude.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “In other words, no, but you think you
can get away with it.”
    He smiled.
    “Why me?” Her intelligent gaze shone from a face vivid with
curiosity.
    “You’re smart and