Black Dahlia

Chronicles of the Black Dahlia Note: Character derived from The Wingman Series by Michael Davis, WC writer. Recommend reading at www.chanceransom.com

Belize. I think that would be a good place to retire. A beach, a Mai Tai and a cabana boy.

 

I think I’ll put my papers in tomorrow. Sure beats Manhattan in November.

 

I sip my latte, looking out the window from the café chair inside the Bean Hut. It’s a dreary morning and a warm cup feels good in my hand. My cell phone rings. I look at the number, before picking up. It’s The Caller.

 

“Yes”

 

“You have an assignment.”

 

“When?”

 

“Tomorrow and it’s a big one.”  Great, so much for putting my papers in.

 

“When’s the drop?”

 

“Two minutes, outside, yellow coat.” The Caller hangs up.

 

I grab a newspaper, my latte and head out the door. I spot her. Yellow coat in Manhattan?  Must be a newbie.

 

She approaches, I drop the newspaper. She bends down to feign help. The exchange is made. She walks towards the Bean Hut and enters, as I walk away and cross the street at the next corner.

 

You never look at the dossier in the open, too risky, so I hurry up to my flat that’s near by.

 

The doorman holds open the door for me and I catch the elevator across the way. I push the button for the fifth floor. Never live on a floor where you can’t run down the stairs to escape. Thirteen flights are too much for me, especially in stilettos.

 

I open the door to my flat and quickly shut it behind me. I throw my keys and sunglasses in the basket on the marble entry table. I don’t bother taking my coat off, I just head to my desk.

 

I start up my lap top, place my cell down and open the dossier. I can’t believe my eyes. The Caller was right. This assignment was big, probably the biggest one of my life.

 

Just as I start to peruse the contents, the cell rings again. I pick up.

 

“Agent 6696, you have been assigned the Pariski case. Your spotters will be in contact at 15:00 today. Be ready.” That’s all The Caller says.

 

I’m a Guardian, this is my life.

 

 ***********************************************************************

 

My name is Elizabeth Montenegro, Agent 6696, code name Black Dahlia.

 

I work for L’ordre du Gardien or the Order of the Guardian. It’s been around since 1959.

 

I want to make one thing clear I am not a wingwoman or whatever you want to call them. I am Guardian. My job is to save women from being pursued by unsavory bombardiers. I run a covert operation against the wingman.

 

This isn’t a profession I chose, but rather it chose me. It all started in 1989.

 

I was with my gal pals, clubbing. When we ended up at the Cyclonic, Maria was pretty inebriated. We all were a little tipsy for that matter, but Maria was an easy mark, too loud and liked her skirts short, you know the kind, always wanting to be at the center. We sat at one of those long tables with the barstools, the kind that lets you expose as much leg as possible. It surrounded the dance floor so one could watch the action. Maria and I were on the end side. The rest were in the middle of the dance floor. Maria and I were holding our spot from encroachers, when it happened.

 

The wingman showed up. He was French, or at least he pretended to be. He introduced himself as Edgar. He was smooth, already chatting me up, but I was onto him. He might have been smooth but his bombardier was not.

 

Maria was too far gone to realize what was going on, but I wasn’t. Edgar’s sweaty, slightly overweight frat boy was trying to make a play. I needed to save her from a two bagger night, not to mention her reputation.

 

I made the motion of tucking my hair behind my right ear. The crew from the dance floor caught the signal and made their way back to our spot. Clearly out numbered, the wingman faded back away into the crowd, taking his bombardier with him.

 

The waitress came by to deliver drinks. Before she left she handed me a card.

 

Meeting in the Ladies Room, ten minutes

 

When I looked up to inquire about it, the waitress was gone. Curious, I excused myself from the group and headed to the powder room.

 

“That was quite impressive for a novice.” I heard upon my entrance. It was the waitress.

 

“What do mean?,” I responded, she motioned me to the far wall, away from the others.

 

“Your Escort abilities,” she said in low whisper.

 

“Escort abilities? What are you talking about?”

 

She seemed puzzled, “You are with L’ordre du Gardien aren’t you?”

I shook my head no in response.

 

Shocked, she said, “My mistake.” She turned to leave, but intrigued I grab her arm.

 

“Wait, what is the L’ordre du Gardien?”

 

She looked around, almost expecting to see someone.

 

“We can’t talk here. Can you meet me at the Bean House around ten am tomorrow?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good, I’ll meet you then. Now hurry before your friends wonder where you went.”

 

 

 

 

I was at the Bean Hut at 9:55a.m. I like to be punctual. I spotted her sitting in the corner. She looked a lot different than her outfit from last night.

 

Black trench, Jackie O style sunglasses and her hair up in a French twist, and oh, red lipstick.

 

“Wow, I almost didn’t recognize you. By the way, I’m Elizabeth,” I offered as I sat in the chair opposite to her.

 

“I know, Elizabeth Montenegro. I’m Gieselle. I was working undercover last night,” she smiled as she lifted her coffee to her lips.

 

“Undercover?”

 

“Yes, do you have any idea who you thwarted last night?”

 

Thoroughly confused, I shook my head no.

 

“Only the best wingman La Confrerie has to offer.”

 

“Who?” I knew I was a little foggy from the previous night’s partaking, but none of it was sinking in.

 

It was then that Gieselle went on to explain the La Confrerie Fraternelle de Wingmen and the one called Edgar the Frenchman.

 

Gieselle leaned in and whispered, “It was spectacular what you did. I was there to counter attack, but found a new protégé instead.”

 

“Protégé? Me?”

 

“Yes, you are a natural for the Order.”

 

“What Order?”

 

“The Order of the Guardian, we could use your talent. I can get you up and running in six months.”

 

“Ooookay, but again what is the Order?”

 

Gieselle just laughed. A deep throaty laugh that I’m sure no wingman would be able to resist.

 

“The Order is committed to ensure the reputation of a woman in their care.”

 

Gieselle divulged she had been with the Order for nine years and how much she made.

 

“Are you in?”

 

“I’m in.”

 

 

 To Be Continued.......

 

 

Author's Note

Thanks Jet for your input!

Reviews

[Jet Lag]

very nice flow! i love the directness of this. no long sentences to slow us down. the writing style suits the theme and helps support the mood.

a few suggestions:
too risky
tipsy
"Place a comma at the end of dialogue when you will add a tag," Jet Lag said.

i tried to read this last night when it came up on the new writing page, but it wouldn't let me.

great job!

[Legion]

Found it.

LOL This is subliminally funny. Never would have thought of a "counter" to the wingman. I can see that a certain reviewer didn't really get it. This could be the start of something really hilarious. Great work. And from a wingman's point of view, a challenge to meet. lol Kudos.

[Anne Martin]

I like the idea of this, but I'm worried that the idea might be too tame. I suppose it depends on your plans and how you work it out. Maintaining a woman's "reputation" seems Victorian to me, rather than 20th or 21st century.

The writing itself is a little skeletal. You cram a lot of information into a small space. Rather than stepping out of character, you might consider fleshing out Elizabeth's recruitment in more detail in a prologue. Then you wouldn't have to spend so much time bringing us up to speed for her latest assignment in the first chapter. At this point it is light on detail. I'm not so concerned with the description of the marble entry table, but we don't really get the tension of the drop, or the phone calls. (BTW, a spy wouldn't discuss important information over a cellphone. It's easily tapped.) This is akin to a spy drama, where you can't ever give the impression of relaxation. A "spy" must always be on the lookout for his adversaries, must take different routes to drops, never frequent the same restaurant for 20 years, and never open a dossier in one's own home. Where is she? New York? San Francisco? New Orleans? Telling us would help us visualize the scene.

Give us more and as you do it, consider the timing. The slower something is described, the more tension there is.

Leaving the Bean Hut, I scanned for a yellow coat. I was right that she was a newbie. Her yellow leather jacket seemed so sixties, as did her mini-skirt and Raybans. I cringed as she looked right at me, especially since I hadn't yet checked whether I was being watched. She was already walking towards me - the man in the long black coat reading the paper - maybe. The Latino sitting on the stoop two doors down. It was too dangerous, and I was afraid she was about to drop me right in it. She would blow her cover, too, but it was too late, as she walked ever closer. I needed that dossier. As she came in range, I purposely fumbled my newspaper. She stooped over to help me pick it up, discreetly slipping the dossier between my pages. I thanked her, looked around, and as casually as I could, walked home. The Latino was gone. Either my contact or I were in deep s**t. Perhaps both of us.

See what I mean. Stretch out the dramatic points. I think the scene in the club required a lot more detail as well. I'm still not sure what she did to scare off the Wingman.

You've got enough material here for 3-4 chapters. Don't skimp.

[Chillbear Latrigue]

I may be a bit prejudiced, but this is outstanding. I think you have captured the mood of the espionage sexual game that makes up the Art of Winging. I have no criticism. Only praise. More, please!

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Ahhh yes fate has a funny way of shaking up your life... a very nice introduction as you easy us into the character so we can get a feel for her... I know I will be reading more.

[~amanda~]

write more! write more! i am already invested in your characters, and i cant wait for the next installment! i love the film noir/ spy thriller feel, this is great... thank you for sharing!