Gunrunners, Computer Nerds & Rock'n'Roll, a Romance fanfic

Gunrunners, Computer Geeks & Rock’n’Roll

Chapter 1

"You son of a bitch, you owe me 250 million, and if I don't get them in three days, I'll mess you up so bad that even your mom won't recognise you."

This - is Blake Cohen.

Welcome to her life.

I don't personally know her, but I know quite a lot about her.

Who am I ?

A computer geek working my ass off for the CIA.

But at the end of the day, who really cares ?

What's driving them crazy right now is Blake.

Why ?

Blake, when - or rather if - you cross her in the street is just a 20 year old girl.

She's rather short - women that size would say 'petite' - not any higher than 1m65.

She weighs a little more than 40 kgs, with a nice ass and small, perfectly proportioned breasts.

She has naturally tanned skin, long, dark brown hair, green eyes, high cheekbones and a small yet full, pink mouth.

Blake Cohen is very cute.

And she's one of the most important arms dealer known today.

The only problem is that no one can stop her.

Not even us.

We don't have. a. single. valid. proof.

She's evil.

She's brilliant.

We've been more or less watching her since 2 years, when we linked her to Sierra Leone's government's purchase of 90 million worth in armament.

Rumours claim that she's been doing that since 3 years.

But we have no proof.

We honestly don't even know where the 90 million went.

They just vanished.

Three months later, we linked her to Sierra Leone's revolutionary forces' purchase of armament.

Same weapons.

That actually made me laugh.

No idea where the money went, either.

What was she doing during that time ?

Studying African culture throughout the continent during summer break.

She started university at the age of 17, anthropology, to be precise.

So basically, she had a good reason to be there.

And to piss us off even more, she wasn't even in Sierra Leone when the deal was done.

She was in fucking Nigeria building fucking houses.

Six months later, she was stopped at the Singapore International Airport by local authorities.

They wouldn't handle her to us.

This frankly didn't upset us that much - Singapore laws are much harsher, and death penalty more common.

They could deal with her.

The airport surveillance videos are in my top-5 best ever movies.

The electric doors opened, and out she came.

Wearing one of her usual 10 cm healed pair of shoes, black leggings, mini black shorts, a NYPD sweatshirt and an oversized leather handbag.

She would've looked like a normal tourist if she didn't look like a top model on a catwalk.

The security didn't even ask her to stop - just slammed her face first against the nearest wall and secured her hands.

Blake just rolled her eyes and let herself be pushed in a police car.

48 hours in custody, approximately 36 hours of interrogation, 3 highly ranked Singaporean officers going berserk later, she was released.

Sent back to the US, ticket fully paid, with compensation because the idiots broke her nose and a couple ribs.

Blake didn't even look that bothered.

She declared to a scandalised press in JFK that she was unjustly arrested and forbidden to enter Singaporean territory for the next 50 years to come, and that it sucked coz she loved Sentosa Island’s Café del Mar.

They found no weapons - although it was quite obvious she wouldn't be carrying any - and after raiding her laptop, found nothing.

That same day, 370 million worth of armament was dispatched throughout South-Eastern Asia.

We don't have a fucking clue where that money went.

Again.

Last year, Colombia was the happy owner of 175 million worth of guns & ammunition.

After Africa, Blake Cohen had chosen to study Latin American culture.

No way to incriminate her.

No idea where the money disappeared.

Do you start getting where I'm going ?

"Cassidy, you up for a cigarette ?"

I jump slightly in my chair, startled by my boss' sudden approach.

It's unbearably hot outside I'm not that much of a smoker.

The problem is that Maxine Parker is not someone you mess with.

She looks down at me from her 1m79.

I'm cornered.

"Err, sure, why not ?" I answer with my best shit-eating smile.

I follow her out of my cubicle, through the long corridors, in the two elevators, and finally out the door which leads to the smokers' patio.

As I said, it's motherfucking Sahara out here.

"Why do you need me here ?" I ask tentatively once she lights her cigarette.

"It looks less like an interrogatory this way," she says matter-of-factly, inhaling tobacco.

I raise an eyebrow, not sure of what to think.

"You're single, right ?" She states casually.

Oh please.

No.

Don't let her ask me out.

Please.

I don't want to date a monster, and have to coz she's my boss.

She must read my terror, because she snorts.

"Relax, kid, I'm not interested in you."

I let out a genuinely relieved sigh.

She doesn't looked to impressed at my attitude and stares at me with her dark blue eyes.

I guess she could be considered attractive by some types of men – certainly not me, she’s way too scary.

She has ear-length dark brown hair, a straight fringe, pale skin, blue eyes and is always wearing very red lipstick.

"Then yeah...I'm pretty much single," I answer, a little more shyly than I'd like to.

"So basically, there's no one waiting for you when you come from, no one desperately needing your presence in D.C ?"

"Errr," I hesitate, not knowing where she's heading. "No ?"

"Good. Do you work a lot here ?"

All fucking day.

"Yes."

"How many hours per day, grossly ?"

"Fourteen, maybe fifteen," I answer, increasingly suspicious.

"Perfect !" She exclaims, looking delighted - this freaks me out to no end. "Then you have no life."

"W-What ?!" I choke out. How dare she ?!

"Cassidy, you spend your time working your ass off. You don't talk to your collegues, you don't flirt back with the gi - wait, are you gay ?"

"No !" I quickly answer, defending my last scrap of dignity.

The last thing I need is some rumour going around saying that I'm gay.

"Good. No need to get so defensive. Whatever. You have no social life whatsoever. Right ?"

I take a minute to think about it.

I do have a social life, thank you very much.

It's rather limited, to be honest.

I've miraculously managed to stay interesting enough for my childhood friend Jen, who lives two blocks away from my place.

Our geographical proximity, however, doesn't make us see each often.

Same with Derek Brandon, who works here.

Not the same department, though. He works undercover, and I've met him last year, after he came back from a two-year mission from Colombia.

He's quite a kamikaze, enjoying way too much his little escapades with drug dealers in South America.

He's way too handsome for his own good, and gets all the girls he wants.

I guess that the shoulder holster he wears over his shirts helps a little - why are girls always falling for the bad guy ?

Anyway. That's not the point.

As Maxine pointed out, I have no social life whatsoever.

My last serious girlfriend ditched me over a year ago, and I've made no effort to get a new girl.

And her leaving me left me quite relieved.

She was such an egocentric bitch.

"Yeah," I answer finally, with a fake perky voice. "I have no social life. Is that a problem ?"

"No, it's very convenient. Congratulations Parker, you've been promoted. Be in my office in half an hour."

She crushed her cigarette under her stilettos, pats my shoulder and with a smirk, she leaves me outside, completely dumbstruck.

What the fuck ?

Half an hour later, I knock hesitantly on her office door.

I have this recurrent dream in her office where she kills me with nylon string.

She opens the door and smiles at me.

I hate the demoniac gleam in her eyes.

"Come in," she drawls, and I swear, I'm scared.

A look around her large, minimalist office makes me relax.

Sitting casually on a chair, his arms crossed in front of his chest, is Derek, looking excited.

There's another man I don't know who doesn't even look up from the files he's reading.

The last guy is one of the psychologists. I've seen him a couple times when the agency recruited me. Dr. Williams, I think. I take the last unoccupied seat and look expectantly at Derek.

"This, if you haven't already met, is Cassidy Stone" explains Maxine.

The guy I don't know looks up from his readings and nods.

There's a silence where they all look at each other, turn their focus on me, and then look at each other.

"What's going on here ?" I ask, getting slightly irritated at their silent conversation.

"Stone, we've been checking the psychological profiles of all the free agents and employees of the agency," starts Maxine.

Am I in trouble ?

"And you correspond exactly to the profile we've been looking for," continues Dr. Williams.

"What are you expecting me to do ?" I ask suspiciously.

If it's working extra hours, they can stick it up their asses.

Derek's face breaks into the largest grin I've ever seen.

He sits up and rests his two elbows on the table.

"To go out with Blake Cohen," he chuckles, adding a wink.

"Brandon, stop messing around," warns Maxine, and Derek just rolls his eyes. She turns to me. "What Brandon stupidly blurted out, is that we need you to approach Blake Cohen. And if possible - err create some kind of intimate relationship with her, or at least find a way to bug her place and discover as much information as possible."

I stare at her, eyes wide opened, my brain refusing to understand what's been said.

Go out with Blake Cohen ?

The gunrunner ?

Are they kidding me ?

"Ma'am, this is not my area. I wouldn't know how to -"

"Psht. I won't hear a word. We have already tried with other agents. It failed. Thrice.” She coughs slightly, looking embarrassed. “According to the data we have on Blake Cohen, you are the type of guy she could get attached to. You are absolutely not threatening, you're not a playboy, you look completely loyal and committed - exactly what an individual with Cohen's activities would look for."

Wow. She surely knows how to reassure my self-esteem.

"I'm sorry, but are you sure you're not mistaken ?" I ask in disbelief. "A girl like that, doing a high risk job, should normally look for...someone more like Derek, I guess." I wave my arm towards my friend.

"It's not your job to figure that out," points out Dr. Williams. "And you are in no way a perfect match for Cohen. You'll still need to work on it. This is where Brandon will help."

"You have a month to get ready," explains Maxine. "You'll be transferred to New York as a post-grad student at Columbia's school of the Arts. So practice that geeky, nerdy attitude you have all day. You're an artist, kid."

Her computer beeps as she receives a new mail.

"I have a meeting. Set up a meeting with Dr. Williams here so you can talk about Cohen's psychological profile. Brandon will fill you up if you have any other questions. Have fun."

Derek stands up, clearly happy that this reunion is over, and probably glad that he'll be able to tease me about all the shit that's happening to me.

I suddenly realise that she didn't even ask me if I accepted the mission.

Am I not supposed to agree, first ?

"Err -" I start, wanting to protest.

There's no way anybody's making me date a girl that crazy.

Maxine looks up from her computer.

"You wanna be fired, kid ?" She asks sharply, as if knowing what I'm about to say.

I gasp, spin on my heels, and exit the room as quick as possible.

"Come to my office tomorrow at ten, son," says Dr. Williams, leaving me no choice whatsoever.

I'm such a victim.

Life is unfair.

I sigh.

"Hey, lighten up, Cass, it's not that bad," soothes Derek, patting my shoulder.

I just grunt and walk away.

This is one of the numerous days in my life where I should've stayed in bed.

"Tuh, tuh, tuh, you're not a computer nerd anymore," Derek's voice follows me. "I really don't know how a chick like Blake Cohen could be interested in you, but man, you're lucky !"

"Thanks," I say with the most sarcasm I can muster. "You clearly are a supportive person."

I walk off, deciding that I need caffeine real bad.

He follows me.

"Cassidy ! It's your chance to get a little action ! Broaden your horizons. And you've been on the case too, since over 18 months. Don't you want it to be over, too ?"

I sigh.

"Yeah, I do. But from behind my computer, it was perfect."

"You have no idea how amazing infiltration is," he says, a dreamy tone in his voice. "Honestly, you're doing a safe job. That's why they gave it to you. So relax. And I'll be here 24/7 if you have any problem."

"Thanks," I mutter.

I reach the coffee machine, and even if the coffee is gross, it'll hopefully get my mind off things for at least five minutes.

Maybe I could start smoking.

And drinking.

"And the best part is," adds Derek with a mischievous tone in his voice, while I take my first sip of coffee. "When you come back, you're a hero, and you'll be much more confident. Perhaps then, you'll finally give in to one of the girls harassing you all day long."

I choke on my drink.

"W-What ? Who ?!"

He just laughs.

"You're such a geek. Please tell me that you've noticed that at least half of the girls of this department have been hitting on you since you’ve arrived."

I just laugh.

"Yeah. But I had to turn them down coz there's Penelope Cruz waiting for me at home," I mutter sardonically.

It's his turn to laugh.

"Stone, if I were a girl, I'd totally do you," he deadpans. "Talk to you when you're in a better mood."

And with that, he just walks off.

There's something in the air today, and I'm the only one who hasn't been affected.

Hopefully, when I come in tomorrow morning, they'll have forgotten about everything.

TBC

Okay…! This is the first story I’m writing in English. Good or bad, please tell me what you think, at least for this first chapter! Thanks!