Destiny Calls Chapter 3:- Psyching Out the Mob
Posted: Sun Sep 06, 2026 11:12 pm
In the 4 days since her infiltration of Michaelson's Cannery, Destiny has not been idle. Her latest mission for Athena sees her testing the security of New York's JFK International Airport, by planting a dummy bomb on a flight. Afterwards, Destiny meets up with her old Army friend and NYPD Detective Sergeant James ‘Jimmy’ O'Rourke for a drink at the Drunk Leprechaun pub in Brooklyn. Jimmy soon asks her help in bending a mafia Lieutenant to become an informant for the NYPD…
Terminal 4, JFK International Airport, Queens, New York, Friday 19th April 2026, 11:00am
“Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away…’ Destiny sang under her breath as the soft, dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra crooned in her ears. She stood outside the bustling terminal 4, reviewing her latest audit for Athena. They had been hired by the Airport to test security by finding a way to plant a dummy bomb on an outbound flight.
Switching off her phone, Destiny strode into the terminal scanning her surroundings. First things first, I need a way past security. And for that I'll need a disguise, I won't get far dressed in my civvies… That's when two young Delta Airways stewardesses walked past her towards the security scanners, their trolley bags trailing behind them. She grinned, an idea forming in her mind. Perfect, I always wanted to be a stewardess. I'll steal a stewardess's uniform. I can conceal the package in the trolley bag, and flutter my eyelashes and use the uniform to get past security. I just need to get one on her own and put her to sleep. Perhaps the bathroom…
She looked towards the restrooms and saw a pretty blonde Virgin Atlantic stewardess approach the women's bathroom. The girl was classically beautiful; she had squared slightly tanned aquiline features, high cheekbones and big blue doe shaped eyes, her shiny strawberry blonde hair was tied into an elegant bun at the base of her neck. Destiny put her age at around the mid twenties. The woman was dressed in a red blazer, with matching skirt and heels. On the right breast was pinned a set of flight wings and nametag that Destiny couldn't read at this distance. Around her neck was tied a blue neckerchief and underneath her blazer was a white blouse. Looped over her right shoulder was a black leather handbag, and she was pulling a grey trolley bag behind her. On her left wrist was an expensive gold plated dress watch.
“You are just my size…” Destiny said under her breath as she watched the pretty blonde saunter into the bathroom. Grinning, she followed the stewardess inside.
Women's Bathroom, Terminal 4, 11:15am
Entering the restroom, Destiny found the blonde stewardess busily applying her red lipstick, handbag open on the row of sinks. She glanced at the nametag on the woman's uniform Dana? Pretty name for a gorgeous woman. Too bad that uniform is going to be mine real soon… She thought flashing the stewardess a suggestive smile, and was pleasantly surprised to be returned one.
She pretended to enter the cubicle behind the unsuspecting stewardess. After opening the cubicle door, Destiny struck without warning like a thunderbolt keeping her profile low and using the blonde's own reflection in the mirror against her.
Muffling the blonde's cry of surprise, Destiny clamped a hand around her mouth, dragging the struggling stewardess into the cubicle. With her other hand, she gripped the woman's throat, below her neckerchief and with a finger thumb on either side, above the vagus nerve and pinched.
Dana let out a low muffled aroused moan, her big blues rolling back into her skull as she slumped unconscious in Destiny's grip. She lowered the stewardess onto the toilet bowl and turned to lock the door.
“I’m sorry…Dana.” Destiny said, reading the stewardesses nametag, “it looks like you won't be making your flight today, sweetie.” Smiling, she stripped out of her leather jacket, hoodie, jeans and boots.
Now standing in her navy underwear, Destiny got to work undressing Dana's limp form. She started by removing the stewardesses heels, and neckerchief before unfastening her uniform jacket. Peeling the jacket off the woman's slender shoulders, Destiny unbuttoned Dana's blouse getting a good glimpse of well B-cup breasts, emphasised by a white lace floral patterned demi bra with small pink ribbons on the straps and between the cups.
“That's why I love stewardesses,” Destiny quipped, taking a deep breath and getting a whiff of her expensive perfume, “so sexy and glamorous.” Reaching around to Dana's rear, she unzipped the pencil skirt, working the garment past the stewardesses hips and pulling it down her long legs, smothered by sheer nude coloured tights, under which was a white lace thong that matched her bra, complete with a pink ribbon above the gusset.
“Cute body, Dana,” Destiny complimented the unconscious woman, unbuttoning the rest of the stewardesses blouse and whipping it off her bare shoulders, “ and don't worry, you can keep your tights. I don't need them, honey.”
Admiring Dana's scantily clad form, Destiny quickly pulled on the stewardesses uniform, including the neckerchief, finding it a comfortable fit. “You know, something Dana?” Destiny loosened the stewardesses hair tie, adopting the bun. “Ever since I watched Pam Grier in Jackie Brown, I always wanted to be a stewardess. So thanks for the opportunity, babe.”
Taking her zip ties and tape from her rucksack, Destiny zip tied the blonde's wrists to the pipe connecting the water pipe to the cistern and her ankles and taped up her mouth.
She tapped the stewardess's cheek. “Thanks for the uniform, sweetie. Enjoy your nap…”
Laughing, she closed the cubicle, jimmied the lock and left Dana tied to the toilet. She secreted her package in the stewardesses trolley bag, and her ties and tape in the handbag.
As an afterthought, Destiny used Dana's makeup to look more the part of an international stewardess.
When she was finished she put the makeup bag into the purse and looped it over her shoulder.
Destiny grinned at her reflection, dressed in her stolen stewardess uniform. “That's right, I'm Jackie Brown.”
Chuckling to herself, she sauntered out of the bathroom, dragging Dana's trolley bag behind her.
JFK International Airport, Queens, New York, Terminal 4, 11:27am
Now disguised In Dana's uniform, Destiny approached security and bag screening, beyond that were the boarding gates and her ultimate target, the planes themselves. Glancing up at the departure timetables, she weighed up her next move. [/i] Having my bags searched is out of the question, I'll be made as soon as they scan the purse, let alone the trolley bag… [/i]
Ahead, she saw four security checkpoints each manned by a uniformed TES customs agent. The second from the left, a young sallow faced man with olive skin, brown eyes and short cropped dark black hair, looked bored and still had a few spots on his face. His expression read of a man who looked at two many suitcases and hadn't yet been on his break. This gave Destiny an idea. Kid looks bored stiff and fresh out of high school, looks like it's time to play the irritated stewardess. He won't know won't hit him . From the departure board, she selected Virgin Atlantic flight VA 6116 to Frankfurt, which left in just under 30 minutes, as her cover story.
Getting into line behind a young couple, Destiny hunched slightly and occasionally glanced at her stolen dress watch, bouncing irritably on her heels, to give the customs agent the impression of an irritated woman in a hurry. The occasional glances he shot her, told Destiny it was working.
Five minutes later, he had cleared the young couple and beckoned Destiny with a raised hand. “Next!”
Sighing audibly, Destiny glanced at the young man's nameplate which read “Di Matteo.”
“Ma’am? Please put your bags on the conveyor.” He said with a low Brooklyn drawl.
“Do you know what time it is, buddy?” Destiny snarled jutting out her chin irritably.
The agent, clearly not used to having what little authority he had challenged, reared back. “N-no ma'am,” he stammered before checking his watch. “It's…uh…11:38.”
Destiny breathed through her nose once and narrowed her eyes. “11:38, someone get the kid a medal. Well Officer Di Matteo, I've got a 13 hour red eye flight to Frankfurt that I’ve got to be on,” She folded her ams across her breasts, “and you are holding me back with your silly little searches.” She said in a low menacing voice, staring straight into the officers eyes.
Di Matteo blinked. “Ma'am, please. I'm just t-trying to do my job. He raised his hands placatingly.
“And you're stopping me from doing mine, idiot. Do you even know who I am?”
Di Matteo shook his head. Behind her, Destiny could hear sniggering from the queue.
“My name is Dana Harrelson, and I happen to be the head stewardess on flight VA6116. If you continue to hold me up, then you'll have to explain to Virgin Atlantic why over 600 passengers are seeking refunds. Because you held up the head stewardess!”
She stamped her foot angrily and added a little sassy swagger for effect.
The young customs officer opened and closed his mouth sheepishly. “Er, sorry ma'am. Please go on through and have a good flight.” He buzzed her through with a nervous smile, hoping that was the end of his ordeal.
Destiny let out a dramatic huff. “Finally, I thought you would never let me go,” She dragged Dana's trolley bag through the checkpoint.
She then turned around, throwing the officer a cheeky wave. “You have a nice day now, honey.” Chuckling, Destiny made her way to the boarding gate.
She found the boarding gate unmanned, and there was a small queue of bemused travellers forming. Destiny massaged her chin, contemplating her next move. I could always board the Frankfurt flight, but that wouldn't fit the whole non suicidal terrorist vibe. Besides, cabin crew all know each other and wearing another woman's uniform, whose name they happen to know, will invalidate the whole “I'm new” defence. I need a new plan…
She turned her gaze past the large terminal windows to the tarmac, towards the ground crew who scurried around like ants loading the Virgin Airbus with luggage. Destiny smiled, a plan forming in her mind. I'll get on the tarmac and find a way to plant the package. And for that, I'll need a ground crew disguise… Seeing a blue door to the left of the boarding desk marked ‘authorised personnel only,’ Destiny walked through it and came to a staircase that led down. Taking off her stolen heels, she lifted the trolley bag and proceeded down.
Terminal 4, Staff Only Areas, 11:39am
Destiny had reached the first landing of the dimly lit passage, when she heard the sound of male and female giggling and kissing.
She quickly proceeded down the stairs, sticking to the shadows and making as little noise as possible.
Stepping off the final step, Destiny noticed a man and woman leant up against the wall to her left, too busy engrossed in each other to notice her. The male, a blonde thirty something, was dressed in the uniform of a Virgin Atlantic steward Probably the guy who's supposed to be on the boarding gate. Destiny mused. While his slim, athletic partner was wearing the uniform of the airports ground crew. She rounded the staircase, hiding underneath to get a better look at the woman.
The woman was an attractive redhead, around 30 with freckled oval features, big green eyes and slender cheekbones, framed by shoulder length ginger hair. On closer inspection, the redhead wasn't just any ground crew but an Airport Operations Manager, judging by the black text on the back of her yellow high visibility vest. Underneath which she wore an unflattering navy blue jumpsuit with the airport's logo on the left breast and reflective strips below the knee and above the elbow, along with black laced steel toe-capped work boots. Around her neck were a pair of orange ear defenders with a microphone. There was also the hint of a tablet, tucked into the pocket of her hi vis vest.
Destiny couldn't help but feel melancholic as she watched the couple kiss, brief flashes of Tessa entered her mind but she buried them with thoughts of her job. Perfect, she's just my size and that uniform will open many doors, but I need to separate her from lover boy there first. And they look neck deep in each other. I guess I'll just have to wait them out…
“You know Teagan, one of these we are going to get caught.” Said Martin as he pulled out of the kiss, stroking Teagan's arms.
The redhead smiled, caressing his face. “I don't care about that Martin, we're both on our breaks so it's not like they can fire us.”
Martin laughed, shaking his head. “ I don't know, you're the Airport Operations Manager and saying such things. You're a bad influence; You know that right?”
Teagan giggled, kissing him on the cheek. Sighing, Martin reluctantly pulled out.
“Honey, as much as I like our trysts at work. I have to get back to work. There's probably a long queue at the boarding gate by now, so I have to get back to work.”
Teagan wanly smiled. “And I better get back to the tarmac before the crew goes on strike. They'll just fall apart without me.”
The couple shared one last kiss and hug before they parted, Destiny ducked behind the stairs as Martin turned to walk up the stairs.
“Oh and one more thing, babe?” Martin turned, stopping halfway up the stairs. “Are you going to book dinner for our date tonight or is it on me?”
Teagan grinned while taking out her tablet. “I'll book our usual table at Giuseppe's and pay for the food.” She blew her lover a kiss. “See you later, Marty. Enjoy the rest of your shift.”
As her lover disappeared back up the stairs, Teagan turned her back on the staircase, booting up her tablet.
Behind her, Destiny grinned. Now's my chance. Time to put her to sleep and take her uniform. And to teach her a valuable lesson not to slack off.. Stepping out from behind the stairs, she crouched low, creeping silently behind the unsuspecting, inattentive redhead.
Teagan never saw Destiny coming as she hummed a gentle tune while she typed the name of her and Martin’s favourite Brooklyn restaurant into her Google search bar.
Destiny struck with the speed of a rattlesnake; she coiled her right arm around the redhead's throat, squeezing gently and with her left hand pressed her head forward. Teagan let out a choked squeak of surprise, dropping her tablet to the floor.
The woman bucked and squirmed, her hands desperately gripping Destiny's arm in a futile attempt to pull the stronger woman off her. “Don't fight it, Teagan. You're only hurting herself, not me…” she whispered into the redhead's ear while squeezing her throat even tighter and pressing her head forward.
Feeling Teagan's struggles slacken off, Destiny doubled down, applying subtle pressure and with a rasping “uhhhh…” the redhead slumped unconscious into Destiny's arms. “That's a good girl…” She said, dragging Teagan's limp body under her shoulders and into the darkness under the staircase.
Laying the woman on her side, Destiny went back to retrieve Teagan’s tablet.
“Huh? Giuseppe's Italian Restaurant in Crown Heights?” She said switching the device off and walking back to Teagan. “They make great pizza…”
Kneeling next to Teagan's body, Destiny checked Teagan's photo ID clipped on the breast pocket of her high vis vest. “Teagan Matthews? Well sorry Teagan for ruining your date but there's always tomorrow. Now let's get you stripped, babe.”
She quickly stripped off Dana's Virgin Atlantic uniform and folded it to one side before turning her attention to the unconscious redhead.
Destiny began by removing Teagan's ear defenders and high vis vest before unlacing the workboots and pulling them off, along with her pink cotton, white lace trim ankle socks. Rolling the redhead onto her back, Destiny unzipped her jumpsuit revealing Teagan's pink with white lace trim camisole and matching bikini cut panties. The nipples of the redhead’s perky B-cup breasts peeking through the thin cotton of her camisole.
Destiny wolf whistled as she appreciated Teagan's slim, tight body. “Are these for Martin? Lucky bastard, well if you're lucky maybe he'll find you.” She said, pulling the jumpsuit from Teagan's slender shoulders and down her slender body leaving her dressed only in her girly pink underwear.
She stepped into the jumpsuit, zipping it up before she got dressed in the rest of Teagan's uniform. When she was finished, Destiny cable tied Teagan's wrists and ankles then cleave gagged her with the blue neckerchief.
Taking Teagan under her shoulders, Destiny dragged the unconscious woman deeper into the shadows, propping her body against the wall.
Stepping out into the dim artificial light, she secreted the package, duct tape, cable ties, and tablet into the stolen uniform. Destiny then made her way towards the nearest exit onto the tarmac, pushing the door open.
The Tarmac, JFK International Airport, 11:45am
The light of the sun hit Destiny's face in a flash, but she paid it no mind. Dressed in Teagan's uniform, she tucked the photo ID into the high vis vests breast pocket and slid
behind the wheel of an airport electric buggy.
Destiny switched on the tablet to find a layout of the airport, large dots in green marking flights that were being loaded and red ones marking those cleared for the runway. The nearest and south from her position caught her eye. “Virgin Atlantic flight VA 6116 to Frankfurt. Huh, how the stars align.” Igniting the buggy's small electric engine, Destiny snapped on the ear defenders and drove out onto the tarmac.
Not two minutes later, Destiny pulled up to find the VA Airbus being loaded with luggage via long conveyor lines. There were two young airport workers, one male the other female working the line. They stopped briefly nodding at Destiny's uniform before returning to their work.
Using the authority of her stolen uniform, Destiny ordered the two workers to fetch more luggage from the luggage bins, and using the distraction placed the package in between two large suitcases. Smiling as it disappeared into the bowels of the Airbus’ cargo hold.
Over the course of the next five minutes, Destiny supervised the loading of flight VA 6116 and even cleared the flight for takeoff. She then dismissed the workers back to the terminal.
Hopping back onto the buggy, Destiny took out her smartphone and called Preston.
“Boss? It's Destiny. Package delivered.”
Preston's deep voice answered her. “Great job, as always Des. I'm with the Airport Security Director, meet me in her office in the main terminal.”
Hanging up, she switched on the buggy's engine and drove towards the main terminal.
Office of the Airport Security Director, Main Terminal, JFK International Airport, 12:15pm
“I still can't believe you were let through security without a body check. Such a major breach in my security.” Helena Macmillan, a thin yet imposing 51 year old brunette, leant across her desk, tenting her fingers.
Now redressed in her leather jacket, hoodie, jeans and boots Destiny sat across from her. “With respect, ma’am, that TES agent was young and inexperienced,” she said crossing her legs, “I recommend that there should be two guards per security gate.”
Macmillan sighed, leaning back in her seat. “I'll take your recommendations under advisement Miss Harrelson. But it still doesn't erase the fact you were able to render two women unconscious and use their uniforms to bypass my security very effectively.” She stopped to light a cigarette, and paused to blow a stream of smoke out. “If you were an actual terrorist, those women would be dead and I would've been partially responsible for a major terrorist incident.”
Next to Destiny, Preston leant forward. “Mrs Macmillan. Athena is more than happy to provide any additional training to your staff.”
Macmillan took a long drag from her cigarette. “I think the Board of Directors might just take you up on that generous offer, Mr Sweetwater.” She then turned back to Destiny.
“Do you have any further recommendations, Miss Harrelson?”
Destiny looked at Preston and thought about Teagan and Martin’s tryst before answering.
“I would think about installing more CCTV and lighting in the staff only areas. That way you can keep track of all your staff.
Nodding, Macmillan finished her cigarette and stubbed it out in her ashtray.
“Thank you, Miss Harrelson, Mr Sweetwater. I'll take your recommendations into consideration. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an airport to run and two women in Terminal 4 that'll need to sign non-disclosure agreements.”
The Drunken Leprechaun Irish Pub, Crown Heights, Brooklyn, 19:25pm
“Desi! Good to see you, girl! How are things?” 34 year old Detective Sergeant James, or Jimmy, O'Rourke cried, grasping hands with Destiny. She could sense tension behind the words, and his smile didn't reach his eyes. He was a handsome man with genial features, high cheekbones and deep blue eyes, dark hair cropped short and wavy.
“Could be better, could be worse.” She replied, gripping his hand. Behind him perched on the barstool, was his young partner Detective Jennifer Chen, a pretty Chinese American with long brown hair, heart shaped features and slanted brown ears. She had merely huffed when Destiny had walked in.
Destiny had known Jimmy for 8 years, ever since they had been serving together in Afghanistan and he was her platoon Sergeant in 2nd platoon, Fox Company, 502nd PIR, 82nd Airborne. Their friendship was cemented when he saved her from a Taliban ambush, after Destiny had been shot in the shoulder. An event that had earned her a single purple heart, to go with her campaign citation and marksmanship badge. The two had kept in touch after mustering out and met up regularly for cards and drinks, whenever Jimmy's job permitted. Destiny was also best man at Jimmy's wedding to his sweetheart Kathy and was Godmother to their kids; 7 year old Sadie and 6 year old Jack, who called her ‘Auntie’ Destiny. Jimmy had been a Detective in Robbery Homicide for three years now.
Jimmy released his grip. “So Desi? What can I get you? Bourbon on the rocks? Or maybe a nice cold beer?”
Destiny slid into the empty stool beside him. “I will have a cold Budweiser.”
As Jimmy turned to order two beers from the overweight bartender, Frank, Destiny looked over to Jennifer. “Hey, Jennifer, how's life been treating you?”
The pretty Asian looked at her sidelong and shrugged. “I'm still dating my boyfriend if that's what you're asking, Harrelson.” She said with a voice that barely disguised her irritability.
Destiny felt the temperature drop by a degree. “I'm just trying to be civil, Jennifer, that's all.”
Jennifer nursed her tonic water. “I would prefer you kept your distance, Harrelson. You're not my type.”
Jimmy shot her an angry glance, as he handed Destiny her beer. “Knock it off, Chen and try to be friendly for once.” Again, she caught the same tension between the detectives.
Jennifer knocked back her tonic water, before fixing Jimmy a cold, unblinking stare. “Like the time you tried to hook me up with your lesbian best friend there,” she flicked her head at Destiny, “ after her bad breakup. And I had to tell both of you that I have a boyfriend.” She flashed her index finger, where sat a silver band.
Taking a swig of her beer, Destiny looked at her. “That was nearly a year ago, Jenny, and you bring it up now. Maybe we do have some unresolved sexual tension. I could help you get rid of it…” She replied dryly with a hint of suggestion, knowing exactly what buttons to brush.
Jimmy burst out laughing. Behind him, Jennifer's face went bright red. “Go to hell, Harrelson…” was all she could muster.
With that Destiny turned back to her old friend. “So Jimmy? How's Kathy and the kids?” She asked, taking a swig of her beer.
Jimmy sighed, swirling his beer before taking a large gulp. Behind him, Jennifer was watching the pair intently like a hawk
“ She's doing fine and so are the kids,” He replied wistfully, “but to be honest, Desi, this homicide case we've been working on means I've had less time to spend with the family.” There was an edge of tiredness to his voice, that Destiny rarely heard.
Destiny leant forward. “And what case is that? Talk to me.”
It wasn't Jimmy that spoke first but Jennifer. “Way to kill your career, Jimmy.”
He spun round. “Have you got something useful to say, Detective?” Jimmy snarled through gritted teeth.
Jennifer flinched slightly, shifting her focus from him, to Destiny and back again. “I’ve told you many times, Sergeant. You are flirting with disaster informing…a vigilante,” she jutted her chin at Destiny, “about details of ongoing investigations. If this was to get back captain-”
“Then why don't you go run along and tell him, Detective. Or better yet, inform IA while you're at it. Go get your fucking promotion!” He yelled, raising his voice and turning to face Jennifer.
The petite Asian held up her hands. “Fine, whatever, go tell her, I'm going for a smoke,” She slid off her stool and snatched up her jacket, sauntering towards the exit. When she reached the door, she looked over her shoulder, “I'm only trying to watch your back, Jimmy, protecting you for when the shit hits the fan.” With that she left the two alone.
“She's a bitch.” Destiny said pointing to the direction of the door. “How do you even put up with her?”
Jimmy grunted. “Jennifer? She spent 3 years in the Police Academy, and one year in uniform and she thinks she knows what's what in Robbery/Homicide. She's on the express elevator up. But I'll say this about her, she has good instincts. Now she needs to work on that bedside manner of hers.”
Destiny nodded. “So about this case, you're working on?
Jimmy looked at Frank. “Before we do, let's have another beer and find ourselves a private table.”
He ordered two more Budweisers and the two retreated further down into the bar, finding a private booth near the back window.
Jimmy knocked back his amber liquid first.
“Have you heard of Tony “The Beast” Catalano?”
The name rang an instant bell with Destiny.
“Yeah, I heard his name in the news. Isn't he that big shot Lieutenant in the Lombardo Crime family? Allegedly shot that guy in that Pizzeria over in Little Italy, 6 months back? He's on trial for his murder.” She took a swig of her beer.
Jimmy nodded his head. “ That's the guy. Real savage motherfucker, and the man he shot was Freddy Rizzo, one of our informants. Well, long story short, we spent 6 months building a water tight case against that bastard and now it looks like he might just walk.” He took another drink and sighed.
“Man, we even had witnesses who put Catalano at the Pizzeria on the night of the shooting, putting five 9mm rounds into Rizzo. But guess what?”
Destiny shook her head. “They suddenly developed short term amnesia.”
Jimmy laughed darkly. “Damn straight. And now Catalano's lawyers are stalling, instructing him to plead the Fifth Amendment.” He sat back, nursing his bottle. “This is forcing the department's hand. My captain says if we don't turn this around soon, then he's going to pass the case to the feds, and it will be their headache.”
Destiny reached out, squeezing his hand. “Man, that's rough. What do you know about Catalano?”
Jimmy shrugged. “Catalano? He's not the most liked guy among the major families,” Jimmy chuckled, “In fact not even his own mother likes him. But Don Lombardo has invested a lot in his defence, hiring the best lawyers in Manhattan to get him off.”
“Why? Is he the Don's love child, or something?” She asked, downing more of her beer.
Jimmy shook his head. “Nothing like that. Tony is a Made Man so the Don feels obliged to dig him out of this hole.” he sighed deeply. “The only thing I can think of is if we can get the Don to change his mind and drop his support, then the case will go through and Catalano will have no choice but to confess because he just lost his meal ticket.”
Destiny grinned widely, an idea forming in her mind. “Jimmy, I've got an idea. What do you know about the Don's Operations?”
Jimmy scratched the back of his head. “Well, the Don has his fat fingers in many pies, from Little Italy all the way to the east side of Brooklyn.” He then snapped his fingers. “Of course! Lenny “The Business” Giamatti; he's a big time drug dealer in Clinton Hill who handles the Don's steroid sales in Brooklyn.”
Destiny finished her beer. “Where can I find Lenny?”
“He “owns” a gym, Giamatti Fitness, 576 Monroe Street in Bedford-Stuyvesant. Why? What have you got in mind?”
Destiny rose from her seat, fist bumping him. “Let's just say you might have your case, yet.”
As she turned to leave, Jimmy called after her.
“Desi! Hold up! Just be careful, okay? The Don is one ruthless sonofabitch and if you get caught by the NYPD, I don't know if I can bail you out.”
Destiny turned around smiling. “Please, Jimmy. Do you remember Afghanistan? When I saved your ass? They didn't catch me then and they won't catch me now.” With that she turned on her heels and left the bar.
576 Monroe Street, Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, Outside Giamatti Fitness, Saturday 20th April 2026, 10:00am
Destiny stood outside the three floor Gym, its front sign white dynamic print on a blue background, with the logo, an intertwined stylised “GF”. Through the window she could see quite a few young fit men and women, running on treadmills or rowing on machines. Destiny's eyes naturally fixed onto the gentle curves of the women and how the tight gym clothes they wore emphasised their athletic bodies.
It also gave her an idea. Well, it is a gym after all. I could just enter as a customer and get the lay of the land. Plan my next move from there.
Rolling her shoulders, Destiny walked through the double automatic doors and up to the reception desk.
Behind it stood a cute, young petite brunette with soft blue eyes and long brown hair. She was no more than 18, and wearing a sky blue short sleeve polo shirt, with the gym logo on her left breast, black shorts, white socks and matching gym shoes. The nametag on her right breast read “Cindy”
The girl greeted her with a well rehearsed smile. “Hi, welcome to Giamatti's Fitness. My name is Cindy. Are you here for the free trial?” She asked in a friendly patter.
Destiny returned the smile, ogling the girl as she did so. “Yes. Yes, I'm here for the free trial. Could you set that up for me please, Cindy?”
Cindy nodded. “Of course. If you could give me your name, then I can set that up for you right now.”
“Sure, my name is Laetita Watson.”
Cindy's nimble fingers danced across her keyboard before she turned back from her monitor.
“Thank you, Miss Watson. Your free trial begins now. You can now access the ground floor gym, and meet our personal trainers. But the second and third floors are for members and staff only. The gym and changing rooms are down the hall to your left. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”
Destiny shook her head. “No, thank you Cindy. You've been a great help. Have a nice day.” She said, flashing the girl a wink.
“Have a nice day, and enjoy the gym.” Cindy replied with a smile and a wave.
Destiny proceeded down the hall, noticing men and women, dressed in gym wear with ID badges clipped to their trousers or worn around their necks on lanyards, walking up and down the staircase.
She smiled. It seems the personal trainers are allowed upstairs, so I'll just steal the clothes and pass from one of the female trainers. It will save me the trouble of having to sneak upstairs. All I need to do is find a personal trainer…
She headed through the changing rooms onto the gym, her eyes scanning for a suitable candidate. There were many female trainers that looked suitable, but they were all busy with clients. All except one.
There was a sultry Latina trainer, leaning on the wall by the treadmills and Destiny got the distinct impression she was being mentally undressed by the woman. And she liked it.
She looked sidelong, enticing the trainer with a flick of her hair. The Latina was attractive; with diamond shaped olive skin, high cheekbones and bright almond shaped haze eyes. Around 24 years old by Destiny's guess. Her long raven coloured hair, underneath a white headband that matched her scrunchie and sweatband in her right bicep, was braided into a ponytail that reached down between her shoulder blades. The girl flashed her a sweet smile, Destiny threw one back and checked out her body.
Her knockout, athletic figure was athletic and lean with zero body fat, her well formed C-cup breasts were accentuated by the tight blue lycra mid halter sports she wore. And even tighter green patterned lycra gym pants held her hips snugly. A pair of black gym shoes complimented the outfit. Destiny also noted the woman's staff pass, clipped to her gym pants. She's just my size and coming over right now. This will be easy…
“Hey babe, my name's Conchita. You look a little lost. Is there something I can do to help?” The woman asked, her hazel eyes bright.
Destiny teased a loose strand of her hair. “I don't know. There's so much to choose from. Where do I start?”
The latina drew close, breath brushing Destiny's faith. “I've a few ideas, if you're willing…beautiful.” Conchita flirted, stroking Destiny's forearm gently.
Destiny seized her moment. “Do you have any rooms where we could have a more…private workout session?” She brushed the latina’s hand
Conchita seized her hand and giggled. “We have private rooms in the back, away from prying eyes.”
She led Destiny past the row of treadmills, past double doors and into the corridor beyond. As they neared a broom cupboard to their right, Destiny made her move.
“ Hey, you know something, Conchita?” Destiny purred, stopping at the changing room. “I'm quite the martial artist. Maybe I can give you a quick demonstration? Just for you babe.”
Conchita, so gullible, turned around “I like a pretty girl who can look after herself, good herself…”
Destiny smirked. Hot Chica, but not too bright. She thought, caressing the woman's face, before bringing her right hand edged like a blade down in a sudden sharp backhand chop onto Conchita’s nerve cluster, at the junction of her neck and shoulder.
“Ugh?!” The latina squeaked in equal parts pain and betrayal, her big bright hazel eyes rolling into the back of head. She fell forwards into Destiny, who caught the unconscious latina under her arms.
“Nighty, night. Conchita. Time to get out of those clothes.” She whispered into the woman's ear, dragging her body into the waiting broom cupboard.
Five Minutes Later
‘Sorry sweetheart. On any other day, I would have gladly shown off in front of you. Perhaps even more than that…” Destiny, now dressed in Conchita’s clothes, pulling on the head and sweat band.
At her feet lay curled a bound and scantily clad Conchita, wearing only a sky blue sports bra and matching scanty thong. Her wrists and ankles bound by cable ties, and mouth taped up.
Destiny's eyes admired the toned physique of the attractive latina. She knelt by the unconscious girls, brushing aside a strand of her hair. “Take this for being such a big help, Conchita.” She leant forwards kissing the girl on her cheek. “Thanks for your clothes and your pass.”
Taking Conchita by her ankles, she dragged her deeper into the cupboard concealing her body behind a shelf of cleaning products.
Looping her bag over her shoulder, Destiny swept from the broom cupboard, back through the gym and up the staircase.
Giamatti Fitness 3rd Floor, 10;20am
Her new disguise allowed Destiny to move through the floors without as much as a challenge from gym staff or VIP clientele. She shared nods of greeting from staff who mistook her for one of their own, and for all intents and purposes she was.
Reaching the third floor, Destiny walked past rooms where heavily muscled men received plastic bags full of steroids, in exchange for a few Franklins. And in the adjacent room were counting machines that funnelled that money to mobsters like Catalano.
Reaching a door at the end of the corridor, Destiny looked up seeing a brass sign nailed to the wood that read. “Lenny ‘The Business’ Giamatti.”
“This must be the place.” She said gripping the door knob and knocking twice. There was no answer.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she twisted the knob and pushed forward, finding to her surprise the door open. “Huh? Don't criminals lock their offices? Lucky me…”
She was greeted by a large office that on one side was lined with a number of tacky looking gold weightlifting trophies dating from the early 90s, with a window that looked down onto the street.
In front of the trophy cabinet sat Giamatti's desk, which itself was littered with even more trophies. Destiny snorted. “Someone's a regular Narcissus.” Her eyes were then drawn to the open apple mac book. “Hmm? It couldn't be that easy?”
Walking around the desk her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Well, somebody's all brawn and no brains. Leaving a device unlocked so anyone can access it…” She smiled seeing the switched on device, unlocked, with the logo of the gym flashing proudly across the screen. “...I don't mind if I do.” Destiny smirked, taking a seat as she began rummaging through Lenny’s emails.
Finding a whole stack of emails in Lenny's inbox the man hadn't even bothered to delete, Destiny found numerous references to a strip club called “The Starlight Lounge.” That rang a bell in her head; according to the information Jimmy had sent her, that joint was owned by Frank ‘The Nose’ Lombardo, the Don's nephew and another made man.
She clicked on the most recent email titled ‘Latest Shipment.’ and read aloud. “ Hiya Frank. Thanks for the latest shipment of go juice buddy, now I feel pumped. Will swing by the Starlight Lounge tonight, make sure that sweet piece of ass Amii is working? Or was it Annie? You know the waitress with the cat tattoo? Doesn't matter, I want a private show. Alright, catch you later. ‘The Business’ Destiny made a vomiting sound in her mouth. “Man, I need a shower just reading that. But I have my next bread crumb…”
Using Google maps, she quickly found the address of The Starlight Lounge. “333 Lincoln Place, Prospect Heights, Brooklyn. Time to go.”
Leaving the place as she found it, Destiny stepped out into the corridor brushing past a tall bald middle aged muscle man that could only be ‘The Business’ himself. Lenny didn't even register her presence as he went into his office.
Destiny picked up the pace as she backtracked down the stairs. “All those steroids, they rot your brains. Among other things…”
Ground Floor 10:25am
Finding her way back to the broom cupboard where she had stashed Conchita, Destiny ignored the angry, tearful and muffled protests of the squirming scantily clad latina.
“I don't know why you're complaining, Conchita?” Destiny said as she changed out of Conchita’s clothes and back into her own. “At least you get your clothes back. Not everyone can say that.”
When she was finished Destiny flashed Conchita a cheeky wink. “Thanks, you've been a great help.” The woman screamed onto her gag as Destiny shut the door on her for a second time.
Striding past the reception desk, Destiny caught the eye of Cindy. “Hi again. Did you enjoy your workout?”
Destiny flashed her a smile on her way out. “Yeah, I had a lot of fun. Hardly broke a sweat.”
Chuckling, she marched out of the gym and towards her waiting car.
The Starlight Lounge, 333 Lincoln Place, Prospect Heights, Brooklyn, 11:30am
Destiny had been to many dives in her time, mostly during her younger, wilder days as an army recruit before she had met her ex-girlfriend Tessa.
But the Starlight Lounge had to be the dive and dives. Then again it was a mafia run club in an old two storey structure, its front facade a silhouette of a naked woman riding a shooting star, below it read “The Starlight Lounge”.
She sat in her car, watching a few men enter through the front despite the hour. Looks like something's going down, I need to get in there but not through the front door… Getting out of her car, she noticed a small back alley to the rear of the club. Excellent, I'll take the back door and grab a disguise if possible. Crossing the road, Destiny entered the alley.
It opened out into a small courtyard, to the right was a black service door and next to it the right was a row of dumpsters. Suddenly, the door opened. Destiny hunkered down and took cover behind the dumpster, she peered around the corner to get a look of who had emerged.
It was a pretty young woman, no more than 21 years old with smooth rounded pale features, gentle cheekbones and blue doe shaped eyes, long chestnut brown hair tied with a purple scrunchie into a high ponytail and a cute pierced right nostril. Her slim, petite figure was hugged by a violent tank top with the ‘Starlight Lounge’ legend and logo splashed across her small but buoyant breasts, and a nametag pinned on the right breast, tight blue denim jeans belted at the waist and black heels. Gracing her slender neck was a black filigree choker.
The cutie leant against the wall, took out her smartphone from her rear pocket and began scrolling. Destiny smiled.
Looks like she's a waitress, or perhaps a stripper who's also a waitress. Either way, she's a little shorter but with that outfit it wouldn't matter much. She'll have to do…
Taking out her trusty lucky coin, Destiny tossed it over the dumpster and behind the waitress.
“Huh? What the hell was that?” The girl said with a local Brooklyn twang, turning her back to Destiny.
That was all the invitation she needed. Destiny advanced quickly on the unsuspecting brunette, coiling her right arm around the waitress's pretty neck and pushing her head slightly forward with the left, cutting off the blood flow to her brain.
The girl let out a surprised, choked squeak, dropping her smartphone to the tarmac from loose fingers. Destiny drew the limp waitress to the concrete, her consciousness fading with a gentle “uhhh…”
“Sweet dreams…Amii, it's nothing personal.” Destiny whispered into the unconscious girl's ear, holding the chokehold to check the girl wasn't feigned, she glanced at Amii's smartphone. “Instagram? Let this be a lesson to you, honey, social media rots your brain. Now let's get you out of those clothes, there doesn't seem much to strip off…”
Taking Amii under her shoulders, Destiny dragged her limp body around the back of the dumpster, taking a little feel of her young breasts as she did so. “Wow, someone's brave and wearing a bra. Was that just for me? You shouldn't have, babe.”
After she stripped off her clothes, including her white bra, Destiny got to work. She first removed Ami's choker from her throat and put it on herself, before pulling off the tanktop exposing her young, well formed B-cup breasts with puffy pink areolas and stiff nipples and a pierced navel “Cute tits, Amii. If I wasn't in a hurry…”
Pulling on the stolen tanktop, Destiny unfastened the denim shorts, working them past the waitresses slender hips and whipping them down her long dancer's legs, which revealed a double surprise.
A neon pink lace g-string thong covering what little modesty Amii had and a small cheeky cat tattoo on her hip, visible just above and to the right of the gussets hem line. Destiny grinned. “Very cute, Amii, I like a girl with a little ink.”
Once she had finished getting dressed in the rest of Amii's clothes, including her heels, Destiny bound together Amii's wrists and ankles with cable ties and gagged her with duct tape. Then she hauled Amii's half naked body into a fireman's carry, and placed her inside. Next to her, Destiny placed her rucksack packed with her clothes. “Keep an eye on this, babe.” She quipped, closing the dumpster lid on the unconscious Amii.
“Oldest trick in the book.” Destiny grinned, stopping to retrieve her lucky coin. She flipped and caught the silver dollar, popping it into the pocket of her stolen shorts before slipping through the side door and into the club.
Starlight Lounge Interior, 11:45am
Amii's clothes allowed Destiny through the darkened main club, where sat a group of men watching two half naked girls shaking their asses on the stage to an edgy clubland beat. Past the main bar, Destiny went through a door marked ‘VIP:- Members Only.”
She had gotten a little past the VIP bar when a deep, Brooklyn accent stopped her in tracks.
“Hey, girly. Get that pretty little ass over here! I've got work for you.”
She turned to see a tall heavy set olive skinned man behind the bar, dressed in a black tuxedo beckoning her with his hand.
Answering with a nod, Destiny approached him.
“I need you to take this to the boss's office…” he said, turning to place a bottle of Johnnie Walker whiskey, along with five tumblers and a bowl of ice onto a tray. “…he's having a few rounds of poker with his friends and they need some liquid refreshment.
Destiny smiled, taking up the tray onto her right hand. “How do I get to the boss's office?” She asked innocently.
The bartender smiled. “See that door to your right?” he gestured with his head. “Go through there and right past the private viewing rooms, up the stairs. It will be the door on your third right, the room overlooking the private floor.”
Thanking the man, she left the bar and followed his directions.
The Office of Frank ‘The Nose’ Lombardo, 11:57am
Destiny knocked twice on the heavy wooden door.
“Enter.” Answered a deep Brooklyn accented voice.
As she entered the room, one of the five men whistled from the poker table set in the middle of the room. From the amount of cash in the middle, the pot was well in excess of a thousand bucks.
“Look at her! There isn't an ugly broad in your bar, Frankie!” said a sallow faced skinny man, who wore his fedora at a jaunty angle. While the others chortled
A young man with a predatory smile and a large hooked nose gestured at her. “Come on over, sweetheart. Don't let Sylvester’s lack of manners scare you.”
Nodding and smiling, Destiny walked over to the poker table and proceeded to pour out the whiskey and ice.
She could feel the eyes of the five men on her, but it was Frank whose gaze lingered the longest. Once she was finished, Destiny turned to leave but Frank gently took her hand.
“Hold up, sweetheart…” he smiled, casting an appreciative eye over her figure, and suddenly Destiny felt dirty. “...you've gotta be a new hire right? I should give Luigi a raise for hiring such a sweet piece of ass. I told him he should think about hiring some black girls, and here we are.”
One of the other men, an overweight sweaty bald man with watery grey eyes chuckled. “Nothing wrong with a little variety. I find ebony girls very pleasing to look at.”
Sylvester shuffled the cards. “You won't hear that in an Irish pub.” That sent a ripple of laughter across the table.
Frank rubbed the back of Destiny's hand, doubling down. “If you're interested…Amii,” he read her stolen nametag, “we should have a little private ‘chat’ at my estate later. When I've finished cleaning these schmucks out, of course. So what do you say, doll?”
Destiny felt the anger inside her rise at the man’s assumptions but forced it down into her stomach. She just smiled suggestively, nodded and retreated towards the door, Frank's eyes following her ass.
“Lucky bastard…” She heard Sylvester say as she closed the door behind her.
Shuddering slightly, Destiny placed her ear to the door. After hearing five minutes of the men complimenting her figure and sucking up to Frank, she heard something that caught her ear.
“That's a bluff Frankie, I'll raise you fifty bucks.” Came Sylvester’s slick voice. “So tell Sal and Vinnie what you said to me about Valentino.” She heard Frank pause to drink his whiskey before answering.
“ Valentino De Rossi. My uncle's consigliere. He's a big name in the music industry, owns a big record label called Big Apple Records out of Lower Manhattan. He knows everything there is to know about the old man; Every dirty little secret. And he's the money man as well. Earns way more than that punk Giamatti.” He then slammed something onto the table. “And I see that bet, Sly and raise 100 bucks you fucking lightweight.”
Hearing all she needed to, Destiny took out her phone and ran a search for Big Apple Records. “Bingo,” She whispered, “Corner of Canal Street and Broadway.”
Replacing her phone, Destiny quickly backtracked through the club and back to her car, having no desire to have a personal ‘chat’ with Frank and his nose.
Corner of Canal Street and Broadway, Lower Manhattan, NYC, 12:30pm
From her car across from the Big Apple recording studio, Destiny could see that the recording studio was in a three floor building. The entrance was guarded by two burly suited bouncers that flanked a revolving door, and the reception desk manned by an alert young female concierge.
Destiny glanced to the side alley around the corner, and then to her stolen clothes. Somehow I don't they’ll let me in dressed like a stripper, so I’ll go round the back and see if I can't get a change of clothes..
Getting out of her car, Destiny unclipped the nametag from her tanktop and looped her bag over her shoulder before walking across the street and into the alley.
Terminal 4, JFK International Airport, Queens, New York, Friday 19th April 2026, 11:00am
“Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away…’ Destiny sang under her breath as the soft, dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra crooned in her ears. She stood outside the bustling terminal 4, reviewing her latest audit for Athena. They had been hired by the Airport to test security by finding a way to plant a dummy bomb on an outbound flight.
Switching off her phone, Destiny strode into the terminal scanning her surroundings. First things first, I need a way past security. And for that I'll need a disguise, I won't get far dressed in my civvies… That's when two young Delta Airways stewardesses walked past her towards the security scanners, their trolley bags trailing behind them. She grinned, an idea forming in her mind. Perfect, I always wanted to be a stewardess. I'll steal a stewardess's uniform. I can conceal the package in the trolley bag, and flutter my eyelashes and use the uniform to get past security. I just need to get one on her own and put her to sleep. Perhaps the bathroom…
She looked towards the restrooms and saw a pretty blonde Virgin Atlantic stewardess approach the women's bathroom. The girl was classically beautiful; she had squared slightly tanned aquiline features, high cheekbones and big blue doe shaped eyes, her shiny strawberry blonde hair was tied into an elegant bun at the base of her neck. Destiny put her age at around the mid twenties. The woman was dressed in a red blazer, with matching skirt and heels. On the right breast was pinned a set of flight wings and nametag that Destiny couldn't read at this distance. Around her neck was tied a blue neckerchief and underneath her blazer was a white blouse. Looped over her right shoulder was a black leather handbag, and she was pulling a grey trolley bag behind her. On her left wrist was an expensive gold plated dress watch.
“You are just my size…” Destiny said under her breath as she watched the pretty blonde saunter into the bathroom. Grinning, she followed the stewardess inside.
Women's Bathroom, Terminal 4, 11:15am
Entering the restroom, Destiny found the blonde stewardess busily applying her red lipstick, handbag open on the row of sinks. She glanced at the nametag on the woman's uniform Dana? Pretty name for a gorgeous woman. Too bad that uniform is going to be mine real soon… She thought flashing the stewardess a suggestive smile, and was pleasantly surprised to be returned one.
She pretended to enter the cubicle behind the unsuspecting stewardess. After opening the cubicle door, Destiny struck without warning like a thunderbolt keeping her profile low and using the blonde's own reflection in the mirror against her.
Muffling the blonde's cry of surprise, Destiny clamped a hand around her mouth, dragging the struggling stewardess into the cubicle. With her other hand, she gripped the woman's throat, below her neckerchief and with a finger thumb on either side, above the vagus nerve and pinched.
Dana let out a low muffled aroused moan, her big blues rolling back into her skull as she slumped unconscious in Destiny's grip. She lowered the stewardess onto the toilet bowl and turned to lock the door.
“I’m sorry…Dana.” Destiny said, reading the stewardesses nametag, “it looks like you won't be making your flight today, sweetie.” Smiling, she stripped out of her leather jacket, hoodie, jeans and boots.
Now standing in her navy underwear, Destiny got to work undressing Dana's limp form. She started by removing the stewardesses heels, and neckerchief before unfastening her uniform jacket. Peeling the jacket off the woman's slender shoulders, Destiny unbuttoned Dana's blouse getting a good glimpse of well B-cup breasts, emphasised by a white lace floral patterned demi bra with small pink ribbons on the straps and between the cups.
“That's why I love stewardesses,” Destiny quipped, taking a deep breath and getting a whiff of her expensive perfume, “so sexy and glamorous.” Reaching around to Dana's rear, she unzipped the pencil skirt, working the garment past the stewardesses hips and pulling it down her long legs, smothered by sheer nude coloured tights, under which was a white lace thong that matched her bra, complete with a pink ribbon above the gusset.
“Cute body, Dana,” Destiny complimented the unconscious woman, unbuttoning the rest of the stewardesses blouse and whipping it off her bare shoulders, “ and don't worry, you can keep your tights. I don't need them, honey.”
Admiring Dana's scantily clad form, Destiny quickly pulled on the stewardesses uniform, including the neckerchief, finding it a comfortable fit. “You know, something Dana?” Destiny loosened the stewardesses hair tie, adopting the bun. “Ever since I watched Pam Grier in Jackie Brown, I always wanted to be a stewardess. So thanks for the opportunity, babe.”
Taking her zip ties and tape from her rucksack, Destiny zip tied the blonde's wrists to the pipe connecting the water pipe to the cistern and her ankles and taped up her mouth.
She tapped the stewardess's cheek. “Thanks for the uniform, sweetie. Enjoy your nap…”
Laughing, she closed the cubicle, jimmied the lock and left Dana tied to the toilet. She secreted her package in the stewardesses trolley bag, and her ties and tape in the handbag.
As an afterthought, Destiny used Dana's makeup to look more the part of an international stewardess.
When she was finished she put the makeup bag into the purse and looped it over her shoulder.
Destiny grinned at her reflection, dressed in her stolen stewardess uniform. “That's right, I'm Jackie Brown.”
Chuckling to herself, she sauntered out of the bathroom, dragging Dana's trolley bag behind her.
JFK International Airport, Queens, New York, Terminal 4, 11:27am
Now disguised In Dana's uniform, Destiny approached security and bag screening, beyond that were the boarding gates and her ultimate target, the planes themselves. Glancing up at the departure timetables, she weighed up her next move. [/i] Having my bags searched is out of the question, I'll be made as soon as they scan the purse, let alone the trolley bag… [/i]
Ahead, she saw four security checkpoints each manned by a uniformed TES customs agent. The second from the left, a young sallow faced man with olive skin, brown eyes and short cropped dark black hair, looked bored and still had a few spots on his face. His expression read of a man who looked at two many suitcases and hadn't yet been on his break. This gave Destiny an idea. Kid looks bored stiff and fresh out of high school, looks like it's time to play the irritated stewardess. He won't know won't hit him . From the departure board, she selected Virgin Atlantic flight VA 6116 to Frankfurt, which left in just under 30 minutes, as her cover story.
Getting into line behind a young couple, Destiny hunched slightly and occasionally glanced at her stolen dress watch, bouncing irritably on her heels, to give the customs agent the impression of an irritated woman in a hurry. The occasional glances he shot her, told Destiny it was working.
Five minutes later, he had cleared the young couple and beckoned Destiny with a raised hand. “Next!”
Sighing audibly, Destiny glanced at the young man's nameplate which read “Di Matteo.”
“Ma’am? Please put your bags on the conveyor.” He said with a low Brooklyn drawl.
“Do you know what time it is, buddy?” Destiny snarled jutting out her chin irritably.
The agent, clearly not used to having what little authority he had challenged, reared back. “N-no ma'am,” he stammered before checking his watch. “It's…uh…11:38.”
Destiny breathed through her nose once and narrowed her eyes. “11:38, someone get the kid a medal. Well Officer Di Matteo, I've got a 13 hour red eye flight to Frankfurt that I’ve got to be on,” She folded her ams across her breasts, “and you are holding me back with your silly little searches.” She said in a low menacing voice, staring straight into the officers eyes.
Di Matteo blinked. “Ma'am, please. I'm just t-trying to do my job. He raised his hands placatingly.
“And you're stopping me from doing mine, idiot. Do you even know who I am?”
Di Matteo shook his head. Behind her, Destiny could hear sniggering from the queue.
“My name is Dana Harrelson, and I happen to be the head stewardess on flight VA6116. If you continue to hold me up, then you'll have to explain to Virgin Atlantic why over 600 passengers are seeking refunds. Because you held up the head stewardess!”
She stamped her foot angrily and added a little sassy swagger for effect.
The young customs officer opened and closed his mouth sheepishly. “Er, sorry ma'am. Please go on through and have a good flight.” He buzzed her through with a nervous smile, hoping that was the end of his ordeal.
Destiny let out a dramatic huff. “Finally, I thought you would never let me go,” She dragged Dana's trolley bag through the checkpoint.
She then turned around, throwing the officer a cheeky wave. “You have a nice day now, honey.” Chuckling, Destiny made her way to the boarding gate.
She found the boarding gate unmanned, and there was a small queue of bemused travellers forming. Destiny massaged her chin, contemplating her next move. I could always board the Frankfurt flight, but that wouldn't fit the whole non suicidal terrorist vibe. Besides, cabin crew all know each other and wearing another woman's uniform, whose name they happen to know, will invalidate the whole “I'm new” defence. I need a new plan…
She turned her gaze past the large terminal windows to the tarmac, towards the ground crew who scurried around like ants loading the Virgin Airbus with luggage. Destiny smiled, a plan forming in her mind. I'll get on the tarmac and find a way to plant the package. And for that, I'll need a ground crew disguise… Seeing a blue door to the left of the boarding desk marked ‘authorised personnel only,’ Destiny walked through it and came to a staircase that led down. Taking off her stolen heels, she lifted the trolley bag and proceeded down.
Terminal 4, Staff Only Areas, 11:39am
Destiny had reached the first landing of the dimly lit passage, when she heard the sound of male and female giggling and kissing.
She quickly proceeded down the stairs, sticking to the shadows and making as little noise as possible.
Stepping off the final step, Destiny noticed a man and woman leant up against the wall to her left, too busy engrossed in each other to notice her. The male, a blonde thirty something, was dressed in the uniform of a Virgin Atlantic steward Probably the guy who's supposed to be on the boarding gate. Destiny mused. While his slim, athletic partner was wearing the uniform of the airports ground crew. She rounded the staircase, hiding underneath to get a better look at the woman.
The woman was an attractive redhead, around 30 with freckled oval features, big green eyes and slender cheekbones, framed by shoulder length ginger hair. On closer inspection, the redhead wasn't just any ground crew but an Airport Operations Manager, judging by the black text on the back of her yellow high visibility vest. Underneath which she wore an unflattering navy blue jumpsuit with the airport's logo on the left breast and reflective strips below the knee and above the elbow, along with black laced steel toe-capped work boots. Around her neck were a pair of orange ear defenders with a microphone. There was also the hint of a tablet, tucked into the pocket of her hi vis vest.
Destiny couldn't help but feel melancholic as she watched the couple kiss, brief flashes of Tessa entered her mind but she buried them with thoughts of her job. Perfect, she's just my size and that uniform will open many doors, but I need to separate her from lover boy there first. And they look neck deep in each other. I guess I'll just have to wait them out…
“You know Teagan, one of these we are going to get caught.” Said Martin as he pulled out of the kiss, stroking Teagan's arms.
The redhead smiled, caressing his face. “I don't care about that Martin, we're both on our breaks so it's not like they can fire us.”
Martin laughed, shaking his head. “ I don't know, you're the Airport Operations Manager and saying such things. You're a bad influence; You know that right?”
Teagan giggled, kissing him on the cheek. Sighing, Martin reluctantly pulled out.
“Honey, as much as I like our trysts at work. I have to get back to work. There's probably a long queue at the boarding gate by now, so I have to get back to work.”
Teagan wanly smiled. “And I better get back to the tarmac before the crew goes on strike. They'll just fall apart without me.”
The couple shared one last kiss and hug before they parted, Destiny ducked behind the stairs as Martin turned to walk up the stairs.
“Oh and one more thing, babe?” Martin turned, stopping halfway up the stairs. “Are you going to book dinner for our date tonight or is it on me?”
Teagan grinned while taking out her tablet. “I'll book our usual table at Giuseppe's and pay for the food.” She blew her lover a kiss. “See you later, Marty. Enjoy the rest of your shift.”
As her lover disappeared back up the stairs, Teagan turned her back on the staircase, booting up her tablet.
Behind her, Destiny grinned. Now's my chance. Time to put her to sleep and take her uniform. And to teach her a valuable lesson not to slack off.. Stepping out from behind the stairs, she crouched low, creeping silently behind the unsuspecting, inattentive redhead.
Teagan never saw Destiny coming as she hummed a gentle tune while she typed the name of her and Martin’s favourite Brooklyn restaurant into her Google search bar.
Destiny struck with the speed of a rattlesnake; she coiled her right arm around the redhead's throat, squeezing gently and with her left hand pressed her head forward. Teagan let out a choked squeak of surprise, dropping her tablet to the floor.
The woman bucked and squirmed, her hands desperately gripping Destiny's arm in a futile attempt to pull the stronger woman off her. “Don't fight it, Teagan. You're only hurting herself, not me…” she whispered into the redhead's ear while squeezing her throat even tighter and pressing her head forward.
Feeling Teagan's struggles slacken off, Destiny doubled down, applying subtle pressure and with a rasping “uhhhh…” the redhead slumped unconscious into Destiny's arms. “That's a good girl…” She said, dragging Teagan's limp body under her shoulders and into the darkness under the staircase.
Laying the woman on her side, Destiny went back to retrieve Teagan’s tablet.
“Huh? Giuseppe's Italian Restaurant in Crown Heights?” She said switching the device off and walking back to Teagan. “They make great pizza…”
Kneeling next to Teagan's body, Destiny checked Teagan's photo ID clipped on the breast pocket of her high vis vest. “Teagan Matthews? Well sorry Teagan for ruining your date but there's always tomorrow. Now let's get you stripped, babe.”
She quickly stripped off Dana's Virgin Atlantic uniform and folded it to one side before turning her attention to the unconscious redhead.
Destiny began by removing Teagan's ear defenders and high vis vest before unlacing the workboots and pulling them off, along with her pink cotton, white lace trim ankle socks. Rolling the redhead onto her back, Destiny unzipped her jumpsuit revealing Teagan's pink with white lace trim camisole and matching bikini cut panties. The nipples of the redhead’s perky B-cup breasts peeking through the thin cotton of her camisole.
Destiny wolf whistled as she appreciated Teagan's slim, tight body. “Are these for Martin? Lucky bastard, well if you're lucky maybe he'll find you.” She said, pulling the jumpsuit from Teagan's slender shoulders and down her slender body leaving her dressed only in her girly pink underwear.
She stepped into the jumpsuit, zipping it up before she got dressed in the rest of Teagan's uniform. When she was finished, Destiny cable tied Teagan's wrists and ankles then cleave gagged her with the blue neckerchief.
Taking Teagan under her shoulders, Destiny dragged the unconscious woman deeper into the shadows, propping her body against the wall.
Stepping out into the dim artificial light, she secreted the package, duct tape, cable ties, and tablet into the stolen uniform. Destiny then made her way towards the nearest exit onto the tarmac, pushing the door open.
The Tarmac, JFK International Airport, 11:45am
The light of the sun hit Destiny's face in a flash, but she paid it no mind. Dressed in Teagan's uniform, she tucked the photo ID into the high vis vests breast pocket and slid
behind the wheel of an airport electric buggy.
Destiny switched on the tablet to find a layout of the airport, large dots in green marking flights that were being loaded and red ones marking those cleared for the runway. The nearest and south from her position caught her eye. “Virgin Atlantic flight VA 6116 to Frankfurt. Huh, how the stars align.” Igniting the buggy's small electric engine, Destiny snapped on the ear defenders and drove out onto the tarmac.
Not two minutes later, Destiny pulled up to find the VA Airbus being loaded with luggage via long conveyor lines. There were two young airport workers, one male the other female working the line. They stopped briefly nodding at Destiny's uniform before returning to their work.
Using the authority of her stolen uniform, Destiny ordered the two workers to fetch more luggage from the luggage bins, and using the distraction placed the package in between two large suitcases. Smiling as it disappeared into the bowels of the Airbus’ cargo hold.
Over the course of the next five minutes, Destiny supervised the loading of flight VA 6116 and even cleared the flight for takeoff. She then dismissed the workers back to the terminal.
Hopping back onto the buggy, Destiny took out her smartphone and called Preston.
“Boss? It's Destiny. Package delivered.”
Preston's deep voice answered her. “Great job, as always Des. I'm with the Airport Security Director, meet me in her office in the main terminal.”
Hanging up, she switched on the buggy's engine and drove towards the main terminal.
Office of the Airport Security Director, Main Terminal, JFK International Airport, 12:15pm
“I still can't believe you were let through security without a body check. Such a major breach in my security.” Helena Macmillan, a thin yet imposing 51 year old brunette, leant across her desk, tenting her fingers.
Now redressed in her leather jacket, hoodie, jeans and boots Destiny sat across from her. “With respect, ma’am, that TES agent was young and inexperienced,” she said crossing her legs, “I recommend that there should be two guards per security gate.”
Macmillan sighed, leaning back in her seat. “I'll take your recommendations under advisement Miss Harrelson. But it still doesn't erase the fact you were able to render two women unconscious and use their uniforms to bypass my security very effectively.” She stopped to light a cigarette, and paused to blow a stream of smoke out. “If you were an actual terrorist, those women would be dead and I would've been partially responsible for a major terrorist incident.”
Next to Destiny, Preston leant forward. “Mrs Macmillan. Athena is more than happy to provide any additional training to your staff.”
Macmillan took a long drag from her cigarette. “I think the Board of Directors might just take you up on that generous offer, Mr Sweetwater.” She then turned back to Destiny.
“Do you have any further recommendations, Miss Harrelson?”
Destiny looked at Preston and thought about Teagan and Martin’s tryst before answering.
“I would think about installing more CCTV and lighting in the staff only areas. That way you can keep track of all your staff.
Nodding, Macmillan finished her cigarette and stubbed it out in her ashtray.
“Thank you, Miss Harrelson, Mr Sweetwater. I'll take your recommendations into consideration. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an airport to run and two women in Terminal 4 that'll need to sign non-disclosure agreements.”
The Drunken Leprechaun Irish Pub, Crown Heights, Brooklyn, 19:25pm
“Desi! Good to see you, girl! How are things?” 34 year old Detective Sergeant James, or Jimmy, O'Rourke cried, grasping hands with Destiny. She could sense tension behind the words, and his smile didn't reach his eyes. He was a handsome man with genial features, high cheekbones and deep blue eyes, dark hair cropped short and wavy.
“Could be better, could be worse.” She replied, gripping his hand. Behind him perched on the barstool, was his young partner Detective Jennifer Chen, a pretty Chinese American with long brown hair, heart shaped features and slanted brown ears. She had merely huffed when Destiny had walked in.
Destiny had known Jimmy for 8 years, ever since they had been serving together in Afghanistan and he was her platoon Sergeant in 2nd platoon, Fox Company, 502nd PIR, 82nd Airborne. Their friendship was cemented when he saved her from a Taliban ambush, after Destiny had been shot in the shoulder. An event that had earned her a single purple heart, to go with her campaign citation and marksmanship badge. The two had kept in touch after mustering out and met up regularly for cards and drinks, whenever Jimmy's job permitted. Destiny was also best man at Jimmy's wedding to his sweetheart Kathy and was Godmother to their kids; 7 year old Sadie and 6 year old Jack, who called her ‘Auntie’ Destiny. Jimmy had been a Detective in Robbery Homicide for three years now.
Jimmy released his grip. “So Desi? What can I get you? Bourbon on the rocks? Or maybe a nice cold beer?”
Destiny slid into the empty stool beside him. “I will have a cold Budweiser.”
As Jimmy turned to order two beers from the overweight bartender, Frank, Destiny looked over to Jennifer. “Hey, Jennifer, how's life been treating you?”
The pretty Asian looked at her sidelong and shrugged. “I'm still dating my boyfriend if that's what you're asking, Harrelson.” She said with a voice that barely disguised her irritability.
Destiny felt the temperature drop by a degree. “I'm just trying to be civil, Jennifer, that's all.”
Jennifer nursed her tonic water. “I would prefer you kept your distance, Harrelson. You're not my type.”
Jimmy shot her an angry glance, as he handed Destiny her beer. “Knock it off, Chen and try to be friendly for once.” Again, she caught the same tension between the detectives.
Jennifer knocked back her tonic water, before fixing Jimmy a cold, unblinking stare. “Like the time you tried to hook me up with your lesbian best friend there,” she flicked her head at Destiny, “ after her bad breakup. And I had to tell both of you that I have a boyfriend.” She flashed her index finger, where sat a silver band.
Taking a swig of her beer, Destiny looked at her. “That was nearly a year ago, Jenny, and you bring it up now. Maybe we do have some unresolved sexual tension. I could help you get rid of it…” She replied dryly with a hint of suggestion, knowing exactly what buttons to brush.
Jimmy burst out laughing. Behind him, Jennifer's face went bright red. “Go to hell, Harrelson…” was all she could muster.
With that Destiny turned back to her old friend. “So Jimmy? How's Kathy and the kids?” She asked, taking a swig of her beer.
Jimmy sighed, swirling his beer before taking a large gulp. Behind him, Jennifer was watching the pair intently like a hawk
“ She's doing fine and so are the kids,” He replied wistfully, “but to be honest, Desi, this homicide case we've been working on means I've had less time to spend with the family.” There was an edge of tiredness to his voice, that Destiny rarely heard.
Destiny leant forward. “And what case is that? Talk to me.”
It wasn't Jimmy that spoke first but Jennifer. “Way to kill your career, Jimmy.”
He spun round. “Have you got something useful to say, Detective?” Jimmy snarled through gritted teeth.
Jennifer flinched slightly, shifting her focus from him, to Destiny and back again. “I’ve told you many times, Sergeant. You are flirting with disaster informing…a vigilante,” she jutted her chin at Destiny, “about details of ongoing investigations. If this was to get back captain-”
“Then why don't you go run along and tell him, Detective. Or better yet, inform IA while you're at it. Go get your fucking promotion!” He yelled, raising his voice and turning to face Jennifer.
The petite Asian held up her hands. “Fine, whatever, go tell her, I'm going for a smoke,” She slid off her stool and snatched up her jacket, sauntering towards the exit. When she reached the door, she looked over her shoulder, “I'm only trying to watch your back, Jimmy, protecting you for when the shit hits the fan.” With that she left the two alone.
“She's a bitch.” Destiny said pointing to the direction of the door. “How do you even put up with her?”
Jimmy grunted. “Jennifer? She spent 3 years in the Police Academy, and one year in uniform and she thinks she knows what's what in Robbery/Homicide. She's on the express elevator up. But I'll say this about her, she has good instincts. Now she needs to work on that bedside manner of hers.”
Destiny nodded. “So about this case, you're working on?
Jimmy looked at Frank. “Before we do, let's have another beer and find ourselves a private table.”
He ordered two more Budweisers and the two retreated further down into the bar, finding a private booth near the back window.
Jimmy knocked back his amber liquid first.
“Have you heard of Tony “The Beast” Catalano?”
The name rang an instant bell with Destiny.
“Yeah, I heard his name in the news. Isn't he that big shot Lieutenant in the Lombardo Crime family? Allegedly shot that guy in that Pizzeria over in Little Italy, 6 months back? He's on trial for his murder.” She took a swig of her beer.
Jimmy nodded his head. “ That's the guy. Real savage motherfucker, and the man he shot was Freddy Rizzo, one of our informants. Well, long story short, we spent 6 months building a water tight case against that bastard and now it looks like he might just walk.” He took another drink and sighed.
“Man, we even had witnesses who put Catalano at the Pizzeria on the night of the shooting, putting five 9mm rounds into Rizzo. But guess what?”
Destiny shook her head. “They suddenly developed short term amnesia.”
Jimmy laughed darkly. “Damn straight. And now Catalano's lawyers are stalling, instructing him to plead the Fifth Amendment.” He sat back, nursing his bottle. “This is forcing the department's hand. My captain says if we don't turn this around soon, then he's going to pass the case to the feds, and it will be their headache.”
Destiny reached out, squeezing his hand. “Man, that's rough. What do you know about Catalano?”
Jimmy shrugged. “Catalano? He's not the most liked guy among the major families,” Jimmy chuckled, “In fact not even his own mother likes him. But Don Lombardo has invested a lot in his defence, hiring the best lawyers in Manhattan to get him off.”
“Why? Is he the Don's love child, or something?” She asked, downing more of her beer.
Jimmy shook his head. “Nothing like that. Tony is a Made Man so the Don feels obliged to dig him out of this hole.” he sighed deeply. “The only thing I can think of is if we can get the Don to change his mind and drop his support, then the case will go through and Catalano will have no choice but to confess because he just lost his meal ticket.”
Destiny grinned widely, an idea forming in her mind. “Jimmy, I've got an idea. What do you know about the Don's Operations?”
Jimmy scratched the back of his head. “Well, the Don has his fat fingers in many pies, from Little Italy all the way to the east side of Brooklyn.” He then snapped his fingers. “Of course! Lenny “The Business” Giamatti; he's a big time drug dealer in Clinton Hill who handles the Don's steroid sales in Brooklyn.”
Destiny finished her beer. “Where can I find Lenny?”
“He “owns” a gym, Giamatti Fitness, 576 Monroe Street in Bedford-Stuyvesant. Why? What have you got in mind?”
Destiny rose from her seat, fist bumping him. “Let's just say you might have your case, yet.”
As she turned to leave, Jimmy called after her.
“Desi! Hold up! Just be careful, okay? The Don is one ruthless sonofabitch and if you get caught by the NYPD, I don't know if I can bail you out.”
Destiny turned around smiling. “Please, Jimmy. Do you remember Afghanistan? When I saved your ass? They didn't catch me then and they won't catch me now.” With that she turned on her heels and left the bar.
576 Monroe Street, Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, Outside Giamatti Fitness, Saturday 20th April 2026, 10:00am
Destiny stood outside the three floor Gym, its front sign white dynamic print on a blue background, with the logo, an intertwined stylised “GF”. Through the window she could see quite a few young fit men and women, running on treadmills or rowing on machines. Destiny's eyes naturally fixed onto the gentle curves of the women and how the tight gym clothes they wore emphasised their athletic bodies.
It also gave her an idea. Well, it is a gym after all. I could just enter as a customer and get the lay of the land. Plan my next move from there.
Rolling her shoulders, Destiny walked through the double automatic doors and up to the reception desk.
Behind it stood a cute, young petite brunette with soft blue eyes and long brown hair. She was no more than 18, and wearing a sky blue short sleeve polo shirt, with the gym logo on her left breast, black shorts, white socks and matching gym shoes. The nametag on her right breast read “Cindy”
The girl greeted her with a well rehearsed smile. “Hi, welcome to Giamatti's Fitness. My name is Cindy. Are you here for the free trial?” She asked in a friendly patter.
Destiny returned the smile, ogling the girl as she did so. “Yes. Yes, I'm here for the free trial. Could you set that up for me please, Cindy?”
Cindy nodded. “Of course. If you could give me your name, then I can set that up for you right now.”
“Sure, my name is Laetita Watson.”
Cindy's nimble fingers danced across her keyboard before she turned back from her monitor.
“Thank you, Miss Watson. Your free trial begins now. You can now access the ground floor gym, and meet our personal trainers. But the second and third floors are for members and staff only. The gym and changing rooms are down the hall to your left. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”
Destiny shook her head. “No, thank you Cindy. You've been a great help. Have a nice day.” She said, flashing the girl a wink.
“Have a nice day, and enjoy the gym.” Cindy replied with a smile and a wave.
Destiny proceeded down the hall, noticing men and women, dressed in gym wear with ID badges clipped to their trousers or worn around their necks on lanyards, walking up and down the staircase.
She smiled. It seems the personal trainers are allowed upstairs, so I'll just steal the clothes and pass from one of the female trainers. It will save me the trouble of having to sneak upstairs. All I need to do is find a personal trainer…
She headed through the changing rooms onto the gym, her eyes scanning for a suitable candidate. There were many female trainers that looked suitable, but they were all busy with clients. All except one.
There was a sultry Latina trainer, leaning on the wall by the treadmills and Destiny got the distinct impression she was being mentally undressed by the woman. And she liked it.
She looked sidelong, enticing the trainer with a flick of her hair. The Latina was attractive; with diamond shaped olive skin, high cheekbones and bright almond shaped haze eyes. Around 24 years old by Destiny's guess. Her long raven coloured hair, underneath a white headband that matched her scrunchie and sweatband in her right bicep, was braided into a ponytail that reached down between her shoulder blades. The girl flashed her a sweet smile, Destiny threw one back and checked out her body.
Her knockout, athletic figure was athletic and lean with zero body fat, her well formed C-cup breasts were accentuated by the tight blue lycra mid halter sports she wore. And even tighter green patterned lycra gym pants held her hips snugly. A pair of black gym shoes complimented the outfit. Destiny also noted the woman's staff pass, clipped to her gym pants. She's just my size and coming over right now. This will be easy…
“Hey babe, my name's Conchita. You look a little lost. Is there something I can do to help?” The woman asked, her hazel eyes bright.
Destiny teased a loose strand of her hair. “I don't know. There's so much to choose from. Where do I start?”
The latina drew close, breath brushing Destiny's faith. “I've a few ideas, if you're willing…beautiful.” Conchita flirted, stroking Destiny's forearm gently.
Destiny seized her moment. “Do you have any rooms where we could have a more…private workout session?” She brushed the latina’s hand
Conchita seized her hand and giggled. “We have private rooms in the back, away from prying eyes.”
She led Destiny past the row of treadmills, past double doors and into the corridor beyond. As they neared a broom cupboard to their right, Destiny made her move.
“ Hey, you know something, Conchita?” Destiny purred, stopping at the changing room. “I'm quite the martial artist. Maybe I can give you a quick demonstration? Just for you babe.”
Conchita, so gullible, turned around “I like a pretty girl who can look after herself, good herself…”
Destiny smirked. Hot Chica, but not too bright. She thought, caressing the woman's face, before bringing her right hand edged like a blade down in a sudden sharp backhand chop onto Conchita’s nerve cluster, at the junction of her neck and shoulder.
“Ugh?!” The latina squeaked in equal parts pain and betrayal, her big bright hazel eyes rolling into the back of head. She fell forwards into Destiny, who caught the unconscious latina under her arms.
“Nighty, night. Conchita. Time to get out of those clothes.” She whispered into the woman's ear, dragging her body into the waiting broom cupboard.
Five Minutes Later
‘Sorry sweetheart. On any other day, I would have gladly shown off in front of you. Perhaps even more than that…” Destiny, now dressed in Conchita’s clothes, pulling on the head and sweat band.
At her feet lay curled a bound and scantily clad Conchita, wearing only a sky blue sports bra and matching scanty thong. Her wrists and ankles bound by cable ties, and mouth taped up.
Destiny's eyes admired the toned physique of the attractive latina. She knelt by the unconscious girls, brushing aside a strand of her hair. “Take this for being such a big help, Conchita.” She leant forwards kissing the girl on her cheek. “Thanks for your clothes and your pass.”
Taking Conchita by her ankles, she dragged her deeper into the cupboard concealing her body behind a shelf of cleaning products.
Looping her bag over her shoulder, Destiny swept from the broom cupboard, back through the gym and up the staircase.
Giamatti Fitness 3rd Floor, 10;20am
Her new disguise allowed Destiny to move through the floors without as much as a challenge from gym staff or VIP clientele. She shared nods of greeting from staff who mistook her for one of their own, and for all intents and purposes she was.
Reaching the third floor, Destiny walked past rooms where heavily muscled men received plastic bags full of steroids, in exchange for a few Franklins. And in the adjacent room were counting machines that funnelled that money to mobsters like Catalano.
Reaching a door at the end of the corridor, Destiny looked up seeing a brass sign nailed to the wood that read. “Lenny ‘The Business’ Giamatti.”
“This must be the place.” She said gripping the door knob and knocking twice. There was no answer.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she twisted the knob and pushed forward, finding to her surprise the door open. “Huh? Don't criminals lock their offices? Lucky me…”
She was greeted by a large office that on one side was lined with a number of tacky looking gold weightlifting trophies dating from the early 90s, with a window that looked down onto the street.
In front of the trophy cabinet sat Giamatti's desk, which itself was littered with even more trophies. Destiny snorted. “Someone's a regular Narcissus.” Her eyes were then drawn to the open apple mac book. “Hmm? It couldn't be that easy?”
Walking around the desk her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Well, somebody's all brawn and no brains. Leaving a device unlocked so anyone can access it…” She smiled seeing the switched on device, unlocked, with the logo of the gym flashing proudly across the screen. “...I don't mind if I do.” Destiny smirked, taking a seat as she began rummaging through Lenny’s emails.
Finding a whole stack of emails in Lenny's inbox the man hadn't even bothered to delete, Destiny found numerous references to a strip club called “The Starlight Lounge.” That rang a bell in her head; according to the information Jimmy had sent her, that joint was owned by Frank ‘The Nose’ Lombardo, the Don's nephew and another made man.
She clicked on the most recent email titled ‘Latest Shipment.’ and read aloud. “ Hiya Frank. Thanks for the latest shipment of go juice buddy, now I feel pumped. Will swing by the Starlight Lounge tonight, make sure that sweet piece of ass Amii is working? Or was it Annie? You know the waitress with the cat tattoo? Doesn't matter, I want a private show. Alright, catch you later. ‘The Business’ Destiny made a vomiting sound in her mouth. “Man, I need a shower just reading that. But I have my next bread crumb…”
Using Google maps, she quickly found the address of The Starlight Lounge. “333 Lincoln Place, Prospect Heights, Brooklyn. Time to go.”
Leaving the place as she found it, Destiny stepped out into the corridor brushing past a tall bald middle aged muscle man that could only be ‘The Business’ himself. Lenny didn't even register her presence as he went into his office.
Destiny picked up the pace as she backtracked down the stairs. “All those steroids, they rot your brains. Among other things…”
Ground Floor 10:25am
Finding her way back to the broom cupboard where she had stashed Conchita, Destiny ignored the angry, tearful and muffled protests of the squirming scantily clad latina.
“I don't know why you're complaining, Conchita?” Destiny said as she changed out of Conchita’s clothes and back into her own. “At least you get your clothes back. Not everyone can say that.”
When she was finished Destiny flashed Conchita a cheeky wink. “Thanks, you've been a great help.” The woman screamed onto her gag as Destiny shut the door on her for a second time.
Striding past the reception desk, Destiny caught the eye of Cindy. “Hi again. Did you enjoy your workout?”
Destiny flashed her a smile on her way out. “Yeah, I had a lot of fun. Hardly broke a sweat.”
Chuckling, she marched out of the gym and towards her waiting car.
The Starlight Lounge, 333 Lincoln Place, Prospect Heights, Brooklyn, 11:30am
Destiny had been to many dives in her time, mostly during her younger, wilder days as an army recruit before she had met her ex-girlfriend Tessa.
But the Starlight Lounge had to be the dive and dives. Then again it was a mafia run club in an old two storey structure, its front facade a silhouette of a naked woman riding a shooting star, below it read “The Starlight Lounge”.
She sat in her car, watching a few men enter through the front despite the hour. Looks like something's going down, I need to get in there but not through the front door… Getting out of her car, she noticed a small back alley to the rear of the club. Excellent, I'll take the back door and grab a disguise if possible. Crossing the road, Destiny entered the alley.
It opened out into a small courtyard, to the right was a black service door and next to it the right was a row of dumpsters. Suddenly, the door opened. Destiny hunkered down and took cover behind the dumpster, she peered around the corner to get a look of who had emerged.
It was a pretty young woman, no more than 21 years old with smooth rounded pale features, gentle cheekbones and blue doe shaped eyes, long chestnut brown hair tied with a purple scrunchie into a high ponytail and a cute pierced right nostril. Her slim, petite figure was hugged by a violent tank top with the ‘Starlight Lounge’ legend and logo splashed across her small but buoyant breasts, and a nametag pinned on the right breast, tight blue denim jeans belted at the waist and black heels. Gracing her slender neck was a black filigree choker.
The cutie leant against the wall, took out her smartphone from her rear pocket and began scrolling. Destiny smiled.
Looks like she's a waitress, or perhaps a stripper who's also a waitress. Either way, she's a little shorter but with that outfit it wouldn't matter much. She'll have to do…
Taking out her trusty lucky coin, Destiny tossed it over the dumpster and behind the waitress.
“Huh? What the hell was that?” The girl said with a local Brooklyn twang, turning her back to Destiny.
That was all the invitation she needed. Destiny advanced quickly on the unsuspecting brunette, coiling her right arm around the waitress's pretty neck and pushing her head slightly forward with the left, cutting off the blood flow to her brain.
The girl let out a surprised, choked squeak, dropping her smartphone to the tarmac from loose fingers. Destiny drew the limp waitress to the concrete, her consciousness fading with a gentle “uhhh…”
“Sweet dreams…Amii, it's nothing personal.” Destiny whispered into the unconscious girl's ear, holding the chokehold to check the girl wasn't feigned, she glanced at Amii's smartphone. “Instagram? Let this be a lesson to you, honey, social media rots your brain. Now let's get you out of those clothes, there doesn't seem much to strip off…”
Taking Amii under her shoulders, Destiny dragged her limp body around the back of the dumpster, taking a little feel of her young breasts as she did so. “Wow, someone's brave and wearing a bra. Was that just for me? You shouldn't have, babe.”
After she stripped off her clothes, including her white bra, Destiny got to work. She first removed Ami's choker from her throat and put it on herself, before pulling off the tanktop exposing her young, well formed B-cup breasts with puffy pink areolas and stiff nipples and a pierced navel “Cute tits, Amii. If I wasn't in a hurry…”
Pulling on the stolen tanktop, Destiny unfastened the denim shorts, working them past the waitresses slender hips and whipping them down her long dancer's legs, which revealed a double surprise.
A neon pink lace g-string thong covering what little modesty Amii had and a small cheeky cat tattoo on her hip, visible just above and to the right of the gussets hem line. Destiny grinned. “Very cute, Amii, I like a girl with a little ink.”
Once she had finished getting dressed in the rest of Amii's clothes, including her heels, Destiny bound together Amii's wrists and ankles with cable ties and gagged her with duct tape. Then she hauled Amii's half naked body into a fireman's carry, and placed her inside. Next to her, Destiny placed her rucksack packed with her clothes. “Keep an eye on this, babe.” She quipped, closing the dumpster lid on the unconscious Amii.
“Oldest trick in the book.” Destiny grinned, stopping to retrieve her lucky coin. She flipped and caught the silver dollar, popping it into the pocket of her stolen shorts before slipping through the side door and into the club.
Starlight Lounge Interior, 11:45am
Amii's clothes allowed Destiny through the darkened main club, where sat a group of men watching two half naked girls shaking their asses on the stage to an edgy clubland beat. Past the main bar, Destiny went through a door marked ‘VIP:- Members Only.”
She had gotten a little past the VIP bar when a deep, Brooklyn accent stopped her in tracks.
“Hey, girly. Get that pretty little ass over here! I've got work for you.”
She turned to see a tall heavy set olive skinned man behind the bar, dressed in a black tuxedo beckoning her with his hand.
Answering with a nod, Destiny approached him.
“I need you to take this to the boss's office…” he said, turning to place a bottle of Johnnie Walker whiskey, along with five tumblers and a bowl of ice onto a tray. “…he's having a few rounds of poker with his friends and they need some liquid refreshment.
Destiny smiled, taking up the tray onto her right hand. “How do I get to the boss's office?” She asked innocently.
The bartender smiled. “See that door to your right?” he gestured with his head. “Go through there and right past the private viewing rooms, up the stairs. It will be the door on your third right, the room overlooking the private floor.”
Thanking the man, she left the bar and followed his directions.
The Office of Frank ‘The Nose’ Lombardo, 11:57am
Destiny knocked twice on the heavy wooden door.
“Enter.” Answered a deep Brooklyn accented voice.
As she entered the room, one of the five men whistled from the poker table set in the middle of the room. From the amount of cash in the middle, the pot was well in excess of a thousand bucks.
“Look at her! There isn't an ugly broad in your bar, Frankie!” said a sallow faced skinny man, who wore his fedora at a jaunty angle. While the others chortled
A young man with a predatory smile and a large hooked nose gestured at her. “Come on over, sweetheart. Don't let Sylvester’s lack of manners scare you.”
Nodding and smiling, Destiny walked over to the poker table and proceeded to pour out the whiskey and ice.
She could feel the eyes of the five men on her, but it was Frank whose gaze lingered the longest. Once she was finished, Destiny turned to leave but Frank gently took her hand.
“Hold up, sweetheart…” he smiled, casting an appreciative eye over her figure, and suddenly Destiny felt dirty. “...you've gotta be a new hire right? I should give Luigi a raise for hiring such a sweet piece of ass. I told him he should think about hiring some black girls, and here we are.”
One of the other men, an overweight sweaty bald man with watery grey eyes chuckled. “Nothing wrong with a little variety. I find ebony girls very pleasing to look at.”
Sylvester shuffled the cards. “You won't hear that in an Irish pub.” That sent a ripple of laughter across the table.
Frank rubbed the back of Destiny's hand, doubling down. “If you're interested…Amii,” he read her stolen nametag, “we should have a little private ‘chat’ at my estate later. When I've finished cleaning these schmucks out, of course. So what do you say, doll?”
Destiny felt the anger inside her rise at the man’s assumptions but forced it down into her stomach. She just smiled suggestively, nodded and retreated towards the door, Frank's eyes following her ass.
“Lucky bastard…” She heard Sylvester say as she closed the door behind her.
Shuddering slightly, Destiny placed her ear to the door. After hearing five minutes of the men complimenting her figure and sucking up to Frank, she heard something that caught her ear.
“That's a bluff Frankie, I'll raise you fifty bucks.” Came Sylvester’s slick voice. “So tell Sal and Vinnie what you said to me about Valentino.” She heard Frank pause to drink his whiskey before answering.
“ Valentino De Rossi. My uncle's consigliere. He's a big name in the music industry, owns a big record label called Big Apple Records out of Lower Manhattan. He knows everything there is to know about the old man; Every dirty little secret. And he's the money man as well. Earns way more than that punk Giamatti.” He then slammed something onto the table. “And I see that bet, Sly and raise 100 bucks you fucking lightweight.”
Hearing all she needed to, Destiny took out her phone and ran a search for Big Apple Records. “Bingo,” She whispered, “Corner of Canal Street and Broadway.”
Replacing her phone, Destiny quickly backtracked through the club and back to her car, having no desire to have a personal ‘chat’ with Frank and his nose.
Corner of Canal Street and Broadway, Lower Manhattan, NYC, 12:30pm
From her car across from the Big Apple recording studio, Destiny could see that the recording studio was in a three floor building. The entrance was guarded by two burly suited bouncers that flanked a revolving door, and the reception desk manned by an alert young female concierge.
Destiny glanced to the side alley around the corner, and then to her stolen clothes. Somehow I don't they’ll let me in dressed like a stripper, so I’ll go round the back and see if I can't get a change of clothes..
Getting out of her car, Destiny unclipped the nametag from her tanktop and looped her bag over her shoulder before walking across the street and into the alley.