Michele Bravo Playing With Fire Ch 9

Keller poked his head out of the bathroom.

“I neglected to bring in some fresh clothes,” he told Michele, who was sitting propped up on the bed, remote control in her hand, flicking through the channels.”Could you toss me some jeans and a shirt?”

As Michele rose and flipped open his suitcase, she mentally awarded him a gold star. She didn’t care for men she barely knew walking around in front of her in their underwear, even if they did think she thought they were cold-hearted assassins.

She picked up a pair of boxer shorts, some cargo shorts, and a black t-shirt, and carried them over to him.

“You’re a gallant,” she told him.

Keller smiled. “Put not off your clothes in the presence of others, nor go out of your chamber half dressed,” he said.

“I don’t recognize the quote?”

“George Washington’s 110 Rules to Live By,” said Keller.

Keller disappeared back into the bathroom and Michelle returned to her channel surfing, stopping when she came to a cricket match. Cricket and snooker, two sports she’d formed a fondness for in her travels. Soccer? Not so much.

Keller emerged and said, “This is a great view,” indicating the very large plate glass windows that had an excellent view over Sydney Harbor.

“Well, Keller,” said Michele. “Our first day in Sydney. We’re not going to get down to business until tomorrow, so we’ve got the day free. Shall we explore Sydney together, or did you want to retire to your own room for some shut eye?”

“I’m feeling pretty wide awake at the moment,” said Keller. “Although I expect to hit the wall in a few hours.”

Michele had thought he would. One he has asleep, she’d go back out into the city and conduct here own business. She had some people to meet, some scenarios to prepare, and she didn’t want Keller at her side while she did them….since they were going to be for his benefit.

They took the high speed elevator down to the lobby of the hotel, and took a look at the rack of brochures that beckoned to passing tourists.

“Museum of Contemporary Art?” asked Michele, and Keller nodded.

“Then the Art Gallery of New South Wales. That should be enough art for one day.”

“They look like they’re in walking distance,” mused Keller. “Or did you want to call a cab?”

Michele, in her fat suit, shrugged and looked demure. “I’ll live dangerously,” she said.

Normally Michele was an ambler, unless one of the many personas she adopted dictated otherwise. But she set a more than brisk walking pace and noted maliciously after a couple of miles that Keller was puffing slightly.

Not that she wasn’t having her own problems. She was extremely fit, and the fat suit was made of the best and lightest materials, but that didn’t change the fact that it was hot, and so was Sydney, Australia on this particular day. Her face was covered with a fine sheen of perspiration..and as for the rest of her...

“Thank god,” she said, as she spied an icecream parlor. “Let’s go in.”

They each had a banana split – a banana split is a banana split the world over – and then resumed their journey.

The museum and gallery were blissfully cool, and Michele and Keller chatted quite amiably and knowledgeably about the various pieces of art at which they looked. Then they returned to the hotel – via cab.

Keller went into his own bedroom, took off everything but his boxer shorts, and fell into bed. Michele, after giving him thirty minutes to fall well and truly asleep, went back downstairs and hailed a taxi. She told the driver the address, then sat back and relaxed.

Operation Assassinate was about to be set in motion.