Taking a Dangerous Job
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“Emily, come on. The meeting about this operation is about to start” coming down the hall, the Sargent calls out to me as he passes my door to my office.
I stand up from my desk walking out of my office. We all sit in our chairs around the vast square office table. Sargent stands at the head of the table, waiting for all of us to get settled in.
My name is Emily Brown. I am New York’s top private investigator and work for the NYPD. We are always looking for Mafia lords, leaders, and their workers. My goal is to take all of them out while having this place clean of crime and illegal dealings. I have been after one Mafia King for over six months but can’t get anything on him.
Today’s the day I go into deep undercover work to make sure I bring him down.
“Ok, here’s the deal. We want to take this Jackson guy down as fast as we can. Our office has been after him for eight years, but we can not ever get anything on him. Emily is going deep undercover with his club tonight. She will be working as a waitress at the Blue Moon. As soon as she walks out of this office, we cannot talk to her about anything. She will contact us when she is ready or able to. Her job is to get in with Jackson and persuade him to even go after her. If she can gain access to his organization, she can give us intel on him to where we can maybe take him and all of the leaders down with him,” looking at the task force around him.
I speak up, trying to assure everyone that I will do my best to stay safe but keep in touch as soon as possible. “Look, I know that I’m going into the lion’s den with this job, but my face is not published everywhere, so I’m changing my name and looks to ensure I’m not recognized, or my cover is blown. I have an appointment where my hair will be changed to black(now sandy blonde), and they will show me how to put on my makeup to help me look different. I have taken many people down; they just haven’t seen my face a lot because I’m doing all the work in the background. I’m known by my name only. The investigators who work for me always take the assignments and then give them to me. I have gone to great lengths to ensure my face isn’t over magazines or billboards. Only my name.”
The guys at the table mumble that they don’t like the idea. They shift in their seats, uncomfortable with this idea, but I am determined to make this work. The Sargent nods his head, so I get up heading out to the salon. They set me down in a chair, getting to work on my hair. They dye it jet black making sure that it is down to the roots. The lady tells me that I have to come back once a month to touch my hair up unless I want my natural color to come through.
That night, I walked up to a massive club that had just opened a few years ago dressed as a bartender. The bouncer stops me while I give them my name Jasmine Woods. He looks at his list of new hires and then nods his head. As I walk into this massive place, all I can do is look at it in awe. It drips of money. Do I know there is a secret area where all the business will be held? It will take time to find it and then be trustworthy enough to access all of the areas around here; turning around, a handsome man walks up to me with a huge smile.
“Hello, my name is Mateo. I am one of the head bouncers here. Who might you be?” he scans my petite body with a smirk.
“I am Jasmine; some people call me Jazz, so either one will work,” keeping my eyes locked on his.
“You are the head bartender?” he asks in surprise.
“Yes, I have worked behind the bar for years” is not a lie. I did four years of bartending while getting my degree.
“Exactly how old are you?” he steps close to me and towers over me by at least a foot.
“Twenty-six, about to turn twenty-seven” feeling the heat of his body is almost enough to make my legs go weak.
“Let’s see exactly how good you are” he nods to the bar and then follows behind at a very close distance to where my body feels a little intimated by him.
Stepping behind the bar, I look him in the eye. “What would you like, sir?”
“I will give you ten drinks to make me, then I will tell you if you stay here or not,” he grins at me, but I am not backing down from this.
“I want a Moscow Mule, Aperol Spritz, Margarita, Espresso Martini, Dry Martini, Manhattan, Daiquiri, Whiskey Sour, Negroni, and an Old Fashioned,” he watches as I prepare each drink for him.
Did he have to give me this list? Some of these are not the easiest to prepare, but I take each one making them to perfection. When each one is finished, my hand lines them up in front of him as they are prepared. When I am finished, he takes a sip of each one; my eyes watch his face lights up as he finishes the last few.
“I have to say; you are outstanding. I gave you a hard list, but you nailed it,” he grins as he slides off the stool, walking away.
Another woman walks up, sticking her hand out to me with a smile. “You must be the new hire. My name is Precious, or that is my bar name. All the guys give you a bar name if you don’t have one; it makes it easier to remember for them, so they don’t have to think when they need something.”
Leaning back against the mahogany wood bar that reaches over twenty feet down from one side of a hall to the other, “How long have you been here?”
She picks up a glass, flipping it in the air. “Only six months. I just got out of college, so I needed a gig to help me pay the bills while getting my career going.”
“So, you tend the bar too?” She spins the glass handle around her finger.
“Not too much. I failed when he gave me the list to mix. I can do the easier ones, but I don’t know how to mix them when you get into the tough drinks. I have just been watching how the workers back here do them but never got my degree in this. I have been doing some here and there, but they keep me on the floor so much that there is not much time to learn,” plunking the glass down on a rubber mat.
“How busy do you guys get?” looking around the place that has four floors.
“Very, with you being the head bartender, they may pull you up to the VIP rooms from time to time. The boss also has pulled for his big parties thrown up in his private suite on the top floor,” she points to a solid glass area on the top floor with blacked-out windows.
“What happened to the last one who was here?” bringing my eyes back to hers.
She shrugs. “Don’t know; he just disappeared one night without returning.”
Huh, now I know what needs to be done to get up there so that my ears can hear what is going on in his organization.