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Protecting Your Charge( Dr Curiosity & Sweet Angel Jocelyn

D

Dr Curiosity

Super-Earth
Joined
Jun 6, 2010
In a life of crime, things never go what one might consider good. Less bad maybe, but never good. It went bad, worse, and shit. For Kenneth Gladney, professional to the most dangerous mafia in the world, 'shit' came around quite a bit. However, Mr. Gladney was they best of the best. No bodyguard protected a charge like he did. Then again, no bodyguard trained like Gladney had. Madam Ko's school of ultimate discipline was not somewhere you just saw in the daily paper. It was for the elite, and only the elite. So, that's what Kenneth Gladney was, elite. He guarded his charge with his life, and made sure he knew the consequence of a thousand steps before taking one.

This situation, was nothing more than a simple relocation mission for the man who gave him his paycheck. Not as though he needed the money. All his expenses were paid for, so the money went to Mr. Gladney's younger sister Angeline.

Sitting in the comfortable chair of the private Lear Jet, Mr. Gladney participated in his favorite pass time. Cleaning his revolver. On the table before him were multiple bottles of lubricant and oils, which he used to fine tune his gun. Across from him was his charge. The free spirited rebel daughter of the big boss. A waste of space if you asked Kenneth, but none asked Kenneth anyway. Looking up for a split second, then down, he shook his head. A waste of space, but a damn beautiful waste of space.
 
Mid-back length golden blonde hair and big brown eyes were one thing that Anya Romanov had going for her. Those, added to a beautiful face and a fabulous body made the young woman something to contend with. While she wasn't always the smartest person around, in fact, Anya was a bit of a ditz, she could still beat anyone with a single look. Frowns were rare things on her lovely face, she was usually smiling and ready to have whatever fun she could have. And, as the pampered daughter of a known mafia boss, she had a lot of fun.

Except for where she was at that moment. She was bored to death on the plane, watching her personally body guard clean his gun. She wanted to be doing something, but on that plane there wasn't a single thing that she could do. "Come on, Gladney." She said, actually frowning. She had her legs up over another chair, which was a bit of a display in her short black shorts.
 
"Come on?" Kenneth looked up from his gun at Anya with an annoyed look. "As I'm sure you know, there are not many places to go on a plane. Even a private one Ms. Romanov." He looked back down, but not before giving a quick glance over her body. This was something he found Anya did often, wear clothes to reveal her body, and boy did she have a nice one. Not that Kenneth would say so allowed, he was too professional for that.

Mr. Gladney was not that bad of a catch himself. He had an extremely nice face, with a broad, chiseled chin, leading up to small pursed lips and a small button nose. His iris's were dark green, which went very well with very, very light diamond freckles that were on the upper cheeks of his face. "Now, I assume you desire some sort of entertainment?" He said, closing the bottles on the table, and putting them in the case. Standing up, Kenneth holstered the revolver in his coat holster.

Anya's bodyguard looked very much how you expect one to look. He wore a fancy black and white Armani suit, with polished loafers and dress socks underneath. His hair was a kept neat, short on the sides, and well kept on top, splitting in the middle to let it the hair move off to the sides. Underneath his suit was what most people wanted. A dream body. Kenneth worked out almost everyday, and it showed. His body was rock hard, and chiseled into the form that one would depict on a god.
 
Anya frowned. "Do something with me." She clarified. "No need to be a smart ass." She nodded her head when he went on that she wanted to be entertained. "I finished my book, and now I don't have anything to do." She whined. She was sick, as well, of watching him playing with his stupid gun. She liked watching him, he was one of the most attractive men she'd ever met, but of course, she wasn't going to admit that. Nor would she admit that most of the time she wore her revealing clothes for his sake.

"Play with me." She said with a soft pout. She knew that sentence could come out one of two ways, and she really hoped that he would take it in sexual terms so that she could see his reaction. "We have cards in the plane." She added after a couple of seconds. "How about we play some kind of game?" She offered.
 
Kenneth grimaced at her comment of him being a hard ass. If he wasn't one, he wouldn't be the only qualified man for this job. Mr. Romanov hired Kenneth Gladney three months ago because he was the best of the best, and had years of experience, while only being 32 years old. "You didn't consider bringing more than one book? We have no idea how long we will be away. It would be good if you had some sort of pass time other than putting yourself in danger." It was only truth. In the three months he had been assigned to Anya, he understood why she needed his services. She liked to run her own life, and run it into the ground is what she was doing, in Kenneth's opinion. Try as he might to teach her life preserving skills, she ran off and did as she pleased, and Mr. Gladney had to track her down and kick an ass or two to get her back.

"Play with you..." The words lingered in his brain. If only. It was true, Kenneth was very attracted to Anya, as almost all men were. She was gorgeous, and had a knack for making her body pop out towards men. This made the task of guarding her even harder than normal. She attracted all the wrong people. Mr. Romanov made it clear she was not to have any relation with street drabble, and that was how it was kept, even to her objection.

Looking around, Kenneth saw no threat in playing cards. They were, after all, thousands of feet above ground. "Very well Ms. Romanov. We can play cards."
 
Anya knew that her father didn't trust her with her life. She had turned eighteen three months before, and Kenneth Gladney had been something of a birthday present for her, he went with her new apartment. Her father had insisted that if she was going to live on her own, she was going to have someone watching out for her. She'd been pissed all to hell.

Anya didn't see any change in the man at her first suggestion, and she was disappointed, hoping that he would have given her a better indication that she'd broken his tough exterior. "I'll get books when we land." She said. "And if I don't find any, I will just have Daddy send me some." She shrugged and stood up, going to one of the cabinets that was in the plane. From it, she pulled out a deck of cards, and when she returned, she was smiling slyly.

"Alright, Mr. Man." She said, taking her seat again and crossing her legs. "How about poker?" She asked. "Strip. Poker." She added slowly, punctuating each of the two words with a shuffle of the cards. "What do you say?"
 
"'Daddy' can't send you books Anya, its not safe." Said Kenneth, taking a seat once again as Anya got a deck of cards. It was ridiculous how much his charge undermined the severe reasons of why they were leaving the country anyway. Kenneth was forced repeatedly to explain it to her, and it seemed that she cared less and less each time. It didn't matter though, it was her job to be protected, nothing else. It was Mr. Gladney's job to protect by any means necessary. Which was a job that suited him well.

"Poker?" He was going to say sure, until she added the next part. Strip poker. The thought made him take a steady look at Anya. Kenneth was good at poker, and wouldn't it be a sight to look at Anya Romanov naked. A sight indeed. But no, this was a professional relationship not sexual relations. "Isn't normal poker good enough Anya?" He hoped she would let it go, but unfortunately she knew the rules of bodyguards.

Rule #12: A bodyguard must follow any instruction presented by a charge, so long as it does not put the charge in harms way.

Kenneth prayed that she would not quote the rules on him, and force him to play.
 
Anya pouted for a second at what he said, before she shrugged. "I will find a book someway." She told him simply. And she knew that one way or another she would find a new book to read. She was very sure of the fact that she would get that book. Maybe a new Catherine Anderson. She'd like that.

She smiled when he suggested just normal poker. She didn't know if that would be smart to remind him that if she insisted that he would have to do it. She continued to shuffle the cards, looking at him thoughtfully. "But that's no fun." She said, frowning. "Oh well. We'll hold the strip poker for later. You'd probably cheat anyway." She said, laugh before nodding. "Regular poker for now." And she started to deal the cards.
 
Kenneth took that as a challenge. No, fuck a challenge. Anya had just insulted him. It was nothing to do with the fact that it was strip poker, it was that she said he would cheat. "Cheat?" He looked around as though Anya might have been talking to someone else. Kenneth couldn't let that one slide. Standing up, he cleared the area, and locked the cockpit. The door was reversed to lock from the outside. One couldn't have the pilots just walking into the common area for anything. There were certain procedures in protecting an important person.

When he returned, Kenneth had a determined look on his face. "Okay," he said, looking Anya in the eyes. "Let's do it your way."
 
Anya found herself raising an eyebrow as the man stood to lock the cockpit. She was amused by the image, and couldn't help but laugh slightly as he made his way back to her. She watched as he looked into her eyes and told they would be doing it her way. She grinned at that and nodded.

"We bet one piece of clothing at a time." She told him, nodding toward his hand. "come play." She told him.
 
One good thing about being a bodyguard playing poker, was an excellent poker face. Kenneth's was completely devoid of emotion. "Ladies first Ms. Romanov." Kenneth never went first, he always thought it bad luck. In truth, he had a rather horrible hand, and hoped Anya's would be worse than his.
 
Anya opened her hand and looked down at it, taking in the five cards. She took two and laid them face down before getting two new ones. "I bet my shirt." She said, plucking at the t-shirt, before raising her eyebrow at him, daring him to go along.
 
Looking himself over, Kenneth kept his neutral face. Two down, as he looked in his hand. He had an Ace and a four as a decent hand. No point in building a big pot. Each winning hand in one on one was a piece removed. He copied her move. "Bet my jacket." Equivalent. She had a bra, he had a jacket and shirt. Fair enough in Kenneth's eyes.
 
Anya had a fair hand with a seven, eight, and nine. It was starting off pretty good for her. When he said he bet his jacket she frowned, but shrugged, it was pretty fair she supposed, and she'd get his clothes off anyway, with her wins. "I'll raise you, my shoes." She said.
 
Kenneth nodded, pretty sure he could win. "I raise." That left another raise, why not strip off another piece of closing with a winning hand. "My pants." Kenneth's eyes were cold and calculating, as he watched his opponent with all knowing eyes. Sadly, Anya had a very, all the time one emotion face. Not so good for face readers.
 
Anya raised an eyebrow and smiled. "I'll match that." She told him, looking at her hand. She couldn't read his face, but that didn't mean much to her, because she was always a risk taker. With that done, the blonde laid out her cards, a straight.
 
Damn it! Anya had him beat. A straight to Three of a Kind. Kenneth had three 10's, a Q, and a 3. She had beat him, with three pieces of clothing as the post. Kenneth's eyes narrowed. Perhaps her calling him a cheat had lured him into a miserable trap.
 
Anya was never a very good poker player. She hadn't actually been planning to trap him, just to make him a little uncomfortable. She was able to giggle when she saw that she had won. "Alright. Stick with the bet." She said, looking expectantly at him, looking forward to seeing him in just his shirt and boxers.
 
Kenneth made the most savage grimace he could muster, but in the end he had to oblige. He didn't even have to get up to kick off his loafers, but decided it best for the rest. Letting his jacket slip off, he threw it to a chair on his right, and proceeded to the worst part. He wagered his pants, a dumb move. Sucking up his pride, Mr. Gladney undid the thick leather belt on his dress pants, before unbuttoning the slacks themselves. The silky material dropped of their own accord, revealing a pair of deep red Armani boxer briefs. Of course you could see a remarkably nice sized member under the material. Kenneth quickly sat down before Anya saw too much.
 
Amara smiled as he went about undressing. She was still looking forward to seeing all of him, but that would have to wait. She was shuffling as she watched him undress, and she smiled with appreciation at what she saw, especially the package hidden under his boxer briefs. She thought for a moment that she might want to try that, but then, she decided against that. He sat down and she started to deal again.
 
Kenneth was in the process of reaching for his hand when a loud buzz filled the area. It was the cockpit alert. Getting up, the hulking bodyguard crossed the room in long, powerful strides. He tapped the buzzer. "Gladney." He stated flatly.

"This is the pilot. We are dropping altitude in less than three minutes. You and Miss Romanov need to buckle in sir."

"Very well." Kenneth was about to step back, but came back to the buzzer. "For future reference, ten minutes is the proper forewarning time."

"Come on Gladney, this is a--"

"Understood?" Said Kenneth, cutting him off. The pilot knew than Mr. Gladney was about business. None of this fuck around shit he suspected the pilot of being used to. With Kenneth, there would be no margin for error. Everything would be done the right way.

"Yes sir."

"Thank you. Take us down at the appointed time." With that, he turned from the door, back to..his clothes. "Sorry Miss, we're landing soon. Perhaps we can finish once we've settled in." Kenneth began putting his clothed back on, jacket and all. Once done, he awaited Anya, to make sure she was in the appointed seats, as there were very few with actual seat belts on the jet.
 
Anya frowned when the buzz filled the air. That boded ill for them. And when she heard that they would need to stop and buckle up, she frowned disappointed. She heard the way Kenneth was talking to the pilot, and couldn't say she liked it, but she let it go, simply getting into the right seat with the belt and sat back after securing herself.

"So, what's our story again?" She asked, looking over at the man. She knew it annoyed him when she asked, because she'd been told so many times. She just liked seeing his reaction to any of her questions.
 
Kenneth sighed silently. This was, after all, his fifth time telling her. "Okay. We are a married couple moving to America for financial purposes. I am a major shareholder in the Harris Bros. Corporation, moving to New York to protect my investments in an ever falling economy. You are my young wife, who has an aspiration of modeling. We have already set you up with an audition next week. We will live a normal life as a normal couple should." He pulled a notepad from his jacket pocket, and looked it over. "As such, there are list of things that normal people do. Kind of odd stuff if you asked me." Then again, neither Kenneth nor Anya had had very normal lives.

"So, do you understand the basic level Miss Anya?"
 
Anya could only nod as he told her about the plan for what they were to do. She understood the basics of what they were supposed to do with their new little life. "I suppose that pictures of me getting out aren't a big worry?" She asked to clarify, because that was a question she'd wondered about. She knew she was attractive enough to be a model, but she was supposed to be in hiding.
 
"It's just a front Anya. You're not meant to get the part. Several of my colleagues are supposed to accompany us. As far as your concerned, the photos don't even exist. Blanks is all they are. The photographers are going to be missing a whole day's worth of photos and won't realize it. They will have no callback number, and our explanation is you just didn't get job. Simple enough right?" He pocketed the notepad again, and secured his buckle as he felt the plane shift slightly, they were going to be circling the city soon, declining as they did so. "Trust me Anya, your father has thought of all this, and has entrusted me your safety."

True, Mr. Gladney had asked this same question when he was briefed. The assurance didn't quite sway him though, and he would later see that these photo shots were taken to personally. He didn't quite trust people. In fact, he didn't trust anybody accept his sister, and occasionally his conscious.
 
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