THE HARVEST

CHAPTER THREE: TWO GHOSTS, PART ONE THE GATHERING STORM       p. 14 

At the motel, the Two Ghosts, Kittie and Steve, both walked to the check-in area. They had three cases that held their possession. What they did possess, they purchased at large warehouse stores. Steve had insisted on stopping at a few gun shows to pick up extra weapons that didn't require registration. He didn't want to leave them in the van, risking theft. Inside two cases were: two Glock 23s (generation six, favored for ambidextrous use), two Romanian AK-47s (the cheapest he could find), two snub-nose revolvers—a Smith & Wesson .357 for Kittie and a Ruger SP101 for himself—and a backup .38, that expense took up most of Wescott's petty cash.

Steve thought, This is perhaps why Wescott made sure they had plenty of funds, because he knew they'd need to shoot their way out of this.

The lobby was clear of guests, and the two spies approached the motel clerk. Kittie thought, This girl is too young, also. I wondered if she was real or a hallucination like the Tim Hortons clerk. She wanted to ask her or touch her to see if she was corporeal, but resisted the urge. Kittie looked at Steve and wondered the same. The whole lobby felt weird.

The young female clerk asked, "May I be of service?"

"Yes," replied Steve. He placed his two cases down beside him. "I am Bill Jones, and this is my bride, Sharon. I think you're expecting us."

"Yes, we are. Your registration is taken care of by my uncle, Inspector Trembley. You don't have to do a thing; the night is already paid for, and your credit cards are already registered in our system. All you have to do is allow the scanner to read your numbers tattooed on your left hand."

"I thought those were all the same."

"No, they're all different, like fingerprints." Steve began to act nervous.

Kittie asked, "You look like the clerk who served us over at the Tim Hortons, a few moments ago. Do you know her?"

"I know everybody around these parts...could be."

Kittie continued to interrogate the girl, "I notice that no one around here has the sign of the beast on their left hand, but they do have the same star on their ring finger. What does that stand for?"

The motel clerk replied, "No one in the Kootenay area bears the mark of the beast, but all of age wear the star on their ring finger. We are protected from the beast by the Great Sky Spirit. As for the symbol's meaning, you would not understand. Oh, and sir, you will not be allowed to possess the weapons in your cases, it is forbidden."

Steve stopped daydreaming about the young girl and suddenly became alert. "We go nowhere without them. Your Inspector knows us."

The clerk replied, "He is the one who told me to take them from you. He said to tell you that you will not need them while you are here. He also said they will be returned to you at the border when you reenter the United States of America, and that these rules are a part of the bargain with your government." Steve looked down to grab his weapons and walk out of the motel when he noticed the cases were gone. He looked behind him. Kittie felt for her sidearm, her trusty 38, and found only an empty holster. They both looked up and started to complain to the young clerk, only to find a middle-aged man standing in front of them.

Kittie said, "Where is the girl who was just waiting on us?"

The man said, "I've been here all along. Now, here is the contract for your open-ended stay. When you do decide to check out, come to us for your receipt; everything is made up for you in the best honeymoon suite we have available. I hope you enjoy your stay."

Kittie stuttered, "But...but..." When Steve grabbed her by her arms and picked up the bag of clothing at the same time.

He said, "Don't you see, Kittie?" We are up against a power beyond our ability to resist. We are not going to have weapons on this mission. We will have to play ball in their court." As they continued to the elevator to find their room, they were met by the concierge.

"Oh," the concierge said. "I am so happy I caught you; wouldn't you know I couldn't get the elevator door to open? Mr. and Mrs. Jones, you are our VIP guests for as long as you stay." This woman didn't have a trace of a Canadian accent. "Let me tell you about your room; it is our very best honeymoon suite. Of course, you will have the traditional heart-shaped bed, and the wall is mirrored both above the bed and the hot tub for an erotic stay. The TV is state of the art with a 3-D projection platform for our interactive movies and porn. The room has a sex swing, a bondage room, and all the toys a couple could want, and all brand new, of course. If there is anything you want, just call me or the other two concierges on duty. All your meals will be brought to you; you can order by 3-D phone or just call the concierge line day or..."

Steve stopped her. "We appreciate all the work and thought you have put into this, but we have our plans worked out, but breakfast would be great. When we are here, we'll let you know. I notice you also bear the mark of the beast. Why do you wear it, and most other people up here don't?"

The concierge replied, "Most concierges and sex workers have the mark of the beast, like you. It is not that the people who live here are prudish about sex. They just prefer to let us interact with the honeymooners. Oh, that reminds me. We have many sex workers who are employed by the motel, both male and female, and that includes me and the other concierges, and we expect no tips as we are handsomely paid by our employer. This is all offered to enhance your honeymoon stay. We make sure that all sex workers who work for us have monthly checkups for STDs. I will leave the two of you alone. Have a pleasant and erotic night. The two spies walked on the elevator and pressed the six to get to the penthouse rooms".

Kittie opened the door to the honeymoon suite. While Steve mumbled. He said, "I don't like this being scanned stuff; who knows what that will reveal about us?"

Kittie said, "Shut up, and look at this room; we've been scanned before."

Steve looked up, amazed at the ambience; what could only be described as a sex lair, the kind one might expect a playboy to own. There were all the things the concierge mentioned, plus a stripper pole, and the bed was equipped with fastening hoops for handcuffs or rope that were carefully displayed hanging from the wall on both sides of the bed, along with an assortment of whips, some he had never heard of before. Ah, he could say, "Man!"

Kittie grabbed his hand, looked him in the eye, and said, "Now, this is a perk."

They tried to make love that night, but it felt like sticky figures awkwardly trying to fit together without breaking each other. When they had finished, Steve apologized for the awkwardness. Kittie said, "Steve, we haven't done this for several years; we need more practice—and possibly some instruction manuals on how to use some of this stuff." She smiled. "And right now, we have time. Let's sit in the Jacuzzi and relax. I will see if I can get you back in the mood; I'm pretty good at that if you remember." The two ghosts sat in the Jacuzzi, and Kittie sat between their legs and leaned back.