IT WAS PERSONAL NOW. For the first time, someone had scared Coco Nimburu. The danger excited her. She had just had an encounter with an agent who had chased and almost killed her. She could tell from the look in her eyes that Phoenix Perry was determined to catch her. If necessary, she would scour the entire station, looking for the smallest clue to her whereabouts.
The other agent seemed to be equally determined, driving at speeds exceeding 100 mph with little regard for civilians. These two were good and relentless. Were it not for her own great athletic ability and martial arts skills, Coco would surely be dead or in chains.
She casually walked up the stairs to the street and flagged a cab. On the way back to the Capitol Hill Hyatt Regency, she began to plot the demise of her new archenemy. First, she was going to find out absolutely everything there was to know about Phoenix Perry. The cab stopped in front of the hotel, which was inundated with cops. But they had no idea what Coco really looked like. So they checked her ID, which was flawless, and then made sure she was a registered guest and let her by.
Coco returned to her twentieth-floor room and disrobed, leaving each garment on the floor where it dropped. Still hyped from the chase, she needed a hot bath and sex, both of which would be taken care of in the bathtub. Climbing into the tub, she positioned herself under the faucet so that she could feel the nonstop splash of warm water on her sensitive clitoris. She laid back and let the water run for about an hour, then bathed.