Esteban Mendoza, the infamous drug lord, was on the run, and the only person who could bring him to justice was one Agent Locke. Intelligence received by the agency placed Mendoza in Dubai, where he had some local friends protecting him; it was a tricky situation that was going to require some careful maneuvering, but it was all in a day's work for them. However, unbeknownst to him, it was soon made known that his weakness for women, thus Locke, was the agency's best undercover agent, was called in. So, that's how "Tamara", a high-priced escort, found herself in the man's luxurious penthouse. All it took was the tech boys making a page for "her" services with fake complimentary reviews, and their target took the bait, hook, line, and sinker.
Taking in the massive room around him, Locke concentrated on what he could do. He was glad that nobody stopped him on his way up, but for better or worse, escorts were becoming more frequent in this city of opulence, so there was minimal attention paid to him. Still, the disguise he wore was meant to stand out, as the secret dossier on Mendoza made it abundantly clear what his...attractions were. Not only was Locke looking forward to locking up this bastard for being a narcissistic piece of shit drug lord, but god almighty those fetishes would be grounds for life in jail by themself. Thankfully, earlier today he'd been given a card to the room by a fellow undercover agent, and it meant that whatever was going to happen, it was in hands now.
Sitting alluringly on one of the drug lord's couches, Locke got ready for the first of many memorable moments the night would bring. It wasn't his first rodeo being undercover as a very attractive woman, much less a woman of the night (which was something he got some ribbing for at HQ), so it was merely a matter of playing on the Colombian's ego. Moments later, he heard the door to the room open-it was obvious, given how loud the man was. But before he could say anything, it was time to take over and be assertive.
"Oh baby, you look like you need to relax," purred "Tamara". "Why don't I take your mind off of things?"
"Ever been fucked by the God of Sex on a mountain of cash, baby? Come here and find out!"
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As Mendoza was lying on the floor, knocked out for the time being, Locke strolled over to his guise's purse and pulled out a phone.
"Yeah, it worked like a charm-he's out. Didn't suspect that I'd drugged his entire supply of alcohol nor that I'd made sure his security wasn't going to be an issue. Send in the extract team, because it's time that this menace gets to experience some good old fashioned justice."
He heard the voice on the other end of the line confirm it.
"Roger that. Right now, I'm making my way out. I'll be there in ten. Don't worry, I'll return the suit in pristine condition; I'm a professional, after all."
And with that, "Tamara" was peeled off and folded neatly into the briefcase Locke had "borrowed" from the soon-to-be incarcerated criminal. Mission completed, and this was definitely a doozy.
