Weecho: First Shots

Chapter 15 - Elegant Evening, Nasty Surprise

It wasn’t long after the Aramis incident that Alexey put Weecho on a photo shoot. A fancy shoot, black tie, part of a big social event – an event where Weecho would be working undercover with Dara. 

The evening started early at Cover’s studios. Weecho set up a bank of remote strobes and angled them to get a stylized, early-Hollywood effect (“sculpting with light” he called it). His first official Cover model was wearing a slinky silver gown, was made up to look like a 1930’s film star. Sultry. Smoky. Waiting for Weecho against a curved white backdrop. He raised the camera and the model gave him a series of classic Hollywood glamour poses, flinging her long blond hair. Flash! Flash! 

Weecho looked over to the shoot director, a neon-haired woman in a gothic gown standing with tuxedoed Alexey, both of them checking the monitor linked to Weecho’s camera. Alexey nodded and the woman gave Weecho a thumbs-up. 

Next was a model in a white blouse unbuttoned down to her red leather belt, the hem of her black skirt brushing her toes. She moved so the blouse opened wider and Weecho moved in for the shot. Flash! Another check with the director, another thumbs-up. 

Last was a tall, dark-haired young woman gliding across the backdrop in a long emerald dress, turning like a dancer and swirling the dress, pointing a perfect leg through the slit up one side. Weecho shot from a series of angles, checked the images on the camera’s screen, nodded his thanks to the model.  

Dara. 

She smiled and came over, checking out Weecho’s tux. 

“You look very nice,” she said. 

“Compliments your uncle.” The tux a gift from Alexey. “You’re the one looks terrific.” 

“It’s the dress.” 

“You’d make a chicken suit look good.” 

Dara curtsied graciously, showing more leg, and walked with Weecho over to the monitor where her uncle and the director lady were checking the last of the images. 

“Good,” Alexey said. 

Looking every bit the fashion icon in his perfectly fitted tux, he stepped over to the models’ dressing area where a dozen beautiful women were being zipped into outfits fresh from fashion’s marquee names.  

“Okay, listen up,” Alexey said. “The cars are waiting, so soon as you’re ready, go downstairs. You all look terrific and I know you’ll be great.” 

He blew them a kiss, nodded for Dara and Weecho to join him, and headed for the door.   

                                                #          #          # 

They rode down the West Side Highway in the back of Alexey’s Bentley, heading with the nighttime flow of lights toward lower Manhattan. Weecho sat in the seat that faced rear, Dara next to him in her emerald dress. Alexey was in the back seat facing front, talking on his cell:  

“I’m on the way to an event I’d like you to save some Style Section space for.” He glanced at the camera in Weecho’s lap. “We’ll be sending you pictures as they’re happening.” Listened, nodded. “You’re great. Thank you.” 

He snapped off the connection, tossed the phone onto the console, fixed a serious look on Weecho.     

So did the man at Alexey’s side, Commissioner Burke. “So tell us what Juna picked up about Nina Galleon,” Burke said. 

It was only a few hours before that Weecho had found out himself, hadn’t had a chance to fill anyone in, everyone involved with last-minute details organizing the event.