by Wolf Wootan
“… have sex?” she finished for him. “Of course I did, Hatch. I said I was an old maid, not a strait-laced virgin locked in a chastity belt! It was just that this guy—an English professor—was so reserved, even prudish. His family came from old money. I think he expected that we would drift into a comfortable, reserved marriage someday, though he never asked me to marry him. We did the expected thing, like go to seminars, the opera, high teas. I wanted more: something more exciting. That’s the main reason I took the TAU opportunity, to get away from him, before I became just like him. He was upset, said he wouldn’t wait for me. I liked that, it made for a clean break. How about you? Ever been married?”
She knew the answer to that question, but did not want to reveal that Sara and Mrs. Chamberlain had discussed his personal life with her. She wanted to hear about Kat, and any other relationships he might have had, from his own lips.
“No. Close, but no cigar. That was a long time ago,” he replied without elaboration.
“I thought we were getting personal here, sharing things. ‘You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine,’ so to speak. You let me dump all of my guilt and pain on you, and you absorbed it like a sponge. Now, let me be the sponge. Tell me why you didn’t get married. I told you how I dumped Professor ‘Missionary Position.’ I sense you are still hurting. Come on, tell Dr. Z. all about it.”
She took his hand in both of hers and smiled that smile. He melted, and felt very connected to her.
Maybe telling her about Kat, and my hang-ups, will help me get rid of the lingering doubts I have about relationships. After all, that is all the shrinks do: Make you talk about things.
“Are you a shrink, too, Doctor?”
“No, but I’m a good listener, just like you.”
“You know, this is very personal, but somehow I feel it’s time to talk about it. But only to you. This has to be doctor/patient confidentiality, all right?”
“My lips are sealed,” she smiled.
“And beautiful lips they are. When I was in the CIA, I had a job similar to the one you had in the MOSSAD. I was an assassin with No Official Cover.”
“A NOC? I assumed you were an analyst,” she lied.
“Just for a while. Anyway, I was in West Berlin in 1984 doing an R & R stint, when I met this Stasi agent, Katerina Klaus. Klaus Haus is named in her honor. She was a petite, blonde sweetheart, and very beautiful, of course. She taught me a lot about what was wrong with my life back then. Within two weeks, I was madly in love with her, enemy agent and all. Is that possible, Syd? Lose your soul and heart in two weeks?”
“I don’t know, Hatch. I’ve heard about it, but never experienced it. Not yet,” she answered, caressing his hand.
“To make a long story short, months later we discovered that she was pregnant with my child, so I was going to take her out of Germany, marry her, and live happily ever after—like a fairy tale. It was all arranged with my bosses in the CIA. But they betrayed us. They didn’t want me to quit, so they told the Stasi about the defection. A Stasi assassin was there and he killed her. I killed a whole bunch of people over that, just as you did avenging your parents’ deaths.”
He paused and sipped his coffee, using the hand she was not holding. He did not want to let go of her.
“It sounds like you’re still feeling pain, and probably some guilt. So am I. Talking about it helped me, maybe it will help you,” she said, stroking his hand between both of hers.
“I don’t know. What I do know is that I’ve been afraid to get close to a woman—you know, a real relationship—ever since. My life has been a string of one-night-stands. As soon as I start caring too much, I have to stop the relationship. I’m really screwed up, Syd,” he said quietly.
“I think you’re blaming yourself for Katerina’s death. You’re afraid that if you let yourself love a woman, she will die. That’s nonsense and you know it. Katerina didn’t die because you loved her. Let it go, Hatch! Give yourself permission to love again. That’s what Katerina would want you to do,” responded Syd in a whisper.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
“Tell me about her, Hatch. Tell me about your passion, and your grief,” she finally whispered.
Hatch did. He told her the entire story of those glorious months before the tragedy: the singing, trying to seduce her shamelessly, the ice skating, the dressing down she gave him, the petting, the fabulous love making later. How she changed him from a cold assassin to a caring human being again. His eyes were moist when he finished.
“That is a beautiful love story, Hatch. I’m so sorry about Kat and your child. I wish I could have met her. She sounds very special. Do you ever see her mother and sister? It was very compassionate of you to make sure they were rescued,” asked Syd.
“No. Bob Hatcher died with Kat. It must stay that way. I do make sure they are well-taken care of.”
Hatch paid the bill and they walked hand-in-hand to the Cadillac. When they reached it, he opened the passenger door for her. She turned toward him before entering the car.
“I feel better, how about you?” she asked.
“Much better, Doc. Come here, I need a hug,” he answered, taking her into his arms. She did not resist, but hugged him back. He had not felt this good in years: it was as if a weight had been removed from his shoulders. He felt her body hard against the entire length of his and did not want to let her go. She pushed her body hard against him, an involuntary action, as if her body was taking charge of events. She loved the feel of her breasts against his chest, their thighs pressed together. She wondered what he was feeling. She knew that if she did not break this embrace, she would drag him into the back seat of the car and rip her clothes off. She could not let that happen, not now. She had to control her horny hormones! She wanted to explore the possibilities of a relationship with this man first, not settle for a quickie—as tempting as it was.
She broke the embrace, and kissed him on the cheek.
“I think we have a plane to catch, big guy.”
“Yes, we do, Dr. Z.”
• • •
Triple Eye had several corporate jets, and the best of the fleet—Hatch’s personal aircraft—was a Gulf Stream V. It was one of the world’s best ultra long-range business jets with a range of 6,500 nautical miles at a speed of .8 Mach, close to the speed of sound. It could take off in less than 6000 feet, and land in 3,170 feet. Its maximum cruising altitude was 51,000 feet, nearly ten miles high. This particular aircraft, like all of Triple Eye’s aircraft, had been heavily modified to suit Hatch’s requirements. These modifications included two large restrooms, the Toy Master’s latest Global Positioning System (GPS), his latest satellite communications system, and an advanced Navigation/Communication center in the main cabin. The NAV/COMM Center had the capability of being linked to the systems of any other aircraft, including the Shadow choppers, so any actions going on in the world could be monitored.
The main cabin had been reconfigured—in addition to adding the NAV/COMM Center—with ten large, reclining sleeper seats instead of the normal 13 to 19 seats in standard configurations. This left room for a small galley and lounge area for people to sit and eat, drink, and make merry if they were so inclined. Hatch insisted on a crew of four on long flights: three pilots and a flight attendant. Hatch was also qualified to fly the aircraft, if necessary, and did so often to keep his skills current.
At 5:30 P.M., when the aircraft leveled off at its cruising altitude of 45,000 feet, Hatch undid his safety belt and walked to the lounge area, motioning for Sara and Syd to join him. The three of them had packed travel bags when Syd and Hatch had returned from lunch, and then had been flown to Miami Airport in the Bell 430. Syd had thought that the chopper had been plush until she saw the interior of the GS-V. It was unlike any airliner she had ever flown in.
When they settled into the chairs in the lounge, the flight attendant took their drink orders and went to the wet bar in the galley to prepare them. She was Janet Corbin, a 35-year-ol
d ex-airline stewardess; she was a pleasant-looking blonde, 5' 6" tall, with a thin body.
“This plane is awesome, Hatch! I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” observed Syd.
“I travel a lot, and I might as well be comfortable while doing it. I spend a lot of time in this beast,” he responded.
Syd looked toward the rear of the cabin where the two terrorists were each handcuffed to their seats, one on each side of the aircraft.
“I haven’t heard a peep out of those bozos so far,” she said.
“We gave them something to relax them,” laughed Sara.
“No bodyguard for them?” queried Syd.
“With Sara and Dr. Z. on board, who needs a bodyguard? That would be overkill,” laughed Hatch. “They’re still afraid you are going to slice and dice them, Syd.”
“I’d like to. Any way of dumping body parts out of this plane?” she chortled.
“That’s a mod I didn’t think of,” he smiled.
“Maybe I can just castrate them,” added Syd.
Janet brought their drinks and placed them on small paper coasters which were imprinted with the Triple Eye logo, along with a large bowl of Macadamia nuts.
“Thanks, Janet. I didn’t get a chance to introduce Syd to you before takeoff. Syd Steppe, Janet Corbin,” said Hatch.
“Hi, Janet. This must be easier work than a jumbo jet loaded to capacity,” laughed Syd, extending her hand to Janet.
“Nothing beats this job, Syd. You guys let me know if I can do anything for you. I’m going to take some coffee to the cockpit, but I’ll be right back,” she replied with enthusiasm. She returned to her small galley and began preparing a tray for the pilots.
“Well, ladies, here’s to a successful mission,” Hatch said, raising his glass. The three clinked glasses.
Sara took a handful of Macadamia nuts and remarked, “It wouldn’t be a flight without nuts.”
“At least they’re expensive ones,” countered Hatch.
“How long is this trip?” asked Syd.
“A little over eleven hours. We’ll get there about noon, Israeli time. After cocktail hour, we’ll get some dinner and then we should get some sack time. I don’t know about you, Sara, but I’m bushed. Neither of us got much sleep last night,” he answered.
“God! Was that only last night? This has been a long day!” exclaimed Sara. “You told me how it went with the cops on the chopper ride, which is great, but how was your lunch, Syd?”
Syd would have kicked her if she could have done it without Hatch seeing her do it. Sara had winked at her, and had a silly grin on her face.
Who do you think you are, Sara? Miss Matchmaker 2001? It went better than I could have hoped! Stop trying to embarrass me!
“We had a lovely lunch, thank you,” Syd responded, hoping Sara would drop the subject.
“Yes, we did. We had a splendid lunch!” said Hatch. “Syd is a great conversationalist. Which reminds me, Syd. When Janet feeds our guests, I would appreciate it if you’d go and tell them their choices for dinner. And remind them to behave! Their English is terrible, unless they’re faking it. But you have a way with them; they really fear you.”
Thank you, Hatch! Just cool it, Sara! I’ll tell you what I can later, when we’re alone. I can’t tell you the best part, because I’m sworn to secrecy!
“Yes, I’ll take care of them. Are we going to have trouble with Israeli Customs?” asked Syd, redirecting the subject once again.
“No problem. Uri has it handled. We’ll taxi to a hangar he has readied for us. Then he’ll take charge of our prisoners. After that, Custom Officials will appear and stamp our travel documents. As soon as the plane is refueled, we’ll head for Istanbul—Ataturk International—and to our estate where Shadow-3 is housed,” he answered.
Sara chimed in, “Do we know where in Iran the Wrath headquarters site is yet?”
“No, but Uri does. He will give us a folder with all the info he has when we land. Then we will use our satellite system to build a 3-D model of the area, and Syd can guide us through the best way to attack the target.”
“Me?” asked Syd.
“Yes. You might even know the area once we find out exactly where it is. And you know their habits. I want to hit them when the most number of them are present,” explained Hatch. “I especially want the queen bee, Hamad.”
“I hope Uri has some pictures for us. How good a look can we get from Shadow-3 when we’re over the target?” asked Syd.
“We can count their pimples,” laughed Sara.
“Good! Maybe we can determine when Hamad is there,” mused Syd. “We have to get him, or he will just keep putting hits out on me.”
“I don’t want to be in Iranian airspace for very long, so we’ll use our satellites to get a handle on things before we go in. The satellite optics are good to an inch or two,” he said. “That should be more than enough resolution, right?”
They all laughed at that, sipped on their drinks, and chomped on expensive nuts.
• • •
After Janet had cleared away their dinner dishes, Hatch went over to the handcuffed Iranians and checked them over. Earlier, he had escorted them one at a time to the toilet, then they had been fed. They were now asleep, thanks to the knockout drops he had Janet put in their food.
“They should sleep the rest of the way,” he said as he came back to the women in the lounge. “I don’t know about you, sweet things, but I’m ready to get some sleep before I drop. At least a little bit. I’ll take the seat in front of the guy on the starboard side.”
“I’ll take the one across the aisle from you, so we’ll be near if they wake up and try anything,” said Sara, moving toward her sleeper chair. She reached into an overhead compartment and retrieved a pillow and blanket. Syd went to her duffel bag and retrieved her gray sweats, her travel case, and a paperback book.
“I’m going to change into something more comfortable and read for a while. I got more sleep than you two did last night. I’ll keep an eye on the prisoners,” said Syd. “Goodnight, you two. I’ll use this chair up front so my reading light won’t disturb you.”
She made her way to one of the restrooms and entered it. There was more room than in an airliner toilet. She took off her shoes, socks, jeans, and tee shirt. She pulled on her sweat pants, then rubbed her breasts, which were aching.
You girls have been harnessed long enough today. I’m going to set you free! And I need to switch brands on my bras. This one is a bitch! I should have brought the ones Mrs. C. bought me and tried them out.
She took off her bra and hung it under the tee shirt on the hook with her jeans. She massaged her breasts for a moment, then pulled on her sweat shirt. She opened her travel case, took out her toothpaste and toothbrush, then brushed her teeth. She brushed her hair for fifty strokes, then pulled it into a pony tail, which she secured with a rubber band. After washing the makeup off her face, she rubbed in a moisturizer. She looked at herself in the small mirror.
Well, Syd, the man hugged you today. What will he say when he sees you looking like this? Hopefully, he’ll be asleep and I can get up before him and get some makeup on in the morning.
She made her way back to her sleeper seat, tilted it back to a 45-degree angle, and got down two pillows and a blanket. She turned on her reading light and settled in with her book. She had never been so comfortable on an airplane before.
Janet approached her and whispered, “Can I get you anything, Syd? There’s a drink holder in each arm. Coffee, tea, booze, hot chocolate, anything?”
“It is early for me. I know the time change tomorrow will play havoc with my system, but maybe I’ll get to sleep faster with a nightcap. I hate to be a pain, but do you have anything like a hot buttered rum?” she whispered back.
“Sure thing, Syd. No problem. Coming right up,” replied Janet.
A few minutes later, Janet returned with a steaming drink in a tall, clear glass mug with a wooden handle.
“There you go, Sy
d. I’ll be in the back getting some rest. Just come shake me if you need anything else.”
“Thanks, Janet. I won’t bother you any more tonight. Go get some rest.”
“Thanks, Syd. Goodnight.”
Janet settled into a seat in front of Sara, and Syd sipped her warm drink and opened her book once more, hoping she could focus on what she was reading so that her mind would not wander back to reality. She had to shut down her racing brain or she would never get to sleep, and tomorrow would be another day played on Fast Forward.
After a few chapters, Syd looked at her watch. It was only 8:30 P.M., leaving more than eight hours of flight time to Ben-Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv. She had finished her drink. She got up and used the restroom, then checked on the others. They were all asleep, even Janet. One of the prisoners was snoring slightly. She went back to her seat up front by the lounge. She still was not sleepy, and wished she had another drink, thinking it might make her drowsy.
All of a sudden, she sensed something out of the corner of her eye and looked up, startled. Hatch was standing next to her seat, looming over her. He knelt down on one knee next to her.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he whispered. “When you checked the prisoners, I woke up. Are you all right?”
“Yes, I was just reading,” she whispered back. “I’m sorry I woke you. And you’re not supposed to see me like this—I’m a fright!”
“What are you talking about? You look like a gorgeous teenager! I like your hair like that. I’m a light sleeper, and actually get by with very little sleep—as long as I get a few hours here and there.”
“Here I was thinking I was too young for you, and now I look like a teenager? I guess you’ll have to be a dirty old man,” she giggled.
She scooted over toward the wall of the aircraft and patted the part of the seat she had just vacated. The seats were quite wide.
“Sit here. You look uncomfortable down there,” she said, still keeping her voice low so as to not wake the others. He sat next to her, facing her, their thighs touching. The warmth of his thigh flowed into hers and through her body. She felt her unharnessed nipples harden.
