by Tobias Roote
and was instantly rewarded with music from speakers around the room.
Alice sat up and thumped me surprised, but very playfully.
“How do you DO that?” she demanded laughing, as Mercury, also surprised at the noise, endeavoured to raise his head, flopped it back down again returning instantly to dreamland.
“I guess there aren't many visitors..” I surmised circumspectly. I knew this to be the case seeing as how I was the owner! The farmer up the road had sold me the cottage a long time ago and only took care of it for me when I was absent for long periods, which was most of the time.
I had a private arrangement with him that if I didn't return by the time he died of old age, he was to tear up the sale papers and pass it onto his daughter, the young lady who had delivered our supplies. It was for both of us a perfect arrangement. He had used some of the money to purchase the other side of the hill from his neighbour for me and this gave me added privacy. I was nothing if not efficient with my private and personal affairs.
Gazing at the blonde-streaked brown haired beauty straddled across me, I became more thoughtful, the music lulling me while Alice, enjoying the effects of the Jamesons, dozed comfortably in my arms.
Eventually, we moved to the bedroom. It was one of two modest rooms that shared a bathroom. This one overlooked the back of the house so that when the night creatures came close to the back wall you could hear them moving about. They had distinctive sounds. Foxes, badgers even rats on the prowl.
Occasionally the quiet was broken by the loud screech of an owl swooping in on a meal. At others the baby-like cry of a fox would wail through the nearby woods. I would feel Alice jump in her sleep at those noises, although she didn't wake. I lay relaxed in a semi-sleep that rested me while allowing my thoughts to continue working through the many issues and the implications of our situation.
So far we had only had contact with Dubianko and the Russians. I wondered when we would hear from my own side. That they had to be involved in this up to their necks, there was no question. That they expected my history and patriotism to lead me back to them with the goods, they were supremely confident.
My problem was, that I trusted them least in situations of national and self interest. I was not active and therefore not subject to the usual protocols. They could ' lose' me without any paperwork being generated and no questions asked in Whitehall. To them I was expendable except I now had something they wanted.
I still had to put the pieces together. The information on the memory stick, I still hadn't looked at, nor would I yet, as it then exposed me to becoming part of a problem that would ultimately require terminal action. We weren't there yet although it still remained an option.
My mind kept wrangling over the separate messages from Abbey and John that seemingly resulted in the same object, the memory stick in the safe. However, I couldn't understand why they both felt impelled to speak to me independently.
I was definitely missing something, a part of the puzzle and I instinctively knew it was something very important. I tried to recall the conversations word for word, but couldn't get to the memories. I decided I needed to sleep so put it all into boxes in my head and promptly slept until morning.
Alice woke up before me. Tweaking me got my attention and I got my own back by playing sensually with her body while she tried to talk about what to do today. I thought I had her sufficiently distracted when she began to wriggle beneath me to get out from under, heading off to the bathroom.
I fell into a lazy doze listening to her go about her morning wash. It all went quiet and then she suddenly came from out of the shower, still steaming wet, and threw herself onto me bringing me fully awake.
With her cold wet hair sliding along my chest she kissed me playfully as she aroused me from my doze.
“Oh God! the boat’s sinking!” I laughed referring to the amount of water she had bought with her. I just lay there as it dribbled over me.
I closed my eyes as she held her hands to my chest and twisted my nipples harshly “Oh!” She was in that kind of mood this morning eh? I sighed, she took this as a sign of submission and immediately nipped the flesh around my waist with her teeth. Damn! they were sharp, I thought.
Moving southwards her lips and teeth searched for more tender game and finally as they found me rising to meet her lips, she took advantage and immediately drew me in.
The heat of her mouth enveloping me, waking me up. Her playful tongue causing me to become aroused.
I clenched as she bit me which gave her opportunity to grab my cheeks with her hands, and squeeze them hard driving her fingers deep into the muscle forcing me upwards and deeper into her throat.
She began to hum, the vibration in her throat catching the sensitive nerves just under the top of my shaft causing me to shudder involuntarily as the feeling intensified.
Suddenly, she released me and as I lay there, her eyes glowing at me fired with intense passion, she relished in the fact that she was in total control.
“Yes?” She asked me mischievously, a little spittle falling from her bottom lip, her hair now already half dry from our mutual heat, was now partly static and wild around her head giving it the distinct look of a lions mane.
Not getting an answer from me she moved to phase two and put her head down and licked my shaft like an ice cream all the way to the top.
“Yes?” She asked again, but not getting the response she wanted, her look became almost malevolent and she moved and placed her hips down on top of my shaft, not entering her, but pressing the throbbing member between us so that I could feel the furnace heat wetness of her as she came into contact with me. The hot pressure enfolding my shaft down near its base almost caused me to lose all control.
“Yes?” She asked for the last time, and paused for just a few seconds, but realising I was going to lose this battle, I nodded at her in submission.
Lifting herself off me just enough, she poised to make sure she had judged it exactly right and then sat down hard on my shaft enclosing it, pulling in her stomach to quickly tension her inner thigh muscles.
Riding me hard feeling me ejaculate deeply inside her, she gave into her own ecstasy rocking herself to her own inner tempo. Then, slowing almost to a standstill as the feelings flooded through her, she erupted once more and in a frenzy of activity orgasmed again, moaning all the while, the depth of her rising ecstasy causing her to become totally lost in herself.
I felt the muscles in her abdomen slowly relax, as exhausted and with me still inside her, she fell slowly forward and molded herself across my chest. The perspiration of our two bodies merging and the mutual heat bonding us together, I wrapped her lovingly in my arms as if to somehow preserve our perfect union, to hold onto the moment.
It was some hours later when we both reluctantly gave into the demands of nature and hunger for something out of a frying pan.
As I scrambled around the room trying to find our clothes from the previous evening, I picked up and tossed Alice's shorts at her as she stood up from looking for them. T shirt in hand she tried to catch them as they flew past her head and landed on the bed.
I saw something slide out of the little pouches she called pockets in those tiny shorts and as she turned to walk out to the bathroom, I picked it up to hand it to her on my way to the kitchen. It was my turn to cook.
It was a keyring with a single key. The give-away type that has a plastic fob with a picture in it. I looked at the picture and was instantly taken back to a brief moment in time some weeks ago, Abbey had a new camera, she used to be a pretty good photographer and had treated herself to one.
I was admiring it when I looked up and caught them both in a pose that I felt was worthy of a picture and snapped them while they were standing together. It was one of those happy moments that you can be really lucky and catch just right, a lovely shot.
The image had found its way, housed in a silver frame, onto their mantle-piece above the open fire in their lounge within days. I was quite chuffed at that.
/>
Abbey had obviously had this keyring made up from those pop-it kits you can buy. You pop out the inside casing, put the photo suitably cropped inside and replace the casing, snapping it together with finger pressure 'et voilà' you have an instant memento.
There was something wrong with this one, though. The plastic insert was proud of the casing, it wasn't quite down and I pressed it expecting to hear the click as it pushed home. It didn't, so I looked a little closer. I turned it over. It had a different colour on the back, a dark blue. Odd!
I put it into my pocket for the moment, suddenly remembering that I was supposedly doing breakfast and prompted by a patient scratching noise. That was Mercury telling me he wanted out of the cottage to exercise his natural needs.
I raced down the stairs and let him out, looking down and seeing that in the doorway was a fresh basket of farm produce. I smiled, remembering where I was and the generosity of this local family that had taken me in and protected me at a very vulnerable period of my life. Who still made sure I had no reason to starve while allowing me my privacy and asking nothing, nor accepting, anything in return.
I put the basket on the side and pulled out the bacon, and got it quickly sizzling in the pan. Taking eggs, some soft French cheese which was not too aromatic but deeply flavoured, I whipped up the makings of a large omelette that would feed two hungry people.
The basket contained a fresh crusty loaf. I decided that we were very hungry and sliced a couple of still warm chunky pieces and put them under the grill to toast. Fresh bread was always a winner with me, the French made bread that was so good all you needed to go with it was a chunk of hard cheese and you had a meal for kings. Today it would be toast.
Just as I finished and began dishing up onto two plates Alice breezed in, fresh and sparkling, grabbed a buttered chunk of toast and hungrily began devouring it. I laughed as the hot butter drizzled down her chin as she tried to catch it. Throwing her a paper napkin I carried the now full plates to the table as she grabbed the coffee.
For the next few minutes, the only sounds were the chink of cutlery on plates as we silently and aggressively demolished our meal. Watching Alice as I sipped my coffee having finished first, I took in her radiant look, and wondered at the whirlwind of our relationship which might not have come about at all if it hadn't been for the predicament that we now found ourselves in.
I was about to ask her what she would like to do today, as it was probably the last day of freedom and I had a feeling that things were about to change, when I was stopped by a chirruping phone in the lounge.
Puzzled, I immediately went to track it down and as I reached the sofa I saw it was my GREY, the phone that Brett had modified remotely for me.
CHAPTER 23
I pressed the button and put it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Charlie, for God's sake are you all right? I missed your callback this morning and had to break into my own software to retrieve the number it gave you.” It was Brett.
“Damn! I'm sorry Brett, I was involved in something.” I apologised guiltily not wanting to tell him what involved meant.
“Okay, I hope she's worth it chum, ‘cos you have a shed load of problems. Can you talk?”
“Yes, no problem for me, what have you got?” I asked, a little perturbed by his comment.
“Okay, sit down cos I have a lot to tell you.”
I took a chair by the back patio and opened the door to put some air in my lungs as I prepared myself for his information download. When Brett got going he wouldn't stop until the end of his report and usually that involved a lot of information compressed into a speedily delivered monologue. He hated repeating himself so I put myself into receptive mode.
“Fire away, Brett!”
He cleared his throat.
“Okay, the first thing is you're right about the participants, except there is another player in this as well, one that is running interference for you, but being hampered by having to constantly relocate. I'm guessing that's the two retired Agents that got you into this in the first place.
I'm confused about the rest. The Russians seemingly want to get information of the West's past operations and are looking for leaks in their system from way back. This Dubianko person wants some other block of information of operations by the old guard in the West because he wants to restore them back into power and he believes the information will apparently do that. The teams you have met are his. The Russians have not so far put up a terminate option on you. Expect that to change quickly if they believe the information will fall to the other side.
Now, we get to the UK element in this, and here's a thing. Both MI5 and MI6 are running separate clandestine operations, but for different reasons and I will come to that in a minute. Your old boss is watching things closely and I suspect its because he might get an order for closure from Whitehall any moment and needs to have all his ducks in a row. I have a message from him which reads “Hope you're not rusty old fruit, retired always means retired!” He doesn't actually know we are in touch, but is covering the bases through his operations network. Its the only warning you're going to get that he might be coming for you. So, the message here is - steer clear of old friends.”
He paused to draw breath and to let me know new stuff was coming.
“Okay! as to this 'information'. I don't know the details of any of this. You need to somehow talk to the sources to find out what it is specifically. Whatever it is, the Russians believe it consists of information of use and of risk to them, so want it. The UK, seeing as both M's are involved, implies the same goes for the UK, i.e. both risk and advantage.
I have one question. How much information do you have? Don't answer that, its not for me to know, only for you to consider. If you are aware of it, then I hope you have worked out a survival plan because all I can see is a big wide net drawing in on you and everyone wants a piece of you and not just a taster.
Lastly, some background for you on your girlfriends parents who are, in point of fact, the source of all your troubles.
Abbey, or Irvana Bejenski was the lead Spy Master in the old KGB/GRU there was nothing she didn't know. Her star was at its zenith and everyone conferred with her on just about every single operation that was running. As a result, what is in her head today could still damage Russia and its allies badly and set back their intelligence operations decades. Dubianko seemingly wants her, or the information she holds. They lost track of her, until the daughter was uncovered out in Africa. It appears her DNA was matched to Irvana. There's a story right there I'm sure.
David Chapman, who you know as John Crouch was her mirror in the west. It seems that both the UK and the Russians thought the other Agent was turned by theirs when in fact both were keeping their superiors sweet while apparently making babies.
Chapman was not only dealing with the GCHQ's secrets and operations, but also a lot of the stuff going through the Americans. If they get wind of this operation expect an immediate invasion of black suits with an STK marker on both them and you two.
There's a few little anomalies I'm running down where Dubianko is concerned. He has an operation running named 'Карамбола ' or 'Karambola', which translates to 'Star fruit'. It looks like it's currently active and has something to do with all of this. When I get a handle on it I will text to you if it's at all relevant.”
Brett paused again, I heard him breathing, his large frame had small lungs and long conversations could wear him out quickly. Finally he gave his synopsis.
“Dan, my friend, you are in the shite. Be very careful now. Just be aware that nobody in this is on your side. The best you can do is set them on each other and stand back to see what you're left with. I will try and help run interference, but that might expose me on all fronts, so do your best to resolve it all quickly, okay?”
I had already decided this was the only action plan we could use to gain an advantage, that plus bartering the information for our lives.
I was grateful and
whilst I had questions, I couldn't ask them because they would put him in serious danger looking for the answers. So far he was just an information collection point. My questions would put him into a totally different and active role as he would literally have to hack into systems to get the answers and I couldn't watch his back like in the old days.
“Thanks Brett, you have surpassed yourself, it is precisely my intention to do just that. I will get back to you with details when I'm ready. I have no idea what this Karambola angle could be, but press on with it. The last thing I need right now are any nasty little surprises.” I killed the call as Brett was not one for chit chat and I needed to sit and absorb everything he had told me.
I sat pensively while I tried to put my finger on something he had said that disturbed me and caught a movement out the corner of my eye and looked up to see Alice in the doorway. She looked pale and I thought she probably hadn't appreciated the outside reminder of our predicament.
“Its okay, it was only Brett telling me what he had found out. Its not much different to what I already guessed with a few added twists.”
She smiled wanly at me, and looking a bit downcast, turned back to the kitchen where I soon heard the washing up clacking in the sink. Mercury slunk in from the kitchen to sit at my feet obviously catching the downbeat mood of the moment.
I grabbed hold of him to give him a bit of affection and as he rolled over to present his tummy for a scratch, I caught sight of the silver bone-shaped tag with his name engraved in capital letters. I had seen the tag in a jewellers in Italy while we were shopping and while Alice had been drooling over clothes in the boutique, I had whipped into the jeweller and bought it.
It was a waterproof microSD Card holder on a key chain which I exchanged for a tag and paid twenty Euros to have it roughly engraved so that the Y of Mercury straddled the join. You could hardly see it and it looked just like a little silver charm from a bracelet. As a name-tag for a dog it was perfect.
The information from the memory stick was on it and was safer there than on either of our persons, or in our possessions. As Marseilles being a case in point I thought I had made a very timely switch. The original had been mailed to Brett's PO box which, as far as I knew, he and I were the only people who knew of its existence.
