A House Divided - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Sex, Lies and Spies

Tentative breezes pushed warm summer air across the moonlight filled room, rustling the mosquito curtains that surrounded the bed.  Within the protective canopy, Claire Baxter, COIL agent, slept comfortably, her denuded exposed body gratefully accepting the movement of air around it.  Her chest, rising and falling slowly, almost mimicked the rhythm of the air currents as she shifted slightly, bending one leg up slowly at the knee.

This created a natural tunnel for him.  His tongue darted and flicked here and there, smelling and sensing, probing the heavily scented air and the heat she generated as he continued his journey up her body, leaving behind parts of himself as he went.  They glided freely on her smooth hot skin, so sweet to the touch.  Up her chest he went, winding from side to side, stopping briefly to use his tongue, ever so carefully, as he didn’t want to wake her, not yet anyway, as it would spoil the surprise.  He explored around one of her breasts, encircling it totally before coming around and proceeding through the natural valley the two formed.  The crevice was narrow and deep; not much room, but he managed it neatly.  Once through he rose up above her and swayed back and forth waiting, for her to wake.  He pulled himself up a little bit; brushing against her mound in a delightfully enticing tease that slowly aroused, then awakened her to his gaze.

Her eyes flickered a few times in the dull light as they tried to focus, until finally they cleared and she saw clearly who her bed companion was and what he was up to.  The King Cobra swayed and waited for its partner to move in the slightest so it could thrust downward and inject its venomous kiss.  Claire, her senses finally aware, felt the reptile all over her exposed body.  It had looped itself several times around her raised calf and thigh, then slid up in between her legs, sidewinded her chest, encircled one of her breasts and positioned itself above her for the killing strike.  Passively she turned her wrist inward and cautiously raised her arm slightly off the bed, all the while holding the stare of the ophidian until she was positioned to strike.  Her hand pounced around the fanned neck of the snake and closed it in her grasp.  The alarmed creature hissed and lunged thrashing its body violently about the bed as Claire slipped from the sheets holding her prize at arm’s length.

“I prefer to be the one giving the poisonous kisses,” she said.

Fortunately in India you’re never far from a basket with a locking top, in Claire’s case the laundry hamper as she wrapped a towel around its head and deposited it making a mental note to tell the hotel staff about it in the morning.

“They know you’re here, Claire,” she said to herself as she went back to bed.

The day promised to be hot even before the sun had made its way high enough in the morning sky to chase the shadows from their hiding places amongst the buildings as Claire finished dressing.  To combat the day she’d chosen a light white cotton skirt cut above the knee that amply displayed her attractive and if necessary lethal legs, her pale pink backless halter top with its plunging neck line clung wonderfully tight to her torso. A light white cotton jacket and a pair of open decorative sandals finished the package to her satisfaction.   Her hair and what little make up she decided to apply finished and finding the results to her liking she left her suite went to the lobby to catch her ride stopping at the front desk to inform them about her midnight visitor before easily spotting the COIL operative from across the lobby.

“Miss Baxter?” came the unsure voice as the spy approached.

“Yes, and you are?” she answered in a warm voice and smile.
.
“Sanja Ramesh, Miss Baxter,” answered the small lean and handsome young man in his early twenties.  “The car is waiting just outside if you are ready,” he said motioning with his hand which Claire acknowledged as she started for the hotel doors Sanja nipping in front just as she neared them and holding it open for her as he did the car door.  Claire let him settle into a driving rhythm before she started up the conversation.

“How long have you been an agent?” she inquired.

“Just three months,” he said very enthusiastically.

Claire smiled she knew the euphoria having experienced it herself when she was new.  “Can’t wait to sink yourself into some real action and put all that training to good use,” she said hoping it came out the way she intended, as encouragement not sarcasm.

“Absolutely, but patience as they say is it’s own reward, I know my time will come till then I observe and learn and take advantage of any and all offers that come my way such as meeting and hopefully working with you.”

“I tend to prefer to work alone most of the time,” Claire said as she watched his expression grow just the slightest despondent.  “However, there are times when I do require help and you never know this may be one of those times,” she added knowing the remark held her to nothing but had the desired effect of cheering up the young agent.
 
As they pasted the time talking Claire noticed the bulge between his legs hadn’t dissipated one bit since just after they’d met.  She took it as a compliment and even teased him a little by crossing her legs and showing a little more thigh than was usual as well as leaning towards him when she spoke.  After a pleasant twenty minute drive Sanja brought the car to a stop in front of an old colonial building.

“Here you are, Miss Baxter.  Take this pass card for the elevator, insert it and when the door opens again you’ll be inside COIL.”

“What about you?” Claire said as she exited the car and leaned in dangerously close through the open window.

“I work out of another office, but if you need me, I’ll be there,” his voiced insisted again in hopefully anticipation.

“This will be the death of you someday if you don’t learn to control it,” Claire said as she pointed a finger very close to his erection that pulsed and jumped as she drew close.   She gave him a smile then turned and made her way into the somewhat decaying structure.  Claire made her way across the deserted lobby heavy already with the heat and humidity of the new day to the lift.  Once inside she closed and locked the ancient iron gate as she swung it across the door face, the outer doors closed, she inserted the card into the slot and the car started to descend at a rapid but comfortable rate.  The spy knew that despite the run down appearance of the car she was being watched, scanned and rescanned by a bank of high tech equipment all designed to confirm her identity and determine if anything on her person posed a threat to COIL’s operation below, if it did she could expect to be eliminated in any of a dozen very unpleasant ways within seconds.  She only had time to mentally note the first three before the doors opened and she stepped out and into the end of a long sterile bricks and mortar corridor which she dutifully started down her hard soled sandals echoing back upon themselves with each new footfall.  A solid steel door and one final test barred her entrance into the inner sanctum of COIL.  Claire placed both her hands, palms flat, against the two-lighted panels on either side of the retinal eye scanner as she leaned forward into the eyepiece.
 

“Identity confirmed,” the machine’s none-too-human synthesised voice said as the door unlocked.

A welcoming blast of cool air greeted her, as did the welcoming hand of the Director, Lady Tara Ashton-White.  A titled born aristocrat she had been a star agent and still could be had their not been discreet but forceful pressure from the House of Lords to have her take a more, as they put it, administrative role within COIL in order to avoid any embarrassing scandal that might arise from her death or capture.    Claire knew her by reputation only and the initial vision only enhanced that further in the spy’s mind.  Blonde with icy electric blue eyes, the high cheekbones characteristic of the English aristocracy that helped set off the lovely red lips were just the start of the package.   Her extremely shapely and toned body was on full display underneath her two piece emerald Sari with a very untraditional slit up the front out of which just showed a snakingly lovely leg.  Her perfectly applicated and sparing use of make up and jewellery pushed the woman into the area of truly classic beauty.

“Welcome Miss Baxter, it’s an honour to meet you,” Lady Tara said enthusiastically as she delicately shook Claire’s hand.

“The honour is all mine Lady Tara,” Claire said genuinely.

“Then please do me the honour of dispensing with all that Ladyship nonsense and just call me Tara.”

“Then if you’re not going to use the title can I borrow it for a while,” Claire said and smiled before they both broke into smiles and a small shared laugh that cemented the two as friends.

“I can see you and I are going to get along quite well, Claire.  I’m sorry, I meant your Ladyship,” Tara said as the two smiled at each other.  “If you’ll come with me, we can spend a few pleasant minutes together before my Assistant Director joins us in my office with some information regarding your assignment.”

Claire followed Lady Tara Ashton-White down a long corridor whose offices on either side of the hallway gradually became larger denoting a rising in the ranks that befits a bigger office until a turn brought the two woman into the executive section of COIL India.  Mahogany office doors ranged along the two walls culminating at the far end in two large double doors that were the entrance to Lady Tara’s office.   Her administrative assistant upon seeing the two women advancing leapt from chair and held the door open.

“Thank you, Usha,” Tara said with a smile and a nod.

“Please have a chair and let’s talk for a while before Pushpa, that’s the Assistant Director, shows up and forces us to discuss dreary business.  Just between you and me, that woman is far too serious and intense for me.”

Tara elegantly melted into her chair; a Louis XXVI, while her guest did the same.  Claire watched the grace of the woman as she settled her body and then casually, but still with a purpose, crossed her legs, bringing her left leg free of the slit in the Sari as it deposited itself on top of the other.

“Once a spy always a spy,” Claire thought as she glanced furtively at Tara’s entrancing limbs.  'This woman still has all the tools to be a top operative.  That body’s still looks as deadly as everyone's description of it.'

“Tea with milk or lemon, Claire?” Lady Tara asked as she poured from the silver service on the coffee table between them.

“Lemon, please.”

Tara handed Claire a china cup and saucer and reclined again perfectly in her chair, the picture of beauty and elegance. She pondered the agent while taking a few sips of tea. Then she spoke.

“Please excuse the imprudence, but why have you been staring on and off at me for the past several minutes? Is there something you wish to ask or know about?  I was once an agent myself, so there’s no use in denying it.  Do you have something on your mind?”  Lady Tara inquired, not going as far as to mention Claire’s glances at her legs.

“Not at all.  I was thinking what a tremendous waste it was that you're not still a field agent.  From the little I know of you and the descriptions other people have given me, you’re still as beautiful and, excuse me this time for the imprudence, as deadly a woman as the said you were.  Don’t you miss it at all?  You were one of COIL’s best agents,” Claire answered calmly with a reassuring voice, not at all offended or embarrassed at being asked what could be taken as a pointedly awkward question, although somewhat relieved that she didn't have to answer why she had been gazing so fixedly at the woman’s legs.

Tara digested the question for a while before she answered. 

 “At first I did miss it greatly, yes,” she said, a reflective tone in her voice.  “I was bitter and put off at my government for interfering, but slowly I came to see their reasoning. Perhaps that’s just me rationalising the entire unpleasant affair.  I had many close scraps as an agent, as I’m sure you’ve had and will continue to have.  My last assignment, I was given up for captured and/or killed.  I went missing for two months in Sri Lanka a prisoner of S.N.A.R.E. (Secret Non Aligned Renegade Espionage) They tried many insidious and deadly ways to break me in order to obtain the whereabouts of a scientist I had been assigned to guard, but I resisted them all. In the end I managed to escape into the jungle with them on my back for a merry two-week chase, until I killed some and eluded the others and made it to safety.  Long story short, the British press, suspicious of my lengthy and, to that point, unsatisfactorily explained absence, was pressuring the government with not so wild stories about who and what I really was.  The Home Secretary was about to admit defeat and tell all when I turned up and saved the day, both for him and the government.  After that narrow escape, I was summoned to London and told about the House of Lords decision and placed here.  To come full circle, the times I miss it most are when I see a young woman like you and know that, but for an accident of birth and a title, I could still be out there trying to make a difference.  But in reality, I know this is what’s best, both for me, England and COIL as a whole, so I do my duty as best I can in that fine British stiff upper lip, pip, pip way,” Lady Tara said with a smile that made its way into a small laugh that they again both shared.

“But why India?” Claire pushed on.

“I was born and grew up here.  I only left to attend university in England.  My father and mother were attached to the Embassy in Delhi.  You could say I’m actually much more Indian in my tastes and pursuits than I am English.  This is really home for me.  Besides, just between you and me, I’m really just a figurehead. I have nothing much to do with the day-to-day operation as it stands, that’s Pushpa’s department, again my government's intentions for my safety.  The less I know, the less likely it is that I’ll be targeted by the enemy.

She stirred her Chai slowly with her spoon while she now gazed at Claire.  “I hear great things about you, Claire.  Your intelligence, inventiveness, your desire to succeed no matter what danger it presents to you and, well, how do I put this? Your adaptability to certain people and situations during the mission.”

The spy knew exactly what Lady Tara meant, especially the latter part and she wasn’t either offended or embarrassed by it.  Claire did what she had to do to complete her missions and if that sometimes involved seduction and or lovemaking with another woman, so be it.  Instead of responding, Claire just smiled and took a sip of her tea, letting the silence fill the room until a loud and forceful knock interrupted the peace of the moment and brought a look of exasperation to Tara’s face.

“Pushpa,” Lady Tara said, not hiding the disappointment in her voice and a little annoyance, not at the interruption, but at the person herself, if Claire guessed correctly.  “Please enter, Pushpa,” Lady Tara called out in a less than warm voice that surprised Claire, until she saw and was introduced to the Assistant Director.  “Claire Baxter, please meet Assistant Director Pushpa Advani.  She will be personally handling all aspects of your mission.  Isn’t that correct, Pushpa?”

“Yes,” came the stern and flat response.

Claire tried not to look too surprised, not even when the Assistant Director took her proffered hand and pumped it several times with a rock hard grip and a furious jerking action that would have been considered inappropriate even for a man.  Like Lady Tara Ashton-White, Pushpa Advani was dressed very nicely, as well, but the Assistant Director preferred the more traditional western skirt and blouse.

            Claire made a quick scan of the woman before her, once her hand had finally been released, and stepped back a little.  The Assistant Director's hair hung down in a single braid at the back, which just barely touched the bottom of the woman's neck. It was pulled so tightly about the sides of the face as to give Pushpa a lizard-like look.

The fact of her sharp dark eyes, with the skin stretched because of the hair, did little to alleviate giving the whole face a completely untrustworthy and, to Claire’s mind unattractive look.  The dress gave no clues away as to what lay underneath, it was loose and poor fitting and cut way below the knees so as to conceal her legs from evaluation as well.  A pair of brown, totally unappealing and uninspiring patent leather shoes completed the drab unfit.

            Claire, so used to being surrounded by attractive and beautiful people in her line of work, did a bit of a double-take mentally, but showed nothing at all to Pushpa except a pleasant smile and warm greeting. She noted it wasn’t returned.

“Please, everyone sit down and we’ll all have some tea while Pushpa briefs you, Claire,” the Director said as she motioned to the chairs in an effort to start things off right.

“I don’t think that would be wise, Your Ladyship,” Pushpa stated bluntly.  “You know the protocol as well as I do.  You are to have nothing to do with the knowledge of missions.  I will brief this agent in my office!”

“This agent has a name, in case you may have forgotten it as you seem to have your manners!” Claire snapped at her and then caught Tara’s smile at her barb.

“Pushpa is, of course, right again, as she always seems to be on matters such as these,” Tara said in a calm voice that she hoped would restore order and civility to the situation before it degenerated any further.  “I’ll send Claire to your office once I’ve said goodbye to her, Pushpa.  You can expect her in several minutes. I promise not to keep her long,” Lady Tara said in a firm, but fair tone that left no misunderstanding that the Assistant Director was dismissed.

The Director waited for the door the close, which it did loudly a few seconds later, before she turned to Claire.  “She knows her job, but trusts no one, not even me.”

“What do you mean?” Claire asked, somewhat puzzled by the remark.

“She scrutinises every assignment and agent activity herself.  Nobody else is allowed to see the outline of any assignment, not even me. As if outlines tell you anything. We both know they rarely fall into line with what actually transpires on a mission.  If I didn’t trust her, I wouldn’t, if you know what I mean, Claire.  She’s a strange person. I can never quite get a read on her one way or the other, despite my training.”  Seeing the quizzical look and slightly raised eyebrow come across the agents’ face, she quickly, but hesitantly added.  “But that’s just me and it's all completely my doing. I’m sure we just clash on some level that each of us is unaware of.  You and she will most likely get along famously and, speaking of that, you’d better nip off to her office before you get me in trouble with her over keeping you too long.”

“I hope I’ll get to see you again before I leave,” Claire said.

“I hope so, too. We have I think a great deal in common . . . but I wouldn’t count on it.  Not if Pushpa has her way,” Lady Tara said in something of an uncomfortable voice as she walked Claire to the door and said her goodbyes.

Claire pondered the last strange statement by Tara as she paused outside Pushpa’s door and steeled her body and mind for what she was sure was not going to be a pleasant time before knocking.  She didn't have to wait long for the acknowledgement to enter, as it came rapidly and sharply just after the knock.  She took a deep breath and swung the door open upon the neatest, tidiest, most bland and stale office she’d ever seen.  Not one plant or flower adorned any nook or cranny. Not one picture hung on the wall or sat atop her desk.  It was all so utilitarian as to be completely devoid of warmth or character, the singularly most sterile environment Claire had ever seen.  It perfectly matched its tenant in that regard.

“Take a seat, Miss Baxter, and we’ll start.  We have a great deal to cover.”

“You can call me Claire, if you like,” the spy said wishfully.

“I prefer to keep things on a professional level.”

"As you wish." Having tried and failed, Claire resigned herself to the coldness of the room and its owner as she dutifully sat in the chair by the desk, determined to get through the briefing as fast and as painlessly as humanly possible.

“I believe the part of the chip design you are seeking has been etched onto the Eye of Lapha, a semi-precious stone of aquamarine that used to reside in the home of one of the city's more prominent businessmen.  That was until approximately one week ago, when both the stone and he disappeared.  He turned up dead; the stone unfortunately has yet to turn up.  The stone as you can see from this picture, is about half the size of a normal chicken’s egg, except it is flat on one side and rounded on the other.  It did have a twin and once formed the eyes for a statue of Shiva. The other was lost sometime in the last century.  The gem itself has little value from a monetary standpoint, but as a religious artefact it is priceless beyond compare to believers.”

“Than what makes you believe this wasn’t simply a robbery gone bad, conducted by a faction of zealots bent on getting back a piece of their heritage?” Claire jumped in; knowing right after she said it that she’d make a tactical error.

"The businessman in question allowed the public to view stone in a private garden he had constructed at the back his home on a daily basis.  In fact, the local temple and its authorities supported him fully in doing this.  Not during the entire five years the Eye was on display did he receive one compliant or threat.  I hope that answers your question, Miss Baxter!” Pushpa said in an exasperated and somewhat agitated tone. She did not appreciate being interrupted.

“If you will turn your attention to this picture, perhaps it will explain why I believe the stone contains the blueprints you desire,” Pushpa said as she handed Claire first a normal sized picture and then an enhanced blown-up one.  “You can clearly see the etched lines that cover the flat back portion of the stone.  When the Eye was placed in the carving of Shiva, the light was unable to pass through, thus the stone appeared normal.  But this picture, taken at night and with a special light by one of my operatives, clearly confirms what had until that time been just my suspicions.”

“I agree," said Claire, "but that still doesn’t help. It only tells me that we don't know the location of what I’m supposed to look for.”

“We are coming to that, Miss Baxter, if you will please be patient!” Pushpa said in her now usual short tone.

“There is a woman named Seema, who runs a bookshop. She's a good friend of mine.”

Claire inwardly laughed at the good friend part. She found it impossible to believe this most unpleasant woman would have any friends at all, but she nevertheless returned her attention to the briefing.

“She knows much of what goes in Calcutta and if she doesn’t know, she can find out in short order.   You will start there.  Once you mention my name, she’ll know what to do.”

Claire took this as a sign the information session was over and got up to leave, taking the address for the shop in her hand.  She had just about reached the door, when Pushpa spoke again.

“Any information you gather, you are to report to me and to me alone!  Understand?”

Claire nodded an affirmative and hoped that was all.

“Miss Baxter, I discuss my information with no one. I trust I can count on the same from you.”

“Only you and I will have knowledge of this case,” Claire declared, her hand already turning the doorknob.

“I’ll have a car waiting for you on the street. Tell the driver the address and he’ll take you there,” Pushpa said, her voice fading as Claire closed the door.

“Not even a good luck, Claire -- I mean, Miss Baxter,” she said under her breath as she made for the elevator and the trip back to the lobby.

Sanja and the car were waiting for her as promised when she emerged into the hot midday sun.

“How long a drive to the shop, Sanja?” Claire inquired.

“Normally about forty-five minutes, Miss, but at this time off day, only about fifteen. You know what they say about mad dogs, Englishman and the noon day sun.  Well, that still holds true. Most people will be resting and the streets will most likely be fairly clear, so we should make excellent time.”

“Please call me Claire. The term Miss holds some not too pleasant memories of another of your countrymen I once met,” Claire requested politely.

“I am sorry Mis-- I mean Claire.  If that man was so foolish as not to see what I see, he is best forgotten.  If I may be so bold as to ask, was it an unpleasant parting of the ways?” Sanja inquired.

“Yes and no, but with any luck, we’ll meet again to try and work things out,” the spy said as she thought about Raj and their encounter, her legs tightening slightly together at the thought of his Curved Knot about her. He was deadly, but also erotic in his style, something she admired.  'My body will hold a few surprises for him the next time we literally tangle with each other,' she thought as her body tensed in the anticipation of the encounter. Her face flushed slightly.

“It is very hot today, Claire,” Sanja said as he reached around and passed her a bottle of water from a cooler he kept on the back seat.  “Your face is quite red. You need a drink.”

“Thanks,” said Claire as she pulled herself out of her daydream and back to reality, somewhat embarrassed that she had let herself slip that much.

They rambled along in silence after that, Claire drinking the water to replenish her body and looking at the passing scenery until, almost to the minute that Sanja had predicted it would take, he stopped the car between a small alleyway off the street.

“Here we are.  The store is up that alley about two hundred meters on the left.  You can’t miss it, just look for the house with the lovely garden out front.  I regret I cannot come with you, as I have to pick up another agent at the airport. I would like to see some of the books this woman has. I hear many are quite rare.  When you are done, come back down to this corner and you can get a cab back to your hotel,” he stated before putting the car in gear and speeding off, leaving a trail of quickly spreading dust that Claire avoided by starting up the alley.  Peddlers accosted her, politely, but forcefully, as she made her way along the narrow alley, perhaps at most ten feet wide, until, to her relief, the house she wanted came into sight. S

She doubled her step, placing a little distance between herself and her entourage of salesman.  Claire swung open and closed the wrought iron gate as quickly as was humanly possible. The merchants retreated before her, forced to seek out new clientele to whom to hawk their wares.  Claire watched them disperse and then turned to face the shop and the beautiful garden.

The garden quickly enveloped her senses as she made her way up the path to the shop.  Junipers, orchids of every description, sweet jasmine, gardenias and trumpet flowers, along with so many more it was impossible to mention, greeted her eyes and nose with colours and scents almost overpowering in their wondrous beauty.  She inhaled deeply and then made her way reluctantly up the path and into the store.
 

Unlike the stereotypical Indian shop with its clutter from floor to ceiling and every place in-between, this one was large open, airy and well organised. The customer could find things instead of the usual method of the storekeeper being the only one knowing an item’s exact whereabouts. Books lined the shelves, all neatly arranged by category and subject, some new, but many very old. Their leather bindings and roughly cut pages attested to their antiquity.  Claire strode slowly along one wall, her fingers trailing over the titles that interested her.

“Can I help you, Miss?” said a woman from the doorway at the back of the room.

Claire was somewhat startled, but quickly regained her composure before answering.  “Are you Seema?”

“Yes.”

“I was sent by Pushpa.  She said if anybody would know anything about the Eye of Lapha’s whereabouts, it would be you,” Claire said respectfully.

“Ah, so it is knowledge of a different kind than my books can provide that you seek,” Seema said, moving towards Claire. She watched the spy continue to finger some books absentmindedly.  “I see you are interested in yoga.  Are you a practitioner of the Art?” Seema questioned as she pulled the volume Claire had been touching as well as several others from the shelf.

“Just for fun, I’m not very good.” Claire offered with an apologetic smile.

“We all start at the beginning,” Seema answered with a warm smile.  “Come with me and we’ll have some Chai and talk further,” the woman offered. She led Claire through the opening at the back of the shop from which she had first appeared, then around a corner and up a set of narrow stairs, through another doorway and into a large, cool, semi-dark room.  She bayed Claire over to a set of cloth mats on the floor, which the spy deposited herself onto while the woman disappeared to get the tea by another large archway at the opposite end of the room that led to the kitchen.  Seema returned tray in hand, several minutes later. She was about fifty, though it was hard to tell, incredibly beautiful with lovely fine features, a small woman, maybe 5’2.” Claire had no idea about her figure as she wore a loose fitting, molasses-coloured Sari.  Her hair was tied up and pulled, Claire thought, rather severely back and tight to her head in a bun. The look was not at all attractive given the woman’s other assets, but Claire supposed it served it function, keeping her cool during the hot days.

“Come have some Chai,” she said, offering Claire a cup and saucer.  “Then we’ll talk.”

The Chai was just as it should have been, hot and sweet.  The two women drank in silence for several minutes, each enjoying the cool and the quiet of the large room.  The windows were set up high near the ceiling and, even at that, consisted only of very small, thin, elongated slits that let little light pass into the room, thus allowing it to stay cool.

“I’m afraid I’ve heard nothing about the Eye since it was stolen several weeks ago.  Whoever has it is lying low until the heat dies down,” Seema said between sips of her Chai.

Claire raised an eyebrow at her choice of words to which Seema replied.

“Too much Western television has crept into my vocabulary, I’m afraid,” she said with a laugh.  “I could make inquiries, but it would probably be several days before or if I could tell you anything.”

“I would be grateful if you did,” Claire answered thankfully.

“My pleasure.  Now, lets talk about other things I know I can help you with,” Seema said as she reached for one of the books.  “Yoga.  These books are excellent teachers. They can guide you through some of the basic movements and into the intermediate phases.  I used them when I was starting out, so I’m sure they’ll be invaluable to you as well, but as they say there’s no substitute for practice. I do three to four hours everyday in this very room.  In fact, I was just about to close up shop for the afternoon, come up here and begin.  As you have undoubtedly noticed, this room is exceptionally cool and quiet, perfect for mediation.”

“Then I should be going. I’m holding you up,” Claire said as she started to rise.

“Nonsense. In fact, I was just going to ask you to join me in my workout.  Perhaps I could impart some of my wisdom and expertise and help to enhance your understanding of yoga,” Seema said with a hopeful smile.

Not waiting for an answer, she disappeared down the stairs, only to return a few moments later. 

 “There. The shop is secured from intruders. We have the rest of the afternoon to ourselves.”  Seema then picked up the tray and assorted dishes and took them out the other door into the kitchen. Upon her return, she pulled a cord by the doorframe, cascading a screen of beads across the opening, partially blocking out the intrusion of the kitchen and giving the room a more meditative look.

“I’m really not dressed for a workout. Perhaps some other time?” Claire said as she took a step toward the stairs.

“Then don’t be dressed,” Seema said as she looked at Claire. The intention in her eyes and the tone of her voice left no misunderstanding of what she meant.

Claire smiled back. “You’re the teacher and a good student always follows her teacher’s path.”

The spy slipped off her halter-top, skirt, sandals and thong while Seema unwrapped the Sari.  The body that emerged from under the loose fitting Sari shocked Claire, as her face and staring eyes instantly gave away.  Seema had the perfectly toned and sculpted body of a thirty-year-old.

Her breasts were small and firm, perfectly rounded in shape and capped with lovely pink nipples the colour of roses. Her toned thighs and hips, tight stomach and faultless skin all begged to be touched.  Seema smiled as she caught Claire’s eyes upon her.

“Three to four hours each day has enabled me stay young, not only in mind, but, as you can see, in body as well.  Shall we begin?  Just follow what I do as best you can.” The two came together side by side on the mats.

Claire followed closely her teacher’s movements, mirroring as best she could Seema’s body.  After about twenty minutes, despite the cool room, the nude women’s bodies started to glisten from their exertions.

“You’re very good, my dear, and a fast learner,” Seema said as she watched Claire stretch her young, nubile body.  “Repeat that set we just did. I want to watch and check your positioning, if you don’t mind.”

Claire dutifully started from the beginning as her partner watched. Seema then made a move that Claire knew was coming and had expected.

“Your leg is a little low in this position,” the teacher offered as she adjusted Claire’s outstretched appendage up a little, running her soft warm hands down the length of Claire’s tensed and further tensing limb.

“Next position,” Seema commanded as she inserted herself deftly in back of and between Claire’s legs.  Claire bent her raised leg up at the knee, her calf coming into contact with Seema’s back and probing upward until her foot caressed and then fell into place at the side of her teacher’s neck.

The older woman responded by cupping her younger partner’s firm ass in her arms and massaging tenderly as Claire rocked back and forth to the siren motion. After several minutes, Seema slipped one hand between Claire’s thighs and stroked lovingly, while the other sought out and secured one of the spy’s nipples in a mesmerising circular attack of delight.  Seema built the pleasure slowly, but incessantly, her skill undeniable in its application.

Claire’s moans of delight filled the still room as she orgasmed minutes later, her body at first tensing and convulsing in ecstasy before weakening. Seema guided her down to the mat, the teacher’s form melding on top of the spy.

The teacher listened to her pupils’ body: it’s breathing and heart rate and felt it’s heat for a few minutes. She let her student rest before commencing once again. The woman gently and tenderly kissed Claire’s back; delivering small and welcomed nips with her teeth at various nerve endings, convulsing the spy.  Purposefully she worked up her lover’s back, first the lower part, kissing the spine and individual vertebrae as she pushed up to the shoulder blades. Her lips covered the space between them with still more kisses, nips and a few licks of her tongue.

Claire could feel the woman’s firm breasts press into her back as Seema seductively crawled up her body. The bookseller’s erect, hard; nipples left small indentations in her soft skin.

The teacher swayed on top of her pupil, her lips sealing themselves upon the back of Claire’s neck, setting the spy’s desire aflame anew.

Claire turned her head sideways and up off the carpet, searching out her partner’s lips. “Not yet, my eager young student,” Seema whispered hotly into her ear within the cool dark room. “There will be time for that later, but first, we must attend and return to the workout.”

Seema worked one of her legs between Claire’s and slowly pried them apart, using the arch of her foot to caress and stroke the spy’s leg up and down its length to urge on her partner. Bending her body upward, Seema tactically slipped the flat of her foot around Claire’s mound, her toes strategically positioned to deliver maximum pleasure to her student when the time came. For the moment, she held them perfectly still. Next she slid her free leg around and under Claire’s chin, while her hands moved snakingly into position around Claire’s excited nipples.  The scent of the teacher was intoxicating. Her body lotion was a mixture of exotic spices and flowers that only served to heighten the spy’s pleasure receptors.

Cautiously the teacher built her student up, using her skills to subtly stroke and glide her fingers and toes around her student’s zones, all the time talking and cooing to Claire. Her words, as much as her actions, helped build the spy to the pinnacle Seema wanted.

“Feel all of me, my dear. Sense me around you, my embrace of pleasure.  Just you and I exist. I’m here just for you and your pleasure.”

Claire began to slowly rotate her hips, co-ordinating her movements as best she could with those of her teacher. The master teacher could feel the student’s pulse racing. Seema knew that Claire was at the edge. Seema’s final probing thrust pushed Claire over to moans and then screams of delight. Claire spent herself, her mound wriggling against Seema’s foot in a frenzy of glory.

The teacher smiled. She knew she’d succeeded in every way she had hoped . . . except one and it was next.

Claire, her body lathered in her delighted exertions and limp from activity, relaxed and waited, hoping for more.

“That was incredible! But I can’t absorb any more pleasure for a little while. How about a short rest until I recover my strength?” Claire gasped.

“I’m glad to hear I was so successful in my application.  It fills me with confidence for the next one!” Seema slithered as she tightened the previously sensual hold around the agent! 

 “Sexual yoga can be fun, but it can also be deadly, if applied by an expert, Claire!” Seema’s foot was jammed hard into Claire’s crotch just as the other leg pulled up and back on Claire’s chin. Her arms deserted Claire’s still erect nipples, swept around the agent’s chest and locked behind Claire’s neck, securing the spy’s arms.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Claire yelled in surprise.

“Killing you, of course, my dear,” came the smooth calm reply.

“Don’t you believe I’m a COIL agent?” Claire said desperately as the yoga hold began to take effect.

“Oh, yes, my dear. I believe you completely, just as it must be dawning on you that I’m a DOOM assassin – retired, but still effective, wouldn’t you agree?”

It had all been a trap. Only one person could have been responsible for it: Pushpa!  As the shock and betrayal wore off, Claire felt the woman about her, working her deeper into the embrace.

Seema’s smooth, scented body working her trapped lover tighter with each passing second. “Yoga is such a perfect killing tool, don’t you agree? Elegant, graceful, flowing, purposeful in its movements, gentle in its touch and finally, fatal in its application. You feel my body everywhere, don’t you? Its touch, its grip, its cling and yet, all you can do is wait and pray, either for death or for its deliverer to make a mistake. Pray for death, my dear, because that’s the prayer that will be answered!” Seema slithered.

Every expertly trained sinew of Seema’s body fed her information about her victim, telling her what to do next and when to finish the struggling agent.  She listened in the light and the shadow to Claire’s breathing and the spy’s contortions of attempted escape before deciding it was time to lock the hold and terminate her young foe.  The teacher moved slowly, gliding her body into position.

“Just a touch away from death, my young student. Thank you for a delightful workout!”

Claire, however, had other plans. She sprung into action, her body picking the lock of Seema’s body hold and twisting free from the woman!

“So, you do know a little more yoga than you let on, my dear,” the teacher said calmly, despite the shock of Claire’s escape.  “Whoever your teacher was, she taught you well.”

“You’ll soon find out and, more importantly, feel how much yoga I know!” Claire stated as she attacked.

Seema retreated right away, her experience coming to the forefront.  A bigger opponent must be attacked with speed and stealth, not strength.  Claire, however, was neither in a charitable nor co-operative mood. The COIL agent reigned blows down on the woman faster than she could react.  Kicks and punches found their marks as Seema was rapidly reduced to rag doll status.

Claire executed a hand stand in front of the reeling woman, wheeled around on her hands, twisted her hips and whipped a spinning leg kick that sent the teacher flying, to crash across the room, landing near the stairs.

Seema somehow managed to get to her feet and stumbled down the side hallway, heading for the other archway to the room, the one that led to the kitchen.  Claire listened to the sounds she made and timed an intercept for the precise time Seema appeared on the other side of the archway.  The spy, slowly at first, but with increasing speed, back flipped towards the open, Claire’s body becoming a blur of dervish motion within seconds.  Seema turned just in time as Claire’s body made contact with the beads.  A rustle of sound resulted as the beads smacked and crackled together. Then there was a blast of air from the force of Claire’s body . . . and finally silence!

The Yogic assassin smiled as she turned and picked up a flask from a small, wall-mounted shelf before she made the journey around the hallway again and into the room via the other door. She confronted Claire, who hung upright, helpless in the beads, several inches off the floor!

“Those beads are quite sticky, my dear, as you can no doubt tell and feel. Decorative and deadly, they hold fast anything they come into contact with, that is, unless one first applies a special lubricant to their body,” Seema said as she smiled and lifted the flask.

Claire twisted and screwed her stuck body in a vain effort to tear free as Seema laughed.  “I’m afraid you’re mine once again and this time, you won’t escape.  You really are quite a yoga expert. Shame on you for lying! I had hoped to finish you quickly, but now, we have all the rest of the day. First, though, I need to prepare.”

Seema opened the flask and poured a little of the liquid onto her palm, its pungent odour filling Claire’s mind with its scent.  Carefully the teacher smoothed her arms and neck in the oil until they glowed.  She poured at little more out and slowly moved closer to her stuck prey as she mesmerizingly rubbed her breasts with the elixir.  Next Seema coated both her feet and calves before raising one leg and placing in on Claire’s shoulder, her foot coming to rest against the back of Claire’s neck. Claire watched her applicate her taut round thigh and mound before she switched legs and repeated the process. Then Seema dislodged her leg to stand once more before her webbed foe. Seema arched her body back slightly and tantalisingly poured a small amount of the oil onto her chest. The lubricant ran like a slow moving, meandering river between the mountains of her breasts, sliding and curving about her skin as it descended her chest and spilled onto her stomach. Both her hands pressed against her body as she twisted and writhed in a seductive rhythm, while her hands worked up and down, coating her in the fluid.  Up on her toes, she pirouetted and fell forward, her tight sculpted ass dancing in front of Claire as she rubbed the liquid about it and her back. As a final act, she reached up and pulled the pin out of her hair, letting the silky black strands fall down her back.  Seema used her pre-oiled hands to coat her hair, giving Claire a seductive, over-the-shoulder look before turning around to face her.

“Did you know that my name in English means ‘creeper?’ Just like my namesake, the vine, I intend to grow on you, slowly blanketing you in me,” Seema said, flashing Claire a deadly smile. “Shall I begin the lesson again, my dear?” said the retired woman as she slipped by Claire through the beads and attacked the trapped agent from the rear.  “As you may or may not know, Indian woman are famous for the soft, sensuous kill. It is our preferred method of death for our victims.”

Claire defiantly corkscrewed her body within the beads, in a vain effort to dislodge her glued form, as Seema’s words played upon her mind.

“Don’t struggle, my dear, the beads have you firmly within their grip, just as I soon will,” the teacher said as she turned herself back to back with Claire and executed as slow handstand.  Bending at the hips, Seema’s legs encircled Claire’s slim waist, then rose as her toes probed up the trapped woman’s stomach and chest until they found her magenta coloured nipples. The woman’s oiled toes slipped about, fondling and hardening them with her skilful manipulations that served to calm the struggling agent, turning the spy’s grunts of fury into sighs of delight.  Seema worked the nipples between her soft toes, tenderly squeezing and stroking Claire to orgasm within minutes of starting.

As the spy tensed in rapture, the older woman’s oiled-coated body pushed upward until the tops of her feet cupped the back of her prey’s neck. Her hands left the ground, secured her student’s legs by crossing over her prey’s ankles and held them in place as she tensed her lethally toned body into Claire’s.  Her body, ever so subtly, displayed her strength as waves of corded, trained muscle rippled to the surface, bringing Claire sharply back to reality!

“Now that I have a good hold on you, we can advance the lesson.  You will be trapped in my body for the remainder of your life, several hours at most, depending on your resistance to my skills,” Seema hissed as she began to probe her victim’s neck with her toes, seeking and securing the nerve endings she sought. Her fingers did the same around Claire’s calves.  A few minutes of probing achieved the desired results. Seema felt Claire within the hold. The sensations guided her to maximum effectiveness. A small tap with the top of her foot dropped the captured spy’s neck forward.

  “Just a little muscle and nerve relaxation technique, to reduce your ability to resist me, my dear.”

By sheer force of will, Claire pushed her head back up.  “It will take more than that to get to me!” Claire answered defiantly.

The slick, snakelike assassin smiled.  She loved a long, slow kill, so erotic in nature and this woman was giving her just what she wanted.  The teacher tensed about the student, again adding a slight twist of her body to give Claire a feeling for her power as she drew close into her victim.  Seema crept slowly up the spy’s body until her pussy formed and sealed gently around Claire’s face, not enough to cut of the air, but her flexing thighs made sure the COIL agent was fixed in place.  The assassin’s rhythmic dancing hips moved about Claire their entrancing movements encouraging a response from her.  It took several minutes before Seema’s seductive magic initiated success, Claire’s tongue cautiously at first but with each undulation from the senior woman, increased in intensity. Claire fought to resist, but was surprised how pathetic her efforts turned out to be. She knew the oil was a lubricant for the beads, but she now realised it must have also be acting as an aphrodisiac on her.

“Excellent my student, drink in the drug and me, we are both lethally addictive and equally deadly to the touch,” the retired woman slithered to her trapped student.  Claire could feel the woman tensing around her, the pressure always moving as she brought her adversary to orgasm and a final complete immobilising of her body and Seema pulsed about and around her in rapturous delight.  She smiled with pleasure and satisfaction and proceeded to return the favour to Claire and advance her cause about the spy.  The woman’s hands cupped and held Claire’s hard firm ass for support as she arched up and pressed her mouth into Claire’s sex.

Seema pushed in against her entangled prey, her tongue driving the trapped agent insane with pleasure. The deadly woman’s tongue strokes and thrusts did their work perfectly. Claire came in a delirium of moans and deep purrs. The woman smiled.  The teacher released her thighs slightly. This time, Claire’s head could not rise.

“Your sting is gone, my dear,” Seema hissed. “You are now totally my prisoner. My skills are your jailer, my body, your executioner!  Over time, of course.” The assassin continued her cling about the webbed spy, her magic feet and hands continuing to work on the agent’s nerve endings.

Claire could feel the numbness slowly start to creep into her appendages, but she was helpless to resist the woman as long as she was stuck in the web of sticky beads.  Claire watched the shaft of light move across the floor in front of her as the woman continued her art.  She estimated at least three hours had elapsed since her teacher had started. She didn’t know how many hours lay ahead, only that her legs and arms were very weak.  The lethal woman crept about her. Seema’s body repositioned itself around Claire’s every ten minutes or so, then drew tight to hers.

Finally, she stopped. Her chest pressed into Claire’s back, her chin rested on the spy’s shoulder. “I promised you this before,” she whispered to her opponent, her tongue flicking into Claire’s ear, her hot breath still managing to turn the captured spy on.

Seema titled Claire’s head back until her victim’s mouth was enveloped within Seema’s, whose tongue rolled around inside the COIL agent’s mouth in a playfully fatal way.  “My kiss of death!” she breathed after they had separated.  “How long can you resist me, my dear?” Seema said.  “We shall soon find out!”

The teacher cupped her knee into the back of Claire’s thighs and pulled them upright, her skills had made them weak and receptive to her ministrations. Her hands alternately took over for her legs as she straightened each leg in its turn and swept the ankles behind Claire’s head, creating a natural rest for them to fall into at the back of the spy’s neck, trapping them there.  The teacher then leisurely slipped and slithered her body about her student, cinching her tight as her body leeched onto her victim once again, her toes and fingers placed for action.

“My nerve and muscle deadening skills are unique, wouldn’t you agree, my soon to be former student? As my fingers and toes continue to disable what is left of your defences, my body draws ever closer to yours until, eventually, we are completely intertwined. I will kill you, gently and pleasurably, just as I promised. The procedure is called the Cocooned Butterfly, a very ancient and well-guarded Yogic Death Hold and you are about to become its latest victim,” Seema softly voiced as she clung to her prey.

The retired woman applied her trade with all the skill of her years, never rushed or sloppy in her pinching of Claire’s still resistant body.  Her feet and hands cunningly massaged the spy’s legs and arms with succulent touches and long sweeping actions, designed to sink the woman deeper into the butterfly.  While her seduction worked, the assassin drew her cling just a little tighter, but never too much at once. She wanted Claire to feel the incremental death into which her victim was being enveloped.

As if her lethal bodily manipulations weren’t enough, Claire found her voice and choice of words impossibly entrancing as well. “Come, little butterfly, come into your cocoon.”

Seema voice spoke in a tranquillising tone as her foot snaked and curved up and down Claire’s calf, its deadly, gentle strokes damaging Claire at will as the leg relaxed a little further and Seema’s body crept tighter. “There now, you can feel a little more of me. Come, my student, follow my lead,” she cooed.

“Excellent. A little more of you for your teacher to feel, and you are delectable within my body,” as she coiled the spy a little deeper into the cocoon.

“A little more, my dear. There! Now I have all of you!”  The woman smiled as she closed the cocoon about Claire and cinched her oiled, glistening body, her trained muscles rippling in the fading light.

The student and the teacher rocked slightly in the beads as Seema wound herself around her. The sticky beads no longer had any effect on Claire; her body had been so coated in the oil by her murderer’s clasp that they had slowly fallen away over time. Claire, however, had been unable to escape, as the assassin substituted one trap for another.

First the beads; then her nerve and muscle attack; and finally her body. All the while the beads, as they slipped from the spy’s body, had been attached and tied together to form a hanging canopy that now suspended the two women above the floor. It seemed as if the assassin’s talents knew no end.

Claire refused to yield to the woman. Her body moved about, looking for escape within the woman’s.

Seema dug in and cut off muscles. Her toes and fingers paralysed more and more of the COIL agent with each passing minute.

“Come, little butterfly, rest in my cocoon,” the woman stroked as Claire spent energy in little rolls and thrusts, much to Seema’s delight.

 She attacked her weakening prey vigorously.  The teacher could feel her student slowly succumb to her manipulations. The escape attempts slowed over the passing minutes. Her body’s clinch draining her prey of energy.

Finally, Claire lay still. Seema pressed inward, sensing victory. Her clasp now was designed to be fatal and unforgiving; her oil-coated body tensed her student with a magnificent display of her muscles as they pushed to the surface. She squeezed Claire to the breaking point before the spy responded.

“You never asked me who my real yoga teacher was,” Claire voiced in surprising clarity, given her situation. 

 No response came from Seema, but Claire could sense and feel a change come over the teacher’s body. Seema tensed her prisoner just a little too insistently.

“Does the name Indira Ramesh mean anything to you?” The spy smiled.

The battle turned on that name and the skills that name had imparted to her pupil. 

 “She taught me this hold, among a myriad of others, but more importantly, she taught me the counters and escape techniques to go with each.  Shall I elaborate, ‘teacher?’ My rocking and thrusting motions, which, in truth, did turn me deeper into your body, also allowed me to initiate my escape! While you concentrated on finishing me, I began the operation of escape! I allowed you to think I was panicking, when, in reality, I was positioning and repositioning the loose beads about the canopy – to reverse our situations and trap you in your own web!”

Claire spoke this as she used the last of her stored energy to twist her plan into action.  With precision movements, the spy rolled and dipped about her carefully constructed web trap, hooking and holding the woman at specific points until Seema was lost in a nest of intricate tangles.

At this point, Claire was still in Seema’s grasp. Expertly, the spy began the process of emerging from her cocoon and sealing her fellow combatant into hers!  Delicate, almost imperceptible, touches to certain points of the older woman’s body released the pressure Seema had so carefully built up. Finally, Claire pulled a bent leg free, then slowly straightened it and seized a hanging strand of beads within her toes, which she pulled back and looped around one of the assassin’s ankles.  A feathery body arch produced an arm that, in turn, secured yet another well placed strand around the woman’s arm.

Seema tried to renew her siren call to Claire with her remaining free limbs, but her wispy touch, so effective before, was now restrained by her own beads.

Claire hooked one more strand, turned her torso daintily, loosened her other leg and pulled it free. She encased her opponent in several more encumbering strands before her one remaining appendage slipped from Seema’s clutches. The butterfly crept free of her cocoon. Just as a newly born butterfly spreads its wings to dry on the wind before lifting into the air, so, too, did Claire, to cool her body from the heated effects of the woman’s hold. She relaxed in the canopy before returning to the work of finishing Seema.

The remaining bead strands were pulled up and tied into place about the trapped woman before she was gently rolled over and suspended, face down, to the floor, where Claire joined her seconds later. Claire slipped between the woman and the cool floor.

“I wouldn’t move too much, my ‘teacher,’ not, that is, unless you want to die!” Claire smiled, her face mere inches from her counterpart. “Our reversal of positions and fortunes has placed you firmly in the grip a Thugee Constriction Knot!  The slightest wrong move will draw the beads and the knot tighter.  Of course, there are right moves that can be applied in order to release pressure and eventually free oneself,” Claire purred and smiled.  “I do hope you had as good a teacher as I did.  I would very much like to renew our mutual love of yoga in the future.”

Claire slipped out from under her silent, captured prey, put her clothes back on and went exploring within the house, hoping against hope she wouldn’t find what she eventually did – the body of the real owner of the store. It had been a set-up all along, as she’d suspected. The unfortunate woman’s corpse simply confirmed it.

Claire departed the workout room without a backward glance to her entwined prey, but not before picking up the books she’d selected.  She took a few more from downstairs and stepped out into the late afternoon sun.  Within a few minutes she had hailed a cab and was speeding back to COIL, for what she hoped would be a not-too- pleasant confrontation with Pushpa!

Her calm demeanour masked the inward raging volcano as she breezed into COIL and made her way towards the Assistant Director’s office with a light, but purposeful, step. One thing played on her mind – what she was going to do to Pushpa once she closed the door.

She knocked more out of keeping up the illusion of civility to the passers-by in the hallway than anything else. She turned the knob, opened the door . . . and found an empty office – a totally empty office, everything was gone!

Claire closed the door quickly and made straight for Lady Tara’s office, the panic rising in her mind with each step.

“Usha,” Claire said, remembering the Administrative Assistant’s name. “I need to see her Ladyship right away,” her voice calm, but assertive.

“I’m sorry, Miss Baxter, but Lady Tara gave strict instructions that she was not to be disturbed all afternoon.  She and the Assistant Director had something very urgent to–”

The voice of Usha became a distant sound as Claire burst into the office. Her fear was realised.  Lady Tara lay slumped in her chair behind her desk, a needle protruding from her neck. The spy was beside her in seconds, removed the needle and smelled and tasted the imbedded end before spitting out the residue.

Usha had already picked up the phone and was calling for emergency help when Claire informed her of the poison that had been used. Usha dutifully relayed the information.  The medical team arrived scant seconds later and went to work on the woman as Claire scanned the room for clues. Unfortunately, she found none.

‘Come on Tara, come on!’ Claire thought over and over again as the medical team worked on her for what seemed an eternity.

Finally, they got a response and the former spy started to crawl her way back to life.  It took another several hours for her to be strong enough to relate to Claire what had happened, although the agent already knew most of what she was going to say before she said it.

Somewhat uneasily, Lady Tara began her tale.

 “Pushpa and I normally meet every Thursday, but she said something important had come up and we needed to discuss the matter right away. She came in with a file in her usual stiff way and sat on the opposite side of my desk.  She suggested I might want to take notes. Just as I was writing down the date and the time on my notepad, I felt a prick in my neck. Then I must have passed out. The next thing I remember was the medical team looking over me as I regained consciousness.” Tara glanced at the desk clock before looking back at Claire. “I was only out about ten minutes, if I judge correctly.”

“Another minute and it would have been an eternity.  The poison she used incapacitates the victim almost immediately, but takes a while to kill,” Claire said in a relieved voice, which Lady Tara noticed. “I take it there’s another way, a secret passage, out of this room that she used to make her escape,” Claire added.

Tara showed Claire the secret panel and how it was activated before they began to search her office for any missing files.

“She had keys and pass codes for everything. I’m afraid she’s got it all: active agent lists, duty assignments and key data on people and organisations we have been monitoring.  What about her office?” Tara said dejectedly.

“Everything’s been cleaned out, although it was so Spartan before, it’s hard to tell how much is really missing. We have to assume the worst, though. Even from a quick glance around, I can tell you she pulled the hard drive on her computer.  Which, judging by her personality type, is where I’d say she kept all her files anyway,” Claire answered, disgust in her voice. 

 “We need to find her as soon as possible, before this turns into a huge disaster,” Claire said in her best determined voice, even as she heard Lady Tara’s rising laugh.

“Where shall we start to look for her in a city of eight million people, in a country of over one billion, Claire?  I’m sorry to laugh. I realise the gravity of the situation, but she’s gone and there’s nothing you or I nor anybody else can do at this point.  Now, I must ask you to leave. I have to call COIL headquarters and relay some bad news, after which I suppose I’ll have a second early retirement,” Lady Tara said, putting her best face on the situation.  “I’ll get a car to take you back to your hotel. You must be exhausted after all you’ve been through today.”

Claire smiled thanks and left the Director to make the call. She made her way up the hall and into Pushpa’s office one final time; just on the slim chance that she might find a clue that would lead her to the woman.

She knew she’d find nothing. Several fruitless minutes confirmed her predetermined hypothesis.  She closed an open desk drawer and left the office, just as a forensic team was making its way down the hall to conduct its own hopeless campaign for clues.
The care ride back to the hotel happened in silence, she was not in the mood for conversation, and thankfully neither was the driver so they politely ignored each other.
“We’re sorry to see you leave so soon Miss Baxter,” the front desk clerk said as if he truly meant it.  “Was the room not up to your standards?  Please tell me and the hotel will make every opportunity to see that it is if you will stay.”

“No the room was fine.  It even came with its own snake,” Claire answered sardonically as she paid her bill, motioned to the porter and made for the exit.  “One close call is one too many,” she thought to herself as she tipped the porter waited for him to leave and then motioned for a cab.

Luckily Calcutta supported a large number of excellent hotels and tourist villas, a quick call from her cell phone while packing had secured a very nice suite, even nicer and she hoped safer than the one she’d left.   Upon inspection the suite was impressive indeed, a large siting room that connected to the bedroom and beautiful en suite done in marble and red granite.  Two large doors from the bedroom led on to a stone balcony that overlooked the hotels small but ornate garden.  “This will do nicely,” she said to herself as she busied about unpacking and securing her new home before falling into one of her favourite activities, namely a soak in a tub complete with exotic oils and fragrances.  She reclined letting the luxuriant waters overflow and saturate her body with their healing touch as she pondered her next move. 

 “Such a closed woman,” she thought as her eyes slid shut and she focused on Pushpa, conjured her up and tried to probe inside her mind for a clue as to where she might be or what her next move might entail. 

 Claire put a hot face cloth over her head hoping the warm fabric would pry open a recess of her mind, but nothing came to the surface except waves of tiredness and the need for sleep.  She admitted defeat, for the moment, in the morning she’d pick up the challenge once more.

“I appreciate the information,” Claire spoke, between sips of tea and bites of food into her cell phone as she sat on the balcony in the early morning sun making notes with her free hand. 

 “I agree, but it’s all we have to go on at the moment.  No, but thanks for the offer, I’d like to handle this myself, as you know from my file I prefer to work alone.   Now it’s my turn to be imprudent, how did the call go yesterday?”

  There was a long uncomfortable silence that told Claire all she needed to know and didn’t want to know. 

 “When are you leaving?”  Claire wanted to say all manner of reassuring phrases, but she knew none of them would comfort Lady Tara or change the situation, the only hope for that was finding Pushpa. 

 Instead she made uncomfortable small talk, which strangely grew more uncomfortable with each passing minute of conversation to Lady Tara who despite the personal tragedy that had just befallen her remained positive and upbeat a direct contrast to Claire’s solemn manner. 

 “I wish I had that kind of personality and inner resolve,” the spy said as she ended the call with a slight shake of her head in disbelief.

 Claire had requested and received two addresses from Lady Tara, one for the residence of the murdered owner of the Eye of Lapha and the other for Pushpa’s residence which the former spy had requested she check out in case by some small miracle they yielded any clues.  She decided to start at the beginning, namely the last none location of the Eye.  She walked around the corner from the hotel and hired a taxi for the day, picking the best car out of a passel of automobiles that had clearly seen better days.  The drive took about 45 minutes, the home in question lying in very fashionable district of old colonial homes that had once been the principle residences of the ruling British.  The taxi swung in and up a long sloping driveway toward the house, a large mansion done in the Georgian Revival Style of the 1830’s.  A guard rushed in alarm from his post at the front door as he saw the car approach alarmed at the sight of such a vehicle within the confines of the grounds.  His beating pulse skipped several beats then raced a little faster as he saw the long tanned legs emerge from the back seat and a clearly elegant and sophisticated lady draw herself up to full height, stopping him dead in his tracks.

 “Very sorry Miss,” was all he could burble as Claire flashed him a controlled sexy smile reassuring him that no offence was taken.

            “I would like to see the Statue of Shiva if I could please,” she asked using her very persuasive voice which always unlocked any man’s resistant.  She was escorted to the garden by way of a fine river pebble pathway flanked on either side by orchids and other various tropical flowers all in full bloom from the bright morning sun.  She passed under a large stone archway that was totally enveloped in the greenery of a Virginia Creeper and into the formalised inner garden that was circular in nature.  The path ran around the Statue of the Goddess Shiva, which in of itself was quite impressive without all the added touches the garden provided.   Carved of granite and highly polished the statue stood in the middle of the circular path surrounded by a sea of immaculately manicured lawn that Claire guessed was about 10 feet in diameter.  The spy placed a foot on the lawn and started to make her way toward Shiva, the guard who had been admiring her from behind ran forward and grabbed her arm pulling her quickly back onto the path.  Claire had to suppress every reactive instinct she’d been taught, but she managed, just barely to keep herself from throwing the man through the air.  Instead she reacted with a flush of indigence and a wrenching attempt to free her arm from his.

 “Sorry Miss, but nobody is allowed to leave the path,” the guard said as he released her arm.

 “All I wanted to do was place my offering to the Goddess at the base of her statue,” Claire said in a mock but convincingly angry tone as she held aloft the flower she’d purloined from the garden on the way in when the guard wasn’t looking.

“Then you must toss it onto the grass and hope you get it close enough so that Shiva will she and be pleased by it,” he said as he finally freed her arm.

“Then you should post signs to that effect and spare people the embarrassment of a situation just as has happened.  However if I have offended in any way I apologise.  Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll make my offering and you can go back to staring at my ass from over there,” Claire said her tone changing from foolish embarrassed tourist to worldly woman in two sentences.

   The second of which had the desired effect of sending the guard scrambling away to his post in shame at being caught out.  Claire reached into her handbag, retrieved her sunglasses, donned then so as to get a better view of the statue from the glare emanating from the white-hot sun in a cloudless sky above.  She slowly circled the Goddess in a measured even pace until several minutes later she returned to her starting point tossed her flower, hit the base of the statue, turned and left. 

 “That should be close enough to get Shiva’s attention,” she triumphed to the guard as she passed him on her way out of the enclosure and back to her waiting taxi and departed the mansion for her next destination.  Just be safe and sure the COIL agent switched taxis along the way.

 The small nondescript home perfectly fit the owner.  Everything was neat, organised and bland.  Claire didn’t think it was possible to have a sterile and antiseptic flower garden, but here it was and it perfectly complimented the uniform white structure she was about to enter which had Pushpa written all over it.  Inside the little bungalow it was more of the same, all the walls were painted landlord white and everything was neat and orderly right down to the exacting placement of food on shelves and the dishes in drawer’s, all perfectly arranged.

“I’ve been in hospital’s that weren’t as sterile as this place is!  How could a person live like this?  No books, pictures, music, nothing!  No wonder she lost her mind and defected!” Claire mused. 

 “Well lets see what the bedroom holds, if there’s one place a woman’s personality comes out, it’s the bedroom!” 

  Claire made her way towards the back of the house and the master bedroom down the blinding white painted hallway and into a perfectly functional bedroom and that’s all it was, just functional, not even the merest trace a femininity could Claire find. 

 “Pyjama’s!  What woman wears pyjama’s, unless only the tops!” she said to herself in exasperation as she closed Pushpa’s dresser draw. 

 There clearly was nothing here to give the spy any clues about the woman she was trying to track down, Lady Tara had been right all along there was nothing here.  Claire made her way out of the bedroom and into the hallway and then it happened!  The door to the bedroom slammed shut and locked behind her at the same time the floor quickly began to slide away under her feet, breaking apart at the half way point up the hall and moving in opposite directions!  There wasn’t time to react fast enough to the rapid movement of the floor she was down to just a foot between her and the door and looking at the prospect of a jump of over 12 feet to the other end of the hallway and the ledge on the other side that led to freedom.   She knew she couldn’t make the jump from a standing position and walking in between was clearly out of the question given that the disappeared floor revealed a pit of quicksand along its length.  As the thought the floor started to move again, not fast as it had before, there was no need to hurry this time, the prey was trapped, so time was not a factor.  Claire quickly pushed the flats of her hands against one side of the hallway and her feet against the other and commenced to walk her legs up the wall until she was parallel across the hall her body suspended about 4 feet above the sinking death that hoped to claim her.  Exerting all the force she could outward from her limbs she started the task of walking herself up the hallway to freedom.

 The spy had only gone several small steps when the trap sprung its next attack upon her!  The jets of hot steamy moist air began to invade the corridor, heating up the walls, making them slick with moisture and hard to maintain a hold on.  It also heated up Claire, very rapidly moisturising her body and coating it in a slick film forcing her to sped more outward energy to hold her position on the wall, a battle she was losing as she slipped downward!  The spy reached into her hair, removed what was quickly becoming her prized weapon and jammed the tungsten tongs of her hair comb into the plaster wall stopping her precipitous slid to certain oblivion for the moment.  The COIL agent inched along a little more of the wall as the jets of steam stopped there hissing and once again the hallway was silent.  Drops of exertion fell from the spy’s body, splashing noisily into the quicksand, one after the other after the other until Claire felt them cascading on her as well and thought the worst.  The intermittent droplets soon increased in frequency and intensity until a torrent of rain, extremely cold rain crashed about her vertical form, numbing, cramping and erecting every part of it.  Claire kept moving as best she could but she was slowing down, her body started to convulse and spasm as her muscles rebelled!  Several times she nearly lost her grip on her comb and then it happened!  She missed with a strike into the wall and tumbled downward her face falling into the mire, but somehow, call it instinct, luck, she managed to stab the hair piece into the wall and by sheer force of will and brute strength pulled her face upward and free from the sucking power of the quicksand.  She made slow, painfully slow progress; she knew another attack would be forth coming she just hoped she’d be free by then.

  “The damm walls must have sensors built into them to trigger each attack as I advance,” she cursed.  

 “Time to make a leap of faith Claire, literally!” 

The spy didn’t know what the next sensor activation would bring, but she could only guess the worst, paralysing gas was her thought at the moment.  If that were the case then the mire would claim her without a fight and for Claire that thought alone was enough to inspire her to risk it all!  She was about 7 feet away from the door; a door she could only hope would open if she reached it as she positioned her body for action.

Slowly she began to arch her torso back and forth using the walls to resist the springing and tensing of her body as she quickly built up momentum.  One final massive arch of her body coiled the spring to the point of release and she leapt, turning her body in mid air, just like the tigress she was, her feet hit the wall that until just the merest of seconds ago her hands had occupied.  She transferred that energy and pushed off as best she could, stretching out her frame as she reached for the door and her hoped for freedom.  Her left hand grazed the doorknob, her fingers slipping off the gilded prize and sliding down as her body slipped into the quicksand and its cloying hold.  The desperate panicked raking of her nails on the painted door filled the room as they clawed off bits of paint in their frantic bid to bite and hold her above the mire.  At the last second her right hand slammed the hair combs teeth into the bottom panel of the door and she held on, just barely at first and then slightly more securely as her left hand joined her right.  Her success was short lived as the oatmeal like mixture began to cloy and seep around her, cementing its hold as it pulled her in. 

 The spy felt the growing weight on her lower body as the quicksand pulled her deeper into its inescapable abyss, the force of its sucking downward nature straining her arms around her small hold on freedom.  Claire pulled upward with all she had, the sand releasing her reluctantly, as it’s moans attested to.  Just as soon as the spy pulled up the quicksand countered and sung her down again, each time just as little deeper than the previous upward thrust.  Claire was growing tired, but worse, desperate, a fatal combination, the sand was winning the battle, she could feel its fatal embrace all about her now, her entire body up to her neck was totally absorbed, she had only at best two or three minutes left.  The COIL agent was down to her last gambit, she had to reach that doorknob and she only had one chance at victory, one last summoning of all she had to pull up and clasp freedom.  She drew upward with all she had, screaming to draw as much fight from her body as she could, she reached and reached until her fingers just touched the circular metal knob, she was less than an inch from seizing it, one final thrust got her there, her left hand closed around it.  She didn’t dare turn the handle yet, if the door swung open she’d be lost, she’d lose her grip and sink to her death.  This time her right hand found her left, her muscles strained as she pulled up against the resistance pulling her down.  Her body slick from her laborious attempts to free itself almost caused her grip to falter several times, but somehow she managed to hang on.  “Ok Claire, lets see if all this was for not.”  She turned the handle and breathed a welcomed sigh of relief as the door swung open and she pulled more of herself free from the quicksand until at last she lay on the floor panting for breath and totally spent from her exertions covered in the soupy mire than still even in defeat refused to completely release its hold of her.

After many minutes she dragged herself to her feet and into the kitchen to find a tea towel or cloth of some kind so as to clean herself up a little.  She found the cloth drawer on her first attempt, knowing how anal Pushpa was, it was easy to surmise the location, she even knew exactly where the utensil drawer would be and opened it just to prove it to herself even as she wiped the quicksand from her legs.  Just as she suspected all the spoons, forks and knives were neatly and exactingly arranged, Claire made a telling face before closing the drawer. 

 “Neat Freak!” was all see said before depositing the towel in the sink and leaving the house before anything else befell her.

She hailed a taxi and was soon on her way back to the hotel when her cell phone rang. 

 “Its good to hear your voice to Lady Tara.  No nothing out of the ordinary.  Yes I’m sure, nothing.  Any clues have been removed or never existed at all.  Pushpa was very through in covering her escape.  No, I’d like to keep on trying, I’m not convinced the trail is cold, just yet.  I can’t really be sure why I think that, most likely an equal mixture of a woman and spy’s intuition, but I’m sure I’m on to something I just can’t be sure of what yet.  A what?  A party tomorrow night, yes I’d be very honoured to come.  But are you sure you’re up to it given the circumstances, perhaps it’s not the wisest of plans.  Yes of course, I understand, it’s been in the works for many months and its too late to call it off now.  Go out with bang and all that, as you say.  8pm tomorrow at your place in the country, sure just text me the directions to my cell and I’ll be there.  Tomorrow?  I think I’ll just have a relaxing day and rest up so I can be at my best for you.  See you then, bye.” 

 Claire ended the call and leaned back in thought as the taxi bumped along only lifting out of her musings as it lurched to a stop around the corner from her hotel, just as she’d instructed it to.  The polished beautiful woman who left the hotel that morning was a forgotten memory from the one who walked across the lobby to the lift that evening.   Greeting her in the mirror of her room along with the matted hair stained and soiled clothes were the remnants of quicksand that covered her body from the neck down. She stripped of the clothes and jumped into the shower letting the cool invigorating water clean away the struggles of the day as it cascaded down her soapy body and swirled into the drain, gone like a forgotten bad memory.

Claire dried and threw on a loose fitting and revealing caftan wrap before retrieving her purse, picking up her laptop and depositing her body onto the sofa to do some work.  Taking her sunglasses she placed them in a special docking stand and inserted the cable into the USB port, clicked open a program then waited and watched for the analysis to begin.  Her sunglasses while fashionable were also thanks to COIL’s lab, had very high powered camera’s imbedded into each lens that when called upon could magnify and record far away objects for closer analysis at a later time, while all the while appearing completely innocent to anyone observing her.  As each frame of her circumnavigation of the statue appeared on the screen Claire used the cursor to hi light certain areas and then enhance the picture.  Each frame placed another piece of data into the puzzle until she leaned back and smiled. 

 “Puzzle solved!” she spoke as she closed the laptop a plan already formulating in her mind.

Sanja entered her suite unable to speak, but wishing he could think of something cleaver or cliché spy suave to say to the stunning woman who answered the door.  Instead he became aware again of the growing hardness between his legs as it rubbed against his thigh.  Embarrassed he dashed for a chair and sat down, crossing his legs in the vain hope of covering his erection.  Claire noticed it, not visually, but in the way he walked and moved, but let it pass, it was a compliment of sorts and she decided to accept it in silent gratitude.

            “I just have to finish my makeup and then we can go,” she said her body sliding elegantly into position in front of her vanity.  She had chosen a slinky green sequinned gown with a plunging neck line that tactically covered and supported her full round breasts their symmetry and contours revealed and begging to be touched by desirous hands.  The back seemed to descend forever the line of the material curving in at the last second and coming together just above the beginnings of her ass displaying her delicious shoulders and back again singing to all who would listen that they longed to be touched and caressed.  The dangerously long slit up her left leg ended just short of scandalous but the shapely appendage it revealed was more than enough to convict her in the minds of other less well appointed women, but innocent, but hopefully, not too much, in the eyes of men.  Claire delicately applied her perfume in the valley between her breasts and on her thigh and ankle before just as touch was sprayed into her coifed hair.  Her lipstick rounded out the package; she rose and came towards the frantically uncomfortable Sanja, who was maddeningly trying to appear unaffected but losing ground with each sway of her hips and emergence of her thigh from beneath the captivating dress. 
 “Shall we go,” she smiled offering her arm.  He rose and took it in his in a flash hoping his lightning manoeuvre would mask the protruding bulge and save another lesson from this beautiful woman.
            Lady Tara Ashton-White’s home or to put it more correctly family estate lay within the City of Calcutta, but most definitely was not part of the city.  The mansions that surrounded hers were all remnants of Great Britain’s colonial mastery of over India.  The former homes of English Tea Merchants, Traders and assorted other monopolistic machinations of colonialism were now the home of Indian Tea Merchants and Traders as well as other heads of corporations. 

 “Only the names change,” Claire thought as the car pulled off the road and onto a tree-lined private drive that sloped gently upwards to a large 6 pillared, perfectly balanced all white Georgian mansion.  Sanja veered the car right and around the roundabout coming to a stop at the steps up to the main door where he nipped smartly out of the car around the front and opened the door his nervous somewhat clammy hand extended to help the spy out of the car.

            Claire gracefully exited the sedan and floated up the five or six steps through the front door and into an entirely different world.  A spectacular domed rotunda reception room with white and black polished marble floor tiles, teak panelled walls and above that fresco’s painted up to the top of the stained glass covered dome backlit to display its superior craftsmanship and breathtaking beauty.  Roman columns capped by an ornately carved arch depicting Romulas and Reamus the founders of Rome guarded the entrance to the main room.  Claire passed under and it the large room much too lavish too even try and describe properly.  Filled with a mixture of modern and ancient Indian furniture cleverly arranged to create intimate groups about the large expanse, allowing for groups of people to splinter off an enjoy each others company in a setting more conducive to conversation. This room also boasted ornate wall paintings, mostly of Gods and animals from Indian culture and mythology.  A large assemblage of people milled about as Claire made her way to the bar and ordered a mineral water with a twist of lime before returning to the party and mingling keeping conversation about herself and position in life as vague as possible until out of the corner of her eye she spotted Lady Tara coming towards her.  The former spy dazzled in her black strapless dress as she parted the sea of her male admirers and female competitors on her way to greet her friend.  Accentuated with pearls and diamonds, all tastefully understated; only pushed the finished product to the levels of Hellenic beauty.

 “Claire, welcome to my home,” Lady Tara said greeting her friend with a kiss on the cheek which Claire returned. 

 “Everyone,” Lady Tara said to those assembled around them.  “This is my good friend and accomplished art historian Claire Baxter.” 

 The COIL agent was introduced to the individual guests by her host and the small talk started up again, Claire having more than the usual attention lavished upon her by virtue of her special introduction.

 “How far do you and Lady Tara go back Miss Baxter?” a gentleman in their group asked.

 “Her Ladyship and I,” Claire began to answer before being cut off.

 “Claire how many times have I told you just call me Tara,” came the answer before the woman continued.  “Claire and I met several years ago at the Victoria and Albert Museum.  She was giving a lecture on early Etruscan Pottery and as you know Phillip I happen to be quite a keen collector.  I lingered after the lecture, I suppose I asked a few intelligent questions and we’ve been friends ever since.  We don’t get to see each other as much as we’d like so these times we share together are special for us.  And I’m sorry but on that note I must purloin Claire from your wonderful company, we have so much to catch up on.  But don’t despair I shall return her shortly.”   Lady Tara led Claire through the throng of people down a small corridor and into her private office closing the door behind them.

            “Early Etruscan Pottery!?” Claire said with a smile.

 “Best I could do on such short notice.  Besides Phillip’s idea of art is Andy Warhol and Campbell’s Tomato Soup Cans,” she said with a smile and a small laugh.  “Any news on the elusive Pushpa?”

 “I’m making very slow progress, but I think I may have something very soon.  I just hope it is enough to right the wrong that’s been done here,” Claire said her tone firm and set.

            “I appreciate all you’ve been doing to help me out, even if it only clears away the incompetence allegation I’m facing, my position as Director is I’m afraid lost.”

 “You keep forgetting Tara that the Eye of Lapha is my mission objective and I’m taking this just as personally as you are,” Claire sternly toned.  “We’re in this together, for better or worse.”

 Lady Tara smiled at her earnest young guest and she knew deep down that this woman would succeed.  They talked for a little while longer then Lady Tara looked at the large Grandfather Clock in the corner of her office.   “Come on we’d better get back to the party or people will begin to talk about us.  Forget about the Eye for tonight and enjoy yourself.”  The aristocrat led the agent back out into the din of the gathering and made the rounds with Claire making sure she met everybody and they all knew of her friendship with so distinguished a person as Lady Tara.

 Claire talked and innocently flirted the night away having a good time until finally about midnight she reluctantly said goodbye to her host and left with Sanja for the trip back to her hotel.  He escorted her up to her room his eyes saying what his lips wished they could.  Claire unlocked her door turned around and said goodnight slowly closing the door before her could muster the courage to ask himself in.  Sanja could feel the swelling leave his pants as the door closed replaced by a sick acidic feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.

 “Sanja, I’m sorry,” Claire’s voice called out softly between a crack in the door.

 “Sorry for what Miss?” he said, forgetting she didn’t like to be called that.

            “I’ve neglected you all night, not even one dance.  Come on in for a few minutes and lets talk,” Claire said tenderly as she opened her door wide to let him in then closed it right after and theatrically snapped the lock in place with a smile as Sanja looked back. 

 Claire picked up the remote for the stereo and switched on some soft music; Sanja swallowed hard as he sought a distraction and found it by offering to make Claire a drink. 

 “Alcohol goes right to my hips and there are other so much more pleasurable things I’d rather place there,” she purred. 

 “This music is wonderful would you like to dance,” she cooed taking his hands and leading him out from behind the bar.  “Don’t be nervous or anxious let what happens happen.  If it helps consider this a field lesson, pretend I’m an enemy agent trying to seduce you into telling me something I need to know to complete my mission.  Your job is to enjoy yourself while not losing control of either your mind or body,” Claire said emphasising the body as she pushed in against his rock hard manhood.

  “Its just a dance treat it like one.  Yes, you can enjoy the fact I’m a beautiful, sensuous, provocative woman,” she said with a wry smile.   But always remember I’m the enemy.  When I move in closer, like this,” Claire said as her hips melted tightly into his pelvis and circled magically a few times around his still granite obelisk you only have a split second to react and pull away before I have you under my spell for good.  Understand?”  Sanja nodded in a dazed robotic fashion, but he didn’t back away.

 “Likewise if I tighten my arms around your neck or draw closer to your cheek or run my fingers through your hair you need to react quickly or risk being entangle in my charms.  And above all get this under control,” Claire said rubbing herself against his erection again.  “Nothing tells a woman faster that she’s succeeding than seeing and feeling that.  Lead with the brain God gave you not the one puberty bestowed upon you!  Ready to try again Sanja?” she said in an encouraging voice.

 Yes, Claire,” he said somewhat uncertainly.

 They danced a little apart at first, smiling at each other and saying a few words as a normal dancing couple would do mostly foolish small talk on a variety of subjects.  Sanja relaxed and felt his erection dissipating until it was gone and he was enjoying himself.  Claire crept incrementally closer with her body until she’d evaporated the daylight between them all the while talking and holding his eyes with hers.  Artfully Claire slunk her left arm from its resting-place on Sanja’s shoulder up to his ear and ever so lightly began to trace her fingertip around its edges.  He upped the tempo just slight using a quick sharp unexpected turn to dislodge her attack and force her arm to secure to his shoulder once more enabling her to make the turn gracefully, as if it was natural and expected.  Claire smiled her approval, disarming him to her hips that swam into his in a counterattack.  The female spy thought she had him, but at the very last possible second he let go of her waist and spun her away from him with his other arm then pulled her back to him stiffing his once extended arm to keep daylight between them.

            “That one almost had me Claire,” he smiled in triumph.

 “You’re a very fast and good learner Sanja, my love,” she whispered breathlessly as they continued the dance. 

 It was either the woman or the dress or both plus a combination of other factors that eventually worked for before he knew it Sanja was holding Claire dangerously close.  She had him under her spell before he realised it as disappoint and frustration overcame him and he stopped dancing in disgust with himself. 

 “You did wonderfully well for a first time Sanja, don’t be disappointed.  If its any consolation at all it took a great deal of time and you’re truly a very good dancer,” Claire said in a sincere effort to mollify him.

            “Let’s try again,” he offered hoping to redeem his wounded pride as he held out his hand to her.

 “I have a better idea lets take a break and try again later,” she said taking his hand and deftly guiding it around her waist as she drew into him.

 “Is this another test?” the young agent answered very nervously.

            “No, this is just you and me and the moment,” Claire said as she kissed his lips lightly and pressed her body hard against his the force of his arms holding her there as she moistened his neck with passionate hungry lips until they found his mouth, parted it and probed inside her tongue afire against his, her body squirming against his within his embrace. 
 Claire return to his neck, her hot tongue ravaging his ear until she slipped his embrace and worked her way around to his back driving him mad with desire for her!  Her hands expertly undid his belt and pants, seconds later closing around his enflamed cock and stroking his immense shaft until she could feel it quiver in her hands.  She continued her circumference of his body until she returned to face him, removed his bow tie, took off his cummerbund and tantalisingly slowly undid the buttons to his shirt, one by one to reveal his muscled flat stomach that she kissed upward before meeting his lips once more.  Sanja unhooked the clasp of the dress and let in fall from her.  The slinky sequinned sensation cascade down her body like waves upon the water coming to rest at her feet as Claire stepped out of it and her heels and into his arms her body free to join his.  She wasted no time relieving him of his remaining garments.  Sanja tenderly stroked her nipples, already hard and expecting until she took his hands in her hers and slid them around her ass indicating what she wanted him to do.
            Her velveteen legs slithered around his waist crossed hind his back and locked in place while her arms circled his neck and their lips wetted each others passions a few more times before Claire rocked her pelvis back and forth securing his monument into position.  Sanja tried to push inside quickly, voracious to slake his desire, Claire arched backward teasing him just enough to encourage more thrusts, but never enough to damage is yearning until she straddled his tip, calming his undulations and sending him a wordless signal of her intentions.  She oscillated around his exposed penis, dancing him in to her, letting him feel her warmth as she slowly captured, surrounded and consumed him, her delicious heat and moisture filling him up, until she enveloped his stem completely.  Claire clung tight to him has he rocked and thrust deep into her, her hips drawing him in and out as they worked to orgasm.  His hands clamped around her hard ass conducted it in a symphony of delight as he came, very quickly, as Claire had expected, her arms turning tight about his neck as her hands swept down his lean muscular back tenderly stroking and caressing him.  His movements were reduced the insistent plunges as he pushed into her pleasure running wild through him as Claire masterfully worked his orgasm for him drawing out his delirium and bring herself closer with each ram of his marble hardness into her until she came.  Sanja picked up the pace and rhythm as she reclined arching her back outward hanging on to his neck by her fingertips and driving her hips in and out moaning in excessive pleasure.  She pulled tight against him again and enjoyed the last of the spasms that shook her body, Sanja feeling them around his cock as she pulsed around his shaft.  Her joy settled and she when limp in his arms, both there breathing heavy from their exertions.  Claire undid her legs and slid off him her lips finding his as she led him to the bedroom, neither of their thirsts quenched.

 Hands ran everywhere as the two explored each other in the ethereal light beside the bed, each busy kissing and touching each other, excited in the act and wanting more.  Claire was the first to indicate she was ready, lowering herself to a sitting position on the bed; she brought him hard again with ease.  Peering up his chest with warm brown eyes she smiled a self-satisfied look which he returned before lowering himself to her.  Amidst a tangle of limbs they pulled themselves to the middle of the bed, lay still, save for the sound of their lips upon each other, for several minutes until she rolled him over and pressed her warm body to his.  He thirsted for her again, incessantly trying to position her for impalement upon his stiff member.  Claire smiled, let him come close and then captured his rod between her thighs and closed gently around it rocking and rolling it lovingly in her soft skin, keeping it hard and him excited until the time was right.   She wanted a little more build up and he taking the queue obliged with nibbles to her neck and shoulders until she pushed up and his mouth closed around one of her nipples.  His hot tongue and exotic technique sending sparks of light shooting across the insides of her closed eyes her pleasure only magnified as he fingered her other nipple in a delicate fondle.  Claire gave Sanja a final breathtaking kiss and then released his throbbing root as she straddled him and positioned herself above him.  Her mound brushing lightly against his stem until she drove down around him, collapsing her self about his engorged manhood, sealing him in her embrace as she closed around him, her prisoner at last!

            Sanja’s hands neatly fell about her hips as she rocked him slowly, mesmerizingly at first, but then much faster.  She pulled along his massive swollen cock, drawing almost to the tip before returning down the shaft with the furious thrust of her hips, twisting his body in glory beneath her.  Her hands found his and she expertly led them to her breasts showing him what she wanted as she guided them as to the motion which he took up upon their departure.  Her breath started to get shorter and shorter until she repositioned his hands back to her hips as she came seconds later, Sanja pulling and rocking her hard, his stem firing into her like a piston, each drive upward convulsing her in his arms, her shouts filling the room as she twisted her hips around his steel pole.   Claire squirmed to his ministrations of joy, her body lost in his as he worked her orgasm to incredible heights, pushing her body to the limits of pleasure, his magnificently hard cock finding every pleasure receiver she had and overloading it with his skill.  Claire arched back her body thundering under his attack, her screams of joy unable to dilute the intensity she was feeling, instead she found more as he edged even deeper into her, her hips wild in his arms a final tremor took her totally washing over everything, flooding her with joy and sweeping her away.  She slowed for a few seconds, found her pacing and then attacked intent upon giving him the joy that she had just experienced.
            Claire worked him to orgasm slowly, hips swimming around him in varied motions, letting him feel her from all sides, each one more delicious than the last.  She could feel him twitching inside her; still she built it slowly, her hips working cautiously, as she felt him within her.  Tender, subtle turns quivered him; gentle sways tensed him further along as she worked her magic about his entrapped manhood.  He tried to induce the pace with his hands upon her hips but the woman pulled them away to her lips and kissed then lovingly before returning them to the bed, her intentions made known.

 He was trapped in her torturous embrace and he had no intention of escaping.  This woman was magic; everything he’d hoped for, everything he’d been told about her skill was true.   His body wanted to explode, but she wouldn’t light the fuse, not yet.  Her motion was unbelievable, every inch of his cock was tuned to her touch, and she seemed able to caress every inch of his shaft at will.  His body screamed for release and she sensing it freed him seconds later.  His volcanic explosion laved his entire body in joy, burying everything else under its flowing unending lava as it seeped and poured into every crevice of him.  Wave after wave of flow poured from him as this sorceress worked her spell on him and pulled his molten passion from him, taking it for herself.  His dazed body felt her hips crash endlessly into him as he spewed forth in uncontrollable ecstasy, his body quaking from the eruption.  Still she could not be satiated until all his joy had been extracted; she twisted herself about him finding new deposits of pleasure for him.  Sending his head turning side to side as her succulent hips pushed into him, slowly out and then in again until he stopped his gyrations and lay still, she coming to rest on top of him with a final kiss.

Claire sat at her dressing table causally brushing her hair and watching Sanja through the mirror put his clothes back on, she having already slipped into her caftan. 

 “I’ve been wondering when you’d make your move?   I thought, would he make it before the party or would he wait until after?  Speaking for myself I’m glad you choose after, but now we come to this,” Claire stated as she swivelled in her chair to face Sanja and the gun he had pointed at her from the edge of the bed about 5 feet away. 

 “You will however find it difficult to kill me without this,” Claire smiled as she held up the magazine to his gun.  “I’m disarming in more ways than one!”

 Sanja was clearly flustered at this sudden turn of events and more so with his apparent transparency as an enemy agent.  “How did you know?” he asked in annoyance, partly out of curiosity and partly to stall for time to plan his next move.

 “Several things, first you knew it was bookstore even though I never told what kind of store it was as well you described what the place looked like from the outside?  Second, you picked me up tonight here, how did you know where to find me, since I never told anyone I’d changed hotels?”

 “I never expected you to survive the first trap, as for tonight, that was an error in judgement however no matter.  I’ll just have to kill you another way, I regret not as fast, but the result is the same in the end,” he said rising from the bed and advancing on her.

            Claire smiled; let him get to within about 3 feet of her before she turned the handle of her brush activating her trap.  Sanja’s entire body shook in one massive series of convulsions, twisting horribly in several directions at once before calming and then falling first to his knees and then completely to the floor before her feet!  She placed her brush on the vanity and knelt down beside him gently stroking his hair before giving him a light kiss to his non-responsive lips.
            “Sometimes a woman’s dress can be just as deadly as she is!” she whispered to him.  “Each sequin on my dress contains a microscopic electrical amplification device which in turn has been fitted with a tiny barb that attaches to anything it comes into close contact with.  Your tuxedo is literally coated in thousands of them after our dance lesson and my seduction of you!  All that remained was for me to activate the charge by turning the handle on the remote control, namely my hairbrush, stunning you into submission.  The damage to your muscular and neurological systems is not permanent but the effects take at least 24 hours to where off, until then here you lie!”

 Claire stripped off her caftan opened her dresser and pulled out her cat suit.  Its clinging material closed around her body as she pulled it about her creating a second skin.  She rummaged through Sanja’s pockets, found the car keys and as gone in a manner of minutes.

 The drive to the shrine did not take long.  Claire turned off the car’s lights well before she was close to the mansion and just to be sure she parked down the street and proceeded on foot towards her goal, The Statute of Shiva she had visited earlier.  Her lithe body danced across the formal lawn and into the shadowy blackness of some trees, her body hugging the trunk of a mahogany for cover.  She darted forward again and pressed herself up against the corner of the house and looked around the corner for her next rendezvous point all the while keeping a watchful lookout for the guard.  She spotted him out of the corner of her eye as he moved into a moonbeam of light; she needed to remove him from the scene, but only temporarily.  He turned and headed back the other way as she moved into position to strike when he came by again which he did like clockwork 2 minutes later.  Claire uncoiled from the shadows, her arms around him and he unconscious instantaneously as the spy pinched several nerves in rapid sequence before gently lowering him to the path.

 The COIL agent advanced on the now unguarded goddess and went to work.  Claire recreated the sequence she’d deciphered from her analysis positioning and repositioning her fingers to various parts of the statue until the procedure was complete then she stepped back and watched.   Whisper quite and liquid in its movement the statue tilted to the left and rolled downward disappearing into the ground as a mirror image of the same statue rolled up from the right side and into place as if it had never moved!  They were identical save for one small but extremely significant detail; this statue contained the Eye!  Claire smiled, she took the eye from its resting-place and pressed in tightly into her hand, she had the prize!  Her triumph was however short lived as she felt the unmistakable touch of a cold steel barrel against the back of her neck!

 “I was beginning to wonder when you’d finally reveal yourself!” Claire spoke in a victorious tone despite the present situation.

            “I only needed you to act for me to do also.  Once you retrieved the stone I would kill you and recover it for my true employer, you would simply be another agent who heroically, but tragically, like so many others before you died in the line of duty.  The complete irony is that you in fact were the one responsible for its loss and yet you’re a hero and an innocent woman takes all the blame for the rest of her life.  I couldn’t have asked for a better-scripted result.  You Claire Baxter came along at precisely the right moment a fact of which I will be forever grateful.”
            “Glad I could be of help,” Claire said sarcastically.  “How did you know I’d be here tonight, I told nobody of my plans!”

 “A kiss never dies Claire, especially when the lipstick is coated with a weak radioactive isotope that can be tracked.”

 Claire winced at her mistake.  “Just one thing, why?”

 “You’re really so very cleaver you tell me and then tell me you wouldn’t do exactly the same thing.”

 Claire swallowed hard; she knew the answer all right. 

 “Because, who are they to tell you when its time to quit.  They give you a whole new life and a world you never knew imagined and let you loose to play in it.  Your scared and nervous but slowly you find you like this world, the power you have in it and more importantly that you’re good at your job.  The danger, intrigue, romance its like a constant heroin rush, they get you hooked, until suddenly one day you come to realise it’s the drug your chasing and not the lofty goals they told you about in training and you know what you don’t care anymore.  You want the drug and if you have to do the other to have the drug, well that’s just a by-product you have to put up with.  Then when you’re good and hooked they tell you, sorry its over, your career done, here sit behind this desk and watch the next pretty face get the candy that should still be yours!”

            “Cleaver girl.  I still want that drug Claire and I don’t care where or who I get it from!  I’d ask you to join us but I already know the answer.  You and I are so alike in many ways Claire, except in one crucial area.  You still believe in the cause they told you you were fighting for, I learned that was a lie a long time ago.  Now it’s my turn to ask you the question.  How did you come to suspect me?”
            “Right after you came too from the drug and we started to talk.  You mentioned I was probably tired from the day I’d had.  How could you have known what I’d been through? Since the lipstick was loaded I assume also the tea we shared, that’s how you tracked me to my new hotel.  That was also how you timed the close administration of the drug that nearly killed you.  Tracking me and knowing I’d come to your office after looking for the woman I suspected of betrayal you timed it perfectly to coincide with her disappearance and my appearance”
            “Yes, you really are exceptional, the tea had almost worn off so I needed to give you another dose and since we’d become such good friends I knew you’d take no notice of such an innocuous gesture on my part and I was right!  But please do continue.”

 “Pushpa’s office was next, for a woman of her meticulous personality she left one drawer open on her desk.  That was out of place indicating to me she hadn’t done it, also at the house you sent me too in her kitchen all the utensils face one way except the spoons, which faced another.  Again out of place for her character so I knew it couldn’t have been her home.  The last piece was that you called me an Art Historian, to know that you’d have had to see my file, which you said Pushpa never let you see.”

 “Agatha Christie has nothing on you Claire, except one thing her heroines always escaped.  Please open your hand slowly and pass me the jewel. 

 There’s a good girl,” Lady Tara Ashton-White said as she slipped the aquamarine into her pocket.  “This will bring a good price when we sell it back to DOOM.  I don’t regret killing you Claire, but I do regret that we never had the chance to face each other, the struggle would be interesting.”

            Claire felt the gun barrel withdraw from her neck just a touch, but she could still sense its presence until she felt a dull thud slam into the back of her head.  She turned, saw Lady Tara smile evilly at her, felt time slow and imagines distort as the ground fell away beneath her.  She looked up at the clear cloudless sky and watched the stars grow fainter and fainter.
 
 *  *  *  *  *  *

 It took a while to focus the face bent over her and even when she did she couldn’t recognise or place it.  The woman’s shiny black silky hair was done up ornately with flowers holding it in place and a sheer purple headscarf covering it.  A few long loose strands fell about Claire’s cheek, their softness welcome to the touch and their scented bouquet delightful to inhale.  Still Claire did not know this woman or the place she was in as she managed to observe a small portion of her surroundings.  A warm inviting highly feminine room, a fine silk sheet covered her and incense burned nearby.  She spotted a dressing table of classic Indian design adorned with jars and bottles of fine creams and perfumes as well as ornately decorated sandalwood combs.  The four poster bed she was lying in had intricately carved erotic scenes from the Kama Sutra including all the sexual positions available as well as a beautiful hand painted silk canopy of flowers and tree’s.  Claire returned to the woman who smiled warmly at her as she delicately massaged Claire’s left thigh a fact heretofore Claire had failed to notice, the woman’s touch being so light.

            “Pushpa?” Claire said unbelievingly.
            “Yes, my dear,” the woman said softly as she stopped the massage and moved up the edge of the bed to be closer.  She could see Claire was lost and getting excited and perhaps nervous.  She tenderly placed her hands on Claire’s shoulders and eased her back down into the bed with a reassuring smile.  “I will explain everything Claire, but please rest, your body needs it, you’ve been unconscious and fighting for your life for 3 days.

 “You see I am not a traitor, nor may I add a woman of bland fashion or taste as I presented myself to be.  I have been out in the cold, so to speak for so long; I almost became the person I played.  I was recruited by COIL secretly to act as Lady Tara’s bodyguard and well to be frank, to spy on her, COIL was never really sure about her encounter with SNARE, so I was put in place just in case.  Seven years I played the dull all business administrator to her flamboyant beautiful self, which she is and much more.  My intuition always told me she was waiting and planning for something, but unfortunately intuition does usually not reveal the truth until it is too late, or fortunately in this case almost too late.  She and that devious secretary of hers, Usha, must have somehow discovered what I really was, but they needed a reason to get rid of me and you and the Eye provided the perfect scenario.  Somehow Lady Tara discovered that the Eye contained part of the computer chip design, I don’t quite know how, but I suspect, since she moved in fairly high circles, as did Mr. Gupta, the owner of the Eye, they must have met at some function.  He probably mentioned something about it that caught her attention, because she started asking me casual questions about it that just seemed out of place to my suspicious mind at any rate,” Pushpa said with a warm smile before picking up the thread of the conversation again.

 “I paid a visited to the stone late one night and discovered the lines using a high intensity light filter.  I knew I had to act quickly or risk losing the stone to Lady Tara.  Your discovery of the upside down duplicate statue was the culmination of the trick employed by a small trusted team of experts I had assembled.  Hide the Eye in the last place anybody would think to look, the very place it should be.”

            “Why not just remove the Eye and send it to COIL HQ in the first place?” Claire asked.

 “I could have done that yes, but that would have left Lady Tara still buried as a mole and me with no real proof of it.  I needed to force her hand and then you came along!  Please forgive me Claire I didn’t mean for it to turn out the way it did.  You were supposed to meet the real Seema that day and she was going to explain all I couldn’t in the office, but things went terribly wrong after you left.  Somehow Lady Tara discovered my plan and called me to her office ostensibly to talk about our field agent numbers, that’s when Usha pricked me with the tip of her pen, injecting me with a sleeping drug.  Then I assume she and Lady Tara and others they had recruited went into action.”

            Claire’s eyes went wide went she heard this until Pushpa patted her gently on the shoulder.  “They have all been captured and that includes Sanja so relax my dear.  They cleaned out my office, making it look like I was the traitor that everybody thought I was, except for you.  So tell me how did you know it wasn’t me?”  Pushpa inquired with her usual smile the lit up her face making her even more beautiful and exotic than she already was.

Claire reiterated all that had happened with Lady Tara that night Pushpa nodding at the deductive power of the woman before Claire came to her next question.  “What did they do with and to you once they removed you from the office and how did you escape?”

            “Of course they wanted me to reveal the location of the Eye, but while Lady Tara and Usha may have discovered who and what I truly was they had no idea as to extent of my skills and training.  I was able to resist them, just barely, both have formidable skills, they nearly broke me in the end; Usha in particular, was extremely effective.  But once again you came to my aid just in time.  I overheard Usha talking on the phone the night of the party to Lady Tara.  When she returned to me she said they had no more use of me and Lady Tara had ordered her to kill me because they would have the stone that evening.  Usha went to work on me but got sloppy, thinking she had worn me down enough, I made her pay..with her life.”

 How?” Claire wanted to know fascinated by the woman she thought she knew before, but was now only really truly learning about.

 “I believe you and I are sisters of a sort,” Pushpa smiled as Claire looked on quizzically.  “We both have the same mother when it comes to Yoga.  Indira Ramesh.  After our battle I knew where I could find you I just hoped it wouldn’t be too late and it almost was.  When I got there Lady Tara and the Eye were gone and you were laying on the ground unconscious with a dart imbedded in the base of your neck,”

 Claire swallowed hard but she had to know.  “How far away from death was I when you found me?”

 Now it was Pushpa’s who found it hard to speak.  “You never would have died Claire.”

            “I don’t understand?”
 
            “The poison she shot you with was designed to cripple you, attack and destroy your muscles, wasting them away leaving you fully alive mentally but helpless physically.  The effects are much the same as those who suffer from A.L.S.  She wanted to kill you by keeping you alive, giving you the fate you fear more than anything!  But she didn’t count on me escaping, finding you or in my knowledge of poisons and their antidotes.  She may have got the Eye, but COIL got the real prize,” Pushpa said as she looked at Claire.
            “I think COIL can have both,” Claire smiled as she brought her right hand over to her left wrist and pulled free a clear plastic skin like film from her palm and passed it to Pushpa who was beaming a smile to match Claire’s.  The film had picked up the etched lines of the Eye perfectly, just as they were designed to do.  “If you can’t have the original, a copy should do just as well don’t you think?” Claire stated happily.
            Claire was back to normal within a week, Pushpa never leaving her side during that time.  She learned that the fake Seema had escaped her Thugee Knot.   Lady Tara Ashton-White had also successfully evaded capture; Claire had expected nothing less of the former COIL agent.  The whole unpleasant mess was swept under the rug by the mutual agreement of all parties involved, most notably the British and Indian Governments and of course COIL.  The only positive from the fiasco was the appointment of Pushpa as Head of COIL for the Indian Sub-Continent.
            “You’ve made two new enemies, one in Seema, whom I sure you can handle and the other in Lady Tara.  If you ever meet her again Claire kill her quickly, don’t allow her a second chance, she won’t give you one.  My pledge to you, my sister, is the same, if I ever meet her, she won’t survive the encounter!” Pushpa said as they talked over afternoon tea in Pushpa’s lovely garden.   “When are you leaving for Bangkok?”
            “I’m taking the early morning flight I have a business meeting set up for later that morning with a DOOM controlled company.”

 “Excellent then you have time to join me in a Yoga workout,” Pushpa said as she rose from the table and moved to the centre of the room and smiled back at the still sitting spy.

            “I’ve been down this road once before it seems,” Claire slyly said.

 “Then you should know the way!” Pushpa said as she undid her Sari.
 

     THE END