1.
To say it was a tradition or even a custom would have been wrong, but it did happen. Mixed team
assignments, whether posing as a husband/wife, dating couple or a business team required a certain
amount of togetherness to make the charade convincing. At times, more than usual this would lead to
an actual closeness during but always at the conclusion of a mission, an added perk.
‘Well there’s always a first time,’ Roz Downing told herself as she lay in bed next to her partner. ‘At least the mission was a success, the rest would have been a nice bonus. Next mission.’
It had all gone according to plan. Their May/September romance had been perfectly played. It gave her access to the Intel while he caught the eye of the much younger enemy agent. He had even turned the tables on her, an action that Roz found stimulating as it made him agent that could be counted on to be deadly with the opposite sex and not the other way around as was usually the experience. They should be celebrating together, in the best possible way, but here she was on her side and he turned away from her on his side, the space between them just a few inches, but for Roz it might as well have been a mile, a very cold mile.
‘I wore this nightgown, picked out special for him. Did my hair and even gave him a scent I’d never worn before. Sent all the right signals and yet here I am. What went wrong?’
Roz relived her plan to see if there were any flaws in it or crossed signals, she could find none. She approached it from every angle until she finally had to come to the conclusion she didn’t want to.
‘Maybe you don’t have it anymore Roz? After all, you weren’t really ever the lead on this mission, Eric was, you were just along so you could be dumped.’
The moment of ugly realisation came to her, her career as a “go to” agent, may be over. She pondered it for a moment. Every female agent knows it's coming, someday. They all, Roz now included herself in this club, think it will always be another day, in spite of seeing it happen to your peers. Some accepted it gracefully, becoming mentors and trainers, others, just disappeared in the world.
‘The boring everyday world,’ she added.
She couldn’t do that. Her career had been way too action packed. She’d done her share of training and mentoring new agents, but always as an active top agent, never as a retired “old broad” she couldn’t do that or play second fiddle on missions like this one. That would be akin to a living death. She resolved to clear up her status the minute they returned, which thankfully was tomorrow. Now all she had to do was get through the night. She felt him stir in his sleep and turn towards her, she turned away and faced the wall.
Roz lifted her hips to free a few tresses of her nightgown that had been pinched as she turned. Her hand tried to sweep them loose with a quick jerk, annoyed that yet another thing had not worked in her favour that even. Her hand flew off the pinched material with the force she applied, making even more upset. She attempted to free herself again, her arm flinging itself down on the mattress then going still as the tips of a finger detected something. He rolled back over to face his wall, she rolled toward him.
‘If you need to use the bathroom, I understand. Otherwise you and I need to talk,’ she said in a whisper, turning over.
There was a short silent interlude, to both it seemed like an eternity before he spoke, but he kept his back to her.
‘I took this mission not knowing at the time who my partner was going to be. It appeared I fit into multiple profiles, depending on how they wanted to structure the mission, although I didn’t know that at the time. A week later the mission spec’s had been finalised and I found out you were my partner, but the mission was delayed as you were still completing a mission. I poured over the details again and again and worked out constantly to relieve the building tension,’ he said and then paused, took a deep breath and turned over to face her. She noticed he kept a distance between them and put his right leg over his left under the sheets.
‘I’ve only been an active agent for a little more than a year, so when I found out Roz Downing was my partner I panicked, your reputation is legendary in FORCE and well among male agents.’
‘Oh, I’m hearing the Bull Ring,’ Roz said smiling. ‘Yes, I should say, we, and by that I mean female agents, know all about the workout talk in your gym. Frankly, I’ve always been in favour of one gym for everyone, it's not like we have a need to be modest and it would cut down on this type of thing. You guys are the worst on the gossip front, although I suspect it's really bragging of triumphs, real or perceived or the covering up of failed attempts. Let me guess in your case, hard to please in bed, demanding, seizing control, not a team player, code talk for a cold fish and many others not so complimentary things. Most of those comments come out of failure on a mission or just plain no compatibility, its does happen, two agents just don’t mesh, having sex isn’t going to fix that, no matter what and frankly why would you even want to at that point, just get the mission over and move on. Rejection is hard, no matter the sex, age or size of the agent. I’m dealing with a bit of that myself right now to be honest,’ she concluded.
‘That was never my or the mission's intention. You backed off so I thought you wanted me to take the lead, you know, to push me, give me the experience. I was told that I need to be more aggressive to be considered for more upgraded assignments, to focus on the mission and distractions. I think that’s why they picked you, your reputation for being a distraction. I thought all the looks, clothes and then the nightgown this evening was all part of the test,’ Eric said.
‘Well, there was no test, but thank you,’ Roz smiled, leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips.
‘For what,’ he asked, relieved to have told her the truth but still confused.
‘No more taking,’ she softly breathed as her arms slipped about his neck and she pulled him on top of her. He settled into her welcoming body, she squirmed about forming a groove he settled into as they kissed, his bugle very apparent as it pressed against her, imbedded in the caress of her silk nightgown.
2.
‘’It’s not always exotic locations, fantastic sex and saving the world, sometimes its actual work that could involve torture, like these heels,’ Roz Downing said to herself as she slipped the aforementioned on and looked at herself in the mirror. ‘And dull parties livened only by acquiring certain items. But if you're going to do something, do it in style.’ a look and a nod to the mirror confirmed she did just that.
The party was at the estate of Countessa Francesca Colleta. Spanish by birth, title by marrying an Italian, widow, well there were many explanations, all of which involved her as suspect, but none could be proven. She was rich, attractive and had an extensive art collection, many of dubious purchase. FORCE has obtained intelligence that she had a list of contacts that may be of use, Roz’s job was to get it.
She arrived in style, as usual, her Porsche 911 hugging the sharp turn just inside the gated arch to stop in front of the portico. An attendant smartly came over and opened the door, a hand extending to take hers. She smiled at him, elegantly exiting the low car with her usual grace. A passing look ensured she had him and her car would be taken care of, that confirmed as it pulled away slowly to be parked.
Roz entered the home, the foyer, as she expected, Italian marble floor, dark teak panelled walls and a series of three impressive crystal chandeliers overhead. Inside the open interior glass doors people milled about, men in tuxedo’s women in assorted evening garb, the confident ones in dresses that suited their age and size the not so confident ones in outfits that accentuate more the errors than any positives they may have been hoping for.
The Spy took a drink from a passing waiter's tray and milled about the room, her eyes searching for where she likely needed to go, in between she attracted and talked moving from one small gathering to another as she world herself across the room, into another and about until she found where she needed to go.
‘Now for the access pass,’ she said moving toward a man who was obviously security and not catering staff. ‘He just has that look,’ she smiled.
‘Excuse me but I’ve had my pearl bracelet either fall off or been taken, I can’t be sure which. I need to speak to whomever is in charge of security,’ she said in a concerned yet forceful manner than toned no nonsense in response.
He did as she expected, guests always come first and a scene is not what anyone wants. Roz played her part quietly explaining the situation to him as she inched closer and lowered her voice. Her etiquette in the situation was perfect and appreciated as he smiled at her and promised to locate it telling his subordinate to inform several of his colleagues milling about to begin a discreet look for it and suspicious people. She thanked him with a gentle touch of one hand on his wrist while her other hand relieved him of his passcard.
While the security detail busied themselves Roz introduced herself to the host and made small talk, just the two of them at first but soon they attracted a pack of curling males.
‘You certainly know how to draw a crowd Miss Downing,’ the Countess smiled as she turned about a little, her body away from their admirers, Roz did the same.
‘You and I do, but thank you for the compliment,’ Roz answered.
‘Just so we don’t get our signals crossed, which one do you fancy?’ the Countess asked, moving herself even closer to Roz to whisper in her ear.
‘I’ve always been partial to Armani, grey Armani,’ Roz said. ‘But if you wanted to share, I wouldn't be adverse to that. Sometimes it's interesting to see if these stallions can really do the distance.’
They both smiled and parted company, both experienced women easily losing their respective pursuant hunters for the time being. The Countess found other distractions amongst her guests while Roz used the passcard and slipped into the room unnoticed.
The room was the Countesses private study, marble floors and decorative alabaster walls, a curious column of Ionic pillars formed a circle off on the far side of the room, and there out in the open on the desk was her laptop. Roz made herself at home behind the desk, opened the computer, then reached down, took hold of the heel on one of her shoes, twisted and removed it. A twist of the point ejected the USB coupling that she inserted into the device. The password code breaker began instantly and much to her surprise it broke the code in quickly, she was in. Manicured fingers flashed quickly and searched and found what she was looking for. The second program in the USB gathered and sent the information. Completed, she re-attached her heel and prepared to leave, straightening her dress when the door opened.
‘Usually my guests take advantage of my hospitality in other ways, bedrooms, liquor, that sort of thing. Don’t bother Miss Downing, all the exits are covered, my staff are very good,’ the Countess smiled.
‘Then I’ll just leave by the one you came in from,’ Roz smiled then adjusted her dress again as it didn’t
feel quite right.
‘You can adjust your outfit all you want Miss Downing what you feel isn’t the dress but my Scorpion Charm. I attached it to your dress when we were talking,’ the Countess smiled as she touched one of her earrings. ‘And now it’s stung you. The venom is instantly paralysing,’ she smiled walking over and pulling it off of the spy’s back and reattaching it to her bracelet.
The Countess went to the door and motioned, two security guards came in and took the frozen woman to the centre of the pillars. The Countess moved from pillar to pillar detaching and placing objects from her bracelet until every pillar had one and she came to Roz.
A single stream from each beetle shot out and caught Roz around the waist, hips, ankles and wrists that were held above her head in a “Y” by the two security guards.
‘There, you're secured. The process will take several hours to coat you, then several more agonising hours are the silk cinches you. Not to worry your screams won’t ruin the party, the room is soundproof and the back garden is too far away for anyone to hear you,’ the Countess smiled as she nodded to the guards to leave. She gave Roz a final look and smile. ‘Not to worry Miss Downing, the venom wears off in a while, but by then you’ll be immobile,’ she added and touched her earring again, closed the door and left leaving Roz to the light hissing of the silk.
Roz could do nothing except listen to her body and hope it could shake off the paralysing drug quickly. Each jet came on and off around her, some sprayed a thin single stand while others had a much wider steam that covered parts of her in a wide translucent filmy blanket. Roz did not panic, she’d been around the block too many times for that in her career, all she could do was wait for her body to respond as she stared straight ahead frozen in place by the drug and the accumulating webbing around her evening gown.
An unrelenting hissing sound filled her ears as the beetles sprayed about her, a thin white sheet forming on her body then the spraying turned to single strands crisscrossing her from shoulders to ankles then back again.
Roz felt movement in her fingers that slowly spread down her body, not a full recovery, but a start and enough for her to use adrenaline to get the rest of her back. The spy however was stiff in place, the beetles had covered her a layered bind of single strands and sheets rendering her powerful and paint form nearly useless. Roz concentrated her efforts on slow hip rolls and twists while she forced her ankles to crossover and back again. She was still being sprayed while the initial layers were contracting.
The FORCE Plus worked tirelessly, slithering and shimmying her body in slow purposeful oscillating dances. Roz changed direction every few revolutions, her ankles crossing the other way as her hips churned in a slow whorl then back and forth for several draws before changing again. It was exhausting work, her breath was shorter as the silk drew tighter about her. Roz’s muscle, trained and sculpted from years of service, pushed back, stretching the elastic death trap that clung to her.
The beetles stopped spraying mercifully, she was covered in a milky white form fitting shroud with designs on crushing her. Roz, hot and burnished from her exertions pushed on, she just needed to keep moving as she worked and adjusted until finally she turned about several times, then reversed and repeated the process breathing a sigh. She inverted her body, her arms still caught in the silk and rubbed against it until she caught a fibrous edge and spun back and forth letting the momentum of her body tighten and loosen her until she freed her arm. A series of nails managed to cut the other arm free.
Rox wasted no time, escaping through the doors that led to the garden she managed to find her car in the parking lot, but not before falling several times from the loose silk still clinging to her body. She unlocked the car through the thumb print reader and started it with a voice command all while unzipping and discarding her dress onto the passenger seat. She was away from the estate in seconds.
She glanced over at the dress as she drove, it had saved her life. The Tungsten Carbide white sparkles in the garment had caught and cut the silk with the help of her motion, there was nothing sharper or stronger or more beautiful when worn by the right spy.
‘And to think I almost chose emerald silk tonight.’
^^^
‘What’s the matter?’ Eric said as he pushed over in the bed to her.
‘Nothing, why do you ask?’ she answered, not turning to face him.
‘Well something is clearly bothering you and it's bothering me so much neither of us can sleep and well, usually after we make love, as much as we do, we’re both pretty tired and every single time we fall asleep holding each other, not this time and to be frank speaking of this time, it was wonderful, always is with you, but tonight you seemed a little distant, more mechanical, there wasn’t that bright spark we seem to ignite,’ Eric said, as his arm when round her waist.
Roz turned over, crooked her arm up to rest her head in her hand and looked at him as he brushed a lock of her from her face.
‘Did you tell anyone about my mission?’ she asked, looking at him closely.
‘No,’ he answered, not liking where this was going. ‘Why?’
‘I’ve had a few days to think about it and the more I do the more I question things,’ she explained. ‘It was all too easy, everything went my way. I didn’t think about it while it was happening but afterwards, it was always in the back of my mind, I couldn’t shake it so I’ve been turning it over again and again. Everything went so well, right up until I got caught. I even got the information transmitted, simple, quick, easy, even finding it on the computer, that was on the desk, not hidden in a locked drawer, was simple, not a complex decryption, ten seconds and I had it another five and FORCE had it, then not a second later I was caught. Then there was the Countess, she must have been tipped off. There was no reason for her to get that close to me, she needed to for her little surprise, but how did she know it was me? The timing is too perfect in all things. I wonder if any of that Intel is even valid?’
‘You think you were the target?’ Eric asked.
‘No, I’m not that conceited, at least I hope I’m not, but given the parameters of the mission I was one of the logical choices. No, I think they wanted us to get that Intel. Some of it may be valid, just enough to make it seem like a successful mission, but what about the parts that aren’t valid, what are they there for unless a trap for future agents to fall into, maybe specific agents TRIDENT wants to target. I mean what better way than to tailor intelligence to get the right mouse to chase the cheese. I need to talk to Claire,’ Roz said, reaching back across herself for her mobile.
She slipped out of bed and into a sheer dressing gown as she called. Roz paced about her bedroom, she and Claire back and forthing on her hypothesis before she flopped herself in an easy chair at the far end of the bedroom. The two talked for another hour before she slipped out of her covering, the firm body illuminated in the soft light of the outside moon and came back to bed and into his arms.
‘When you asked me earlier if I said nothing, I didn’t say anything, but I did get asked if I had any plans for the next few days by Tarsen. His explanation was a finishing trip to the Tweed River in Scotland,’ Eric said as Roz smiled.
‘Now we know,’ she said, shifting a leg over top of him. I apologise for my stiffness earlier, I wasn't sure about how you fit into the puzzle, you don’t. I hope you can forgive me,’ she added.
‘Trust is not easy in this game, lack of trust is easier and we’ve only been together a short while. Our being together may have been part of a wider plan, but I would never do that to you,’ he answered.
‘I know, I knew it instinctively earlier, your, well, passionate enthusiasm and intensity told me so, but I was so wrapped up in this thing I couldn’t be sure. When you didn’t try and stop me from calling Claire I knew it wasn’t you. Your gun was right there, you could have killed me then and there, but you didn’t,’ she answered.
Roz nipped his lips then tried to slide on top, but he had other ideas and he rolled her over onto her back, her legs opening in an inviting invitation.
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