Friday, May 1, 2015

The Judas Stones - Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

            She seemed a prisoner in to her bed!  Her mind screaming to her body to move, make an escape while possible, before it was too late, but instead she tossed her head fitfully and seemed unable to fully surface from her walking dream.  The double glass door that led to her private balcony opened with a sudden blast of cool air that washed up and over her as she lay followed quickly by flowing bilious fog that hugged the floor until its tendrils curled about her bed and spilled onto it. 

            She tried to rise but the weightless vapor seemed to press down and about her binding her hot form to the mattress!  She writhed in futile attempts to escape it grip until out of the open door slipped a gossamer specter of beauty.  Her eyes fell upon the visitor and all desire of escape departed from her fevered mind. 

            “Surely you did assume the evening together would end so quickly Mrs. Hawthorne?  I wasn’t quite truthful about my needs and you posses that need!” Alice said as glided across the floor wearing the most impossibly sexy Victorian negligee the spy had ever scene. 

            Her gaze fixed on Alice she felt the covers slowly slide down her body until she was exposed!  Alice delicately soothed her brow with light brush strokes of her hair the vampires fingers combing through the soft flaxen strands as she laid in out on the pillow away from her neck.  Practiced hands slipped the straps of her nightgown away from her shoulders in sensuous delight!  Mrs. Hawthorne swallowed hard, she was getting excited from the one sided foreplay despite the danger she knew she was in!  Alice lowered her head and pleasantly kissed the chest and base of Mrs. Hawthorne’s breasts, the touch emitting small pants from the spy breathy declarations of joy as Alice’s hand moved sinuously under the fabric and rested on the woman’s mound! 

            “I’m glad to see you’re enjoying yourself Mrs. Hawthorne, but I think we’ll save that pleasure for another evening,” Alice smiled a toothy grin as she raised her eyes to meet the spy’s once more.

 “I can assure you this touch is so much more rapturous for both of us!  Here let me give you a taste!” Lady Alice said as she opened mouth and moved forward.

Mrs. Hawthorne lurched up and forward fighting to catch her breath for just a second, but in a most pleasurable way.  The spy clutched her chest, which was damp with sweat, as was the remainder of her naked body that was stuck to the silk sheets like glue.

“Your imagination nearly got the best of you,” she said to herself as her hand slid between her legs.  “Too bad it didn’t!” she smiled flopping back down into the bed.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

           
            The creeping rays of sunlight danced across her face awaking her from slumber.  She pulled and stretched beneath the covers a few times before rolling out of bed onto to feet and into a few deep extensions of her body, the mild strain bringing it to life.  A clasp of her hands behind her ankles, a deep pull and a roll somersaulted her forward and back into a stand position from which she leisurely extended her left leg up her body and above her head, placing the sole of her foot against the upright post of her bed.  Her hands searched up and closed around her hoisted foot as she pulled inward several times before a sudden sweep of her torso windmilled her down to the planted foot.  She repeated the procedure several times, each revolution loosening her already pliant form more.  Satisfied, she disengaged her leg and fell forward, her hands outstretched as the floor surge up to her.  Landing softly like a cat, her body dove into a series and pushups culminating in a sequence of ten with a hand clap in between each one, her back and shoulder muscles answering and displaying there paradoxical hard softness and they waved to the surface in cords of muscular beauty.  She flipped over, landing on her hard ass in a sitting position with her legs stretched out in front of her for just a second before they began to snap up the length of her body in alternate sweeps, each kick increasing her speed until they blurred to the eye.  Ten minutes later she ended her workout, folded her body into a lotus tuck and let herself relax for a few minutes before tumbling forward and springing to her feet.  She stopped by the floor mirror on her way into the en suite for a shower and smiled.

            “Not bad Mrs. Hawthorne,” she said as she looked at her naked steamy form.  “My trip to India may have not been the secret I’d hoped it would be, but the results are more than I could have hoped for, both in bodily results and with regard to the pleasant situation!”

            The vengeance driven woman had shed 12 pounds and chiseled her form into an even more attractive package than it had been before.  She was faster, much more flexible, stronger, sleeker and if possible sexier.  Her muscles agitated beneath the surface, their attractive hypnotizing movements so pleasing to the watcher masking their true fatal beauty.  I final sideways glance, a smile and she was gone.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

            “Come in,” she called out between vigorous rubs of her hair.

            “I waited until I heard movement.  I hope I’m not interrupting but I had your clothes retrieved from the hotel so as to give you something more than a towel to wear as I’m afraid none of my clothes would fit you.  Funny, I used to be considered a tall woman in my day, now I’m just average,” Alice mused as she put down the bags.

            “That may be the only thing about you that is your Ladyship,” Mrs. Hawthorne returned with a laugh.

            “Please just call me Alice Mrs. Hawthorne.  I’m afraid the title died when I did, although technically since it hasn’t been handed to another woman I still have claim to its privileges, but nonetheless I prefer Alice,” she answered kindly.

            “When you are dressed please meet me downstairs for breakfast.  I also took the liberality of setting up your computer in the library as I assume you’ll be using it later today to locate us some help?” Alice said forgone tone. 

            Mrs. Hawthorne smiled an acknowledgement that sent Alice from the room and her to unpacking.  A while later, wearing a loose white cotton top, a pair of breezy sheer pale blue harem pants complete with a blue thong and flat slip off sandals she joined her host for breakfast.  She ate fast, took her cup of tea and excused herself from Alice’s presence and into the library where her laptop awaited.

            In spite of the previous nights revelations she had managed to formulate a plan of sorts, she did however think Alice might have a placed a bit too much confidence in her ability to obtain help for such a dangerous and completely unauthorized mission.  She knew C.O.I.L. was up against the wall in terms of agents and that no matter how valuable Claire was too them the simply truth was still what Catherine had told her, there will always be another Claire to come along. 

            C.O.I.L. had kept Mrs. Hawthorne pretty much on a need to know basis, not totally trusting her, but that secrecy didn’t extend to Claire and her!  Despite their first encounter with each other and the duo’s subsequent capture and escape from D.O.O.M. they had developed a quasi mother-daughter relationship that filled a void they both had.  That relationship had given Mrs. Hawthorne insights into C.O.I.L. and in turn glimpses of Claire’s various missions that the spy had chosen to share.  She mined that data as she worked to make her first connect, she tried several avenues, all met with failure, which didn’t surprise her as she had know idea if this person would even know of her and if she did, trust her enough to reply, all she could was wait. 

            She filled the void with a book she pulled off one of the shelves in the library, absentmindedly reading.  After more empty hours than she cared to think about she was about to admit defeat when she received a message in her inbox. 
“How are the roses at Vasser this year?”

            Mrs. Hawthorne smiled and typed back rapidly.

“Don’t know about Vasser, but the roses at Radcliffe are deadly!”

            The reply came back.

“Don’t mean to hurt you with the thorns, perhaps its something in the chemistry of the relationship?”

            The spy knew what that meant and didn’t take offense as she replied.

“No I was attracted to the Physics of the relationship between the two!”

            They bantered back and forth a few more times until each was sure and secure with the others identity.  It was just then that Alice came into the room as if on queue as the conversation had reached the point of needing information from her as the unknown persons last e-mail came in.

“Would gladly consider employment abroad.  Please send details regarding date,
 location and timeframe.  I also have a friend who has previous experience in
this area, I will contact her with your offer as well!

            Mrs. Hawthorne typed the information as Alice dictated it to her then sent it with a smile.

            “Well this is excellent news, two other agents; you are making excellent progress Mrs. Hawthorne!” Alice beamed.

            “That’s all the progress I’m going to make Alice!  She was the only one who replied and I have no idea who she is.  She may in fact be a very green agent or she may be a D.O.O.M. agent who knows how to play the game and we may very well have sent her just what we shouldn’t have!  It’s all a giant game Alice and I’m afraid you picked a person in me who only knows a very small percentage of the game players!” Mrs. Hawthorne said as she closed the laptop and stood up and smiled disarmingly before stating.

            “While we’re on that theme I need to know just how good a player are you Alice?”

            Mrs. Hawthorne didn’t wait for an answer she snapped a roundhouse kick and several punches in the direction of Alice!  The woman swiveled forward and ducked the kick rising catch Mrs. Hawthorne’s hands with hers!  The two women closed their hands around each other’s wrists and bent forward their heads almost clashing together as the spun round and round like crazed tops about the floor, the fury of the spins snapping the air like claps of thunder!  Alice came out what seemed her hundredth spin, stepped over her planted leg and launched herself into the contorting her body and Mrs. Hawthorne’s arms in the process.  Alice landed behind her opponent with Mrs. Hawthorne’s arms crossed over themselves and wrapped about her neck as Alice attempted to pull tight and secure her hold!  Mrs. Hawthorne deftly lowered her neck, slipped her head through her own arms stepped over and tossed her opponent over her shoulder and through the air!

            Alice tucked her body, rolled over onto the balls of her feet while still in a tightly curled ball and sprang backward, her body snapping around and straight as she flew into Mrs. Hawthorne her at the last second parried her away and swept her leg up behind her in an effort to connect with Alice’s face!  The vampire blocked the strike and the pendulum kick from the other way as Mrs. Hawthorne swung her leg forward and over the top of her head!  Alice raised both arms with her hands locked together and pushed the kick back before letting momentum carry her into a handstand!  With incredible strength and agility Alice spun on her hands in frenzy of motion as her legs darted in and out and up and down at Mrs. Hawthorne who neatly blocked all the blows before timing her own backward flip to perfection.  Her feet connected flush with both of Alice’s, the collision sending both them into the air and to a standing position when they landed facing each other!

            “You’re a player alright!” Mrs. Hawthorne smiled as both she and Alice relaxed.  “I hope you can forgive me, but I had to know if you could handle yourself.”

            “No forgiveness is required Mrs. Hawthorne.  I’m actually flattered that you care that much about my welfare so soon after we met,” Alice said.

            “What style was that you were using I didn’t recognize it?” Mrs. Hawthorne asked.

            “Wing Chun Kung Fu, but I know many other styles as well if you’d care to see a demonstration?” Alice asked honestly.

            “No, I believe you,” Mrs. Hawthorne said earnestly.  “But having studied Wing Chun I think I can honestly say what you just did is not that!”

            “I can assure you Mrs. Hawthorne that it most certainly is Wing Chun, just not the Wing Chun you your teacher taught you, but then again your teacher was not Wu Mei.”  Alice answered as she watched the expression on Mrs. Hawthorne’s face change from bewilderment to mystified understanding in seconds.

            “I keep forgetting although I’m looking at a 25 year old woman, you’re not really 25!  You mean you actually learned Wing Chun from its developer and her adopted daughter, Wing Chun herself!” Mrs. Hawthorne said in amazement.

            “Actually Wing Chun and I learned it together in secret after the Shaolin Temple was destroyed and the nun Wu Mei fled.  There is however, Mrs. Hawthorne, two versions of Wing Chun Kung Fu, the one Yip Man brought to Hong King and Bruce Lee learned, the one popular now all over the world and the one Wing Chun and I learned.  Wu Mei’s pure version, developed specifically for women, is a far more deadly form than the one employed today.  She only taught Wing Chun and I as far as I know and Wing Chun only taught her daughter the form, I have taught no one, but you Mrs. Hawthorne could do very well with this form!” Alice suggested.

            “You where in China during the 17th century?” Mrs. Hawthorne asked incredulously.

            “When one doesn’t age, one must keep moving after so many years in the same place and besides Mrs. Hawthorne, England can get boring after a while!” she answered playfully. 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            The contact having been made and time and location set for their meeting Alice and Mrs. Hawthorne spent one more day in the house before their plane left for Japan.  During that time Mrs. Hawthorne took advantage of Alice’s offer and began learning the first ten movements of Wing Chun adding yet another weapon to her arsenal.           

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

            “She’s on flight 208 to Tokyo.  No she’s alone, shall I make arrangements for her arrival.  I understand, I’ll alert our office in Tokyo to keep a close watch on her but do nothing until advised.  She may lead us to bigger fish!”

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

            Lessons always took place in the cool of the night; the days were far to hot, but lately the nights had been just as hot for the two of them!  She smoothly and elegantly walked between the pillars that supported part of the temple roof and formed a natural corridor, the light chiffon fabric she had draped about her body billowing in the air currents she created as the moonlight penetrated the opaque fabric revealing her luscious body.  She’d scented her body with jasmine water knowing it would please him and done her hair up and held it in place with flowers she’d picked that day.  She turned into an almost invisible corner and down a dimly lit passage for several meters before her hand gently pushed the stone in the exact place and it swiveled on its base opening just enough for her to slip through. 

            She emerged into his private quarters, a paradise of marble statues, ornately carved teak walls and smooth sandalwood floors.  She delicately stepped across the open floor of the main entrance her feet silent as she moved.  Soundlessly she pulled back the curtain to his inner chamber and disappeared inside the curtain returning to rest as if it had never been disturbed.  His inner chamber was illuminated in a soft orange/red light that emitted from the hidden folds at the edge of the cupola ceiling that was itself decorated in a kaleidoscope of mosaic tiles intricately arranged into a series of geometric shapes.  Four small carved statues, one for each corner framed out the space, each representing one of the signs that made up the physical elements, earth, water, sky, fire.  The floor in this room, was one sheet of solid marble approximately 10’ by 10’ and as she had discovered to her delight, heated and not cold, courtesy of a thermal fissure just below.  He was situated in the middle of the room, in a lotus position, deep in meditation, but expectant of her arrival as she noted.

            She undid her chiffon covering and discarded it by the curtain; she removed her flats and moved to him.  He was young, maybe 24 or so, somehow their conversations had never ventured into personal inquiries and both seemed to prefer to keep it that way. His body was defined and strong, his smooth flowing muscles and flexible skeleton the true sign of the Yoga master he most certainly was.  She’d come as a student, one of many Western’s who regularly purchased two week vacations at the temple hoping to somehow grasp the knowledge that took a lifetime and sometimes not even that was enough time.  They’d caught each others eye quickly and were lovers even quicker!  She’d proved an adept and willing pupil, spending hours in study, both bodily and mentally, the latter immersed in ancient manuscripts held within the temple library. 

            She tenderly rubbed the nipples of her firm breasts up and down his back as she knelt behind him.  She shimmied her torso every few strokes, skating her nipples across his back with the action having the effect, as she had planned, slowly bringing him to the surface.  Her body closed in, her lips playing along his neck as her pleasing scent invaded his senses and heightening his desire for her!  Carefully she snaked her long legs around him, rubbing them purposefully against his sides as he craned his neck backward to her waiting wet lips! 

            Velvety legs slip around him, her toes soon found his still flaccid cock which they surrounded in a shell like clamp.  Persuasive action from her was not needed; just her motionless technique was more than sufficient to expand him as his pole grew and hardened emerging from the cocoon of flesh she had enveloped it in!  Soft playful runs up and down his shaft with her feet quivered him with electric jolts of pleasure as she ran her fingers along the velvet hardness of his muscular stomach and ribs, her fingers splayed as they rose and fell amongst the undulations. 

She slowly drew her lips from his and began kissing down his neck and onto his smooth hard chest, her hands occupying a massaging sensuous grip on his ass cheeks.  She carefully kissed each ridge on her descent until her she was close enough to blow cool air along the throbbing massive shaft of his manhood.  Her tongue flicked and darted about his member, tender light kisses mixed with long brushing motions of her lips and devilish tongue kept him hers as their hot bodies melted together, the jasmine water filling them with sweet aromatic pleasure.

She kissed and played with his tip teasing him purposefully before seizing him in her mouth and coddling him as his body shuddered around her.  The woman’s tongue lolled around his pulsating mast, wrapping around it like a coiling snake about its struggling prey as it squirmed and struggled to escape then enveloping shroud. The woman delicately undid her legs and slipped into a more advantageous position as she took a few final pulls on his mast before releasing him with two well placed kisses.

“I wanted our last night together to unforgettable for you my young yoga master,” she purred.  “All my time in your most wonderful library will yield just that I believe!  Tell me how does the Medusa’s Kiss feel, or perhaps more accurately doesn’t feel my stiff lover!  I stumbled upon the technique in a long forgotten scroll written by a female master of this temple over 2000 years ago.  Its Tantric in nature, my tongue and lips deliver a nerve pinching touch that spreads outward from your root, the massage of my hands to your ass helps speed the paralysis.  Fortunately the victim is much too occupied to notice the attack, but as you can tell the results cannot be denied!”

“Why?” he managed to meekly ask before his mouth ceased to work at all and he was silent.

“I also discovered, quite accidentally, during my studies that you possess something I that could be of great value to me and the ironic thing is that you didn’t even know you had it!  Its in this room in fact, but since I was never allowed in here unless you allowed it, well, lets just say it made things a little more complicated, that is until I discovered the Medusa’s Kiss!”

“Oh I could have killed you with poison, but I prefer more exotic means to terminate my prey.  You however are far too strong and a fight between us would have an uncertain outcome, hence the kiss!  I’m afraid letting you live is out of the question, you may come after me once the paralysis has worn off in several days time.  I want to thank you for all the wonderful yoga sessions we’ve had together and the after sessions as well!  Now its time for our last session together!” she hissed.

Nancy Prud’homme, idly slithered her crossed legs around either side of his head, her smooth skin sliding into place and locking secure!  The assassinatrix gracefully rolled him backward from his lotus position and her up onto her feet in one fluid motion.  Her fingers locked into the toes of his feet as she swung her arms above her head stretching out his body against hers. 

“Now to secure you totally to me!” the spy said evilly. 

The woman wiggled and gyrated her hips until she captured his rock hard obelisk.  Soft insistent undulations worked him in to her trap until he was secured! 

“I won’t move if you won’t my master!” her voice said in a slinky tone.

Nancy knew she didn’t have to move for him to orgasm.  Tantric stillness would bring him to climax over time and for each orgasm she’d bend him forward in her Pleasure Pole!  She listened to his body as he worked to control it against her wiles, she knew he had excellent control, but she had years of experience on her side and the knowledge she’d gained from their couplings over the last month.  She smiled after two hours as the first low throbbing beat against her!  They increased slowly; the more he tried to resist the faster they got as she mocked him.

“You know struggling only has the opposite effect my trapped master!”

Nancy waited and waited until finally his wall of defiance crumbled and he came gloriously, his body convulsing involuntarily!  She left him spend himself completely before she bent The Pleasure Pole forward, bowing his back!  Again, the cool spy waited, letting him build his joy and hers!  The position was perfect for her to obtain incredible stimulation from his pulsations!  The assassinatrix moan in pleasure as she doggedly maintained her stillness in spite of the endless exhilaration she was experiencing.  She came again and again, her reserves being spent by his will, but much to slowly as he came again and she shift him closer to death!

“If only you could have conditioned your mind and body to resist you could have worn me down and maybe survived.  I knew that was a distinct chance in this trap, but I wanted to give you the opportunity to escape!” she laughed.

She leaned over him a little more as she bent the Pleasure Plot after each of his orgasms until he was tight in a backward bending U shaped ball!  Her ageless taut body, honed from a month of intensive training waited to snap about him, the muscles in her arms, back and legs washed in the amber glow of the lights about and her own moisture.  He battled her for hours, coming close, but always managing to pull away from the edge.  Nancy calmly let the Tantric Sex Trap wear him down, her Medusa’s Kiss was still in full effect, his powerful body having been so magnificently neutralized by her soft caresses.  She felt his palpitations again, they grew and grew, she instinctively knew this one could not be stopped!  He quaked in her Pleasure Pole as he came, she tensed and thrust her hips inward and her arms back to a load cracking and a final convulsion.  She smiled and dislodged her hold letting his broken body fall to the marble floor his manhood still engorged she noticed.

“That’s my boy, always ready for more!” she said mockingly.

Nancy wasted no time in obtaining her prize!  She carefully brought the four statues together, each intricately locking into the other in a specific way that she hand learned from one of the scrolls.  The final statue was moved into place and the puzzle was ready.  The assassinatrix waited and watched for a few seconds until almost imperceptibly the four statues began to meld together into one complete form. 

The spy watched as the head of the new statue completed its transformation and its mouth opened.  She smiled and reached into the mouth removing what appeared to be an ordinary stone. 

“One down.”

She was elated and for the first time since she could remember scared.  She donned her chiffon fabric and slid her feet into her sandals. 

“I need to get moving, they’re never far behind and I’ve outstayed my welcome.”





           

           

           




           
           


           


            

The Judas Stones - Chapter 1

Chapter One:

            She’d chosen well, the evening was hot and promised to get hotter before the end of things, one way or another.  Her choice of apparel would separate from her body easily but not so effortlessly from that of her intended target, failing that her body would complete the mission.  She moved among the gathered pockets of people, never staying to long in one place before shifting to another, while admirers followed her departing trail, some even so bold enough to move with her.  She chatted, sipped her mineral water, waited and watched her unsuspecting target and the night’s entertainment, for her at least.  

            She’d studied her carefully, through pictures and video as well as a complete dossier but she’d come early to get a first hand impression.  The spring in her step, their measure, the turn of her ankle, the shake of her hips were all recorded but seeing it up close was more instructive than any piece of film or picture could be.  So she’d come earlier than she normally would have to any party, just for these final preparations, this meant too much for failure to be an option. 

            Over time the guests thinned out until only the serious partygoers, those too drunk and those not yet drunk enough were left.  She retreated to the periphery of the gathering and waited in the shadows shielding herself with other guests from inquisitive eyes.  It was just after 12:30 am when the doors to the patio opened letting in some much-needed air; even hot humid currents carrying the promise of imminent rain were welcome.  The air filtered in as her target wafted out and into the night.

            “Perfect! Now to top of the evening!” she said setting down her glass, slipping through room and out the doors, closing them silently behind her.  It took a second for her eyes to adjust before she spotted her by the fountain a little way off, smiling a predatory grin she moved in for the kill.

            “That’s far enough Mrs. Hawthorne,” she heard a woman’s British accented voice behind her say then felt the cold steel barrel of a small caliber handgun contact the small of her exposed back. 

            “I shouldn’t move if I were you!” Mrs. Hawthorne heard the female voice say in response to a slight testing of the waters by way of a body flinch.

“Although not the best shot I could hardly fail to miss from here and even you can’t move faster than a bullet!” her assailant said warningly as the gun barrel point was pushed a little into her back to emphasize the point.

“I think we’ll call it an evening then!  Please turn around and move towards the patio doors and from there to the main doors.  Don’t stop for anything or anyone or the consequences will be disastrous for all!”

Mrs. Hawthorne did as she was instructed moving quickly and obediently into the house, avoiding the stray of people about and out the main door all the while with the gun in her back and her as yet unseen female master in step with her.  She would get her chance and she had no wish to see other people get hurt, or perhaps more importantly aid in this woman’s escape!

They stopped under the large domed concrete portico painted with frescoes of idyllic summer scenes that covered the main entrance as a clap of thunder rumbled above and a waiting limousine.  The driver nodded to an unseen command and opened the back door.

“Into the car Mrs. Hawthorne and please no attempts at escape,” the woman said.

“It hadn’t crossed my mind,” came her sweet reply.  “I want to see you before I kill you!” she added just as honeyed voiced. 

The two navigated into the car, the spy instructed to the far side while her opponent seated occupied the near side door keeping a safe but effective range for shooting between them.

‘Whoever she is, she’s a professional, but even they make mistakes and when she does I’ll make sure it’s her last!”  Mrs. Hawthorne thought.

The car sped away into the night just as the heavens opened up to a torrential downpour.  Mrs. Hawthorne’s until now unseen abductor pulled down the black cloak she had over her face and turned to face the spy for the first time.  Mrs. Hawthorne took her measure instantly as she scanned.  About five feet, five inches in height, mid twenties, slim, aristocratically attractive in the strictest sense of the word with a wonderful figure and fantastic legs that protruded through the slit in the side of her dress.  Her blonde hair was elegantly styled and set, her make up perfect and her accessories perfectly and exquisitely matched to her face, style and figure and all of impeccable quality, some beyond anything Mrs. Hawthorne had ever seen before. 

“You have the complete package, but can you use it?” Mrs. Hawthorne mused as they went along.

Neither party invited nor initiated conversion both seemed content to let the rain pelt against the roof and windows as the vehicle spurted along the light of over passing street lights briefly illuminating the two in flashes before darkness took over again.  The limo turned several times, it made no difference to Mrs. Hawthorne; her fixation was at the other end of the seat.  Finally, the spy calculated about forty-five minutes, they turned slowly and the car rolled to a stop.  The driver came round and opened her door; she stepped out quickly, airily and nimbly before moving around to Mrs. Hawthorne’s.  A nod from her and he opened the door.

“This way if you please Mrs. Hawthorne,” she said with a motion of the pistol.

The spy just as elegantly came out of her side and moved to the front door that the driver had already opened for them. 

The house or more correctly, the mansion was of colonial George III design with five large while columns supporting the front cover porch that ran the entire length of the home.  The classic balanced design of evenly matched numbers of windows set of the face.

“That will be all for tonight thank you,” the woman said to the driver.  He departed closing the door behind him.

“Alone at last I hope?” Mrs. Hawthorne said. “I hate to work in front of an audience!” she added.

“To your left please Mrs. Hawthorne and then through the door at the far end of the room,” came the instructions with a poke in the back once more.

 The duo turned away from the main centre staircase and into the Drawing Room with its alternating black and white marble tile floor that their heels clicked along in symbiotic fashion so it sounded like only one set.  As they came to the door Mrs. Hawthorne was instructed to open the door as they other took several steps back.  The spy dutifully obeyed and the two past into the room the door closing behind them.

The room was about fifteen by fifteen and consisted of a large mahogany desk and two leather chair, one on each side.  The wall behind was lined with bookshelves and filled with neatly ordered bound volumes with running ladder to reach the highest shelves.  The other main part of the room was sectioned into a neat conversation area of two wing backed chairs and two leather love seats arranged in a square.  Other assorted pieces of fine furniture filled in the gaps and had it been daylight the room would have been flooded with light from the three large windows that ran the length of one wall interspersed by paintings of landscapes.  The woman led Mrs. Hawthorne to the sitting area.

“Please sit down Mrs. Hawthorne, anywhere you wish.”

The spy chose one of the love seats her body coiling for action as she sat, the woman took the one opposite her, much to the spy’s delight and then surprise as she put down the gun on the table before them.

“They have there use I supposed?” she said as the two starred at the gun and then each other.  “But I’ve always found them noisy and well impersonal” she added.  “Besides it’s not loaded, but then if you suspected that you never would have come with me would you Mrs. Hawthorne?”

“No and I couldn’t agree more about the impersonal part!” she smiled knowing her chance had finally arrived as she tensed to strike.

“But upon reflection, perhaps I should have loaded it, given the situation we both could have found ourselves in this evening?” the woman said.

Mrs. Hawthorne relaxed a little, but not much just in case it was a ruse this woman was playing at.

“You seemed to have me at a bit of a disadvantage I know neither what you are referring to nor your name,” Mrs. Hawthorne stated.

“I’m afraid you were walking into a very carefully orchestrated trap Mrs. Hawthorne.  You’re intentions were known the minute you were spotted at the airport.  Inez Sunga is not a woman without resources!  If you’d followed her to the fountain you would have been dragged under by four little water nymphs and made a prisoner of their kingdom.  I think you know what I mean by that?” the woman said.

“Yes I do!” Mrs. Hawthorne said quietly.  She began to sense the danger leaving and curiosity about this woman replacing it.  She decided to press for more.

“And how did you know about me?”

“That requires an answer in two parts, one of which I’m sure you can deduce.”

“C.O.I.L.” Mrs. Hawthorne answered.

“Yes, they gave me your dossier, it’s over there on the desk if you’d like to take a look,” she said with a glance over her shoulder.  “I am very sorry about your husband Mrs. Hawthorne,” she said solemnly and Mrs. Hawthorne could tell with sincerity.  “But also you are a truly remarkable woman!”

Before the spy could offer an awkward thank you the woman picked up the conversation again.

“As to the second part of your question, how I found you,” she said getting up and producing a stiletto from the slit in the dress and releasing the blade.  “Well its time to put an end to that charade!”

Mrs. Hawthorne stood up ready for battle at the sight of the knife.

“Mrs. Hawthorne do you really think if I wanted you dead you wouldn’t be so by now!  After all, the gun wasn’t loaded and it would be a lot less messy and faster than this,” she said holding the knife open in her palm for the spy to take.

She pondered it for several seconds, rolled the logic around and decided whatever was going on she was going to see this drama to its conclusion.

“Thank you for trusting me,” the woman said seeing the spy relax.  “Please lean over the love seat and grip the back with your hands, I’ll try and be gentle.”

Mrs. Hawthorne felt the tiniest of pricks then a sharp dig and then nothing before turning around.

“A tracking device, but how and why?” she demanded.
“Your recent trip to India seems not to have gone as unnoticed as you perhaps would have liked!” the woman said dropping the tiny flesh colored chip to the floor before grinding it under her heel.  “Planted on you by one of your teachers, a woman named Amrit Pradesh I believe, a D.O.O.M. operative.  They’ve been tracking your every movement since that time, but not to worry Mrs. Hawthorne, this house and my car jammed its transmission so your whereabouts are now a mystery to them once more.  You seem to occupy a special fascination for them, so much so they needed to have a little extra edge to finish you!”

“But how did C.O.I.L. find me?” Mrs. Hawthorne asked.

“C.O.I.L. didn’t find you Mrs. Hawthorne I did.  I have access and means to certain information they don’t through associates of mine.  C.O.I.L. thinks I’m here as representative of theirs, through a phony cover I’ve set up to get you to join them full-time.  Now you tell me Mrs. Hawthorne why didn’t Amrit kill you when she had the chance?”

“Because I killed her!  On our last day together we were practicing The Striking Cobra Style when she seized me in the hold!  She had not taught me all of the style on purpose, but she made it seem that she had.  I was practicing one day by myself before she came when another master happened to see me.  He thought I was making excellent progress and was ready to learn the final stages.  Of course I immediately suspected and eagerly asked him if he would show me if I promised not to tell, he agreed I set up the sessions in secret, learned quickly and was prepared.  D.O.O.M. has been after me for so long I just chalked it up to another failed attempt!” Mrs. Hawthorne smiled.

            “That explains my end of the story, but yours is still an enigma?” the spy said letting the question hang in the air.

            “Yes, yes it does, doesn’t it,” the woman said getting up and walking over to a bookshelf and pulling out a volume.  “I need your help Mrs. Hawthorne.”

            “That’s very flattering but how do you know I’m the right person for the job and more importantly what makes you think I’ll help?” the spy answered.

            “Because of where I found you tonight and what you were doing there,” the woman smiled.

            “Go on,” Mrs. Hawthorne said alertly.

“Revenge is a noble quest Mrs. Hawthorne, but it won’t save Claire!”

“If you know something about Claire tell me now!  Anything! Anything I can do to help I will.  I love her and miss her so much.  Please tell me!” Mrs. Hawthorne said her voice breaking as she spoke.

“Claire is in great and constant pain, I feel her distress, her torment.  I’ve tried to take some of it away but there’s too much of it!  She needs more than I can do, the line is too thin, too old!” the woman said tears forming in her eyes.

“I don’t understand what line?” Mrs. Hawthorne said desperately

“Our blood line Mrs. Hawthorne.  Claire Baxter is a child of mine!” the woman pushed out as she got control of herself.

“What! Impossible! What are you all of twenty-five or six yourself!”

“Very good Mrs. Hawthorne I am only twenty-five and you I believe also have a Masters Degree in the Classics and History from Radcliffe,” she answered passing her the book she’d removed from the self.

“You’ll find I’ve book marked the appropriate passage for you,” she noted.
Mrs. Hawthorne opened to the passage and began reading out loud.

Revelation 12: 7-9

“Now war arose in heaven, Michael and his angels fighting against the dragon; and the dragon and his angels fought, but they were defeated and there was no longer any place for them in heaven.  And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world – he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.”

            “I don’t understand,” Mrs. Hawthorne said looking up from the page.

 “Perhaps it would be easier if I explained it from the beginning,” she said.

            Mrs. Hawthorne said nothing she merely closed the book, set it beside her and waited for the woman to begin.

            “My name is Alice Hamilton, Lady Alice Hamilton if you want to be precise.  I was born in the village of Totness in Devonshire, England the only child of the Manor House.  My mother died when I was 10 giving birth to my brother, who also died.   I was married at the age of 23, gave birth to a daughter at 24 then watched my husband and father die within 12 hours off each other.  Overcome with grief and fear I took my child and embarked on a hurried trip north to Scotland,” Alice said then paused as she looked at Mrs. Hawthorne.

            “I’m sorry for the tragedies that you’ve experienced but so far there is nothing in your life that fleshes out the drama you’re trying to instill into this evening,” the spy said calmly but with genuine feeling. 

            “Would you say the same words Mrs. Hawthorne if I told you I was born in the year 1324,” Alice said calmly. 

            The spy said nothing, she had nothing to say, her mind was swimming in conflicted thoughts and rebuttals and the complete impossibility of it all!  It had to be some kind of mind game this young woman was playing at, but to what purpose, what end?  She took the data the woman had given her and tried to make some sense of it!  The passage from the Book of Revelations, the other hard data and forced her mind to work, calling up old memories from university and studies she’d done.  Desperately she looked for answer other than the one she had formulated, which was not possible!  She stood up and paced oblivious to the other woman, who she no longer viewed as a threat, now she was becoming something more dangerous to Mrs. Hawthorne, something it couldn’t resolve with her rationale. 

            Lady Alice moved silently to the small collection of decanters on a empty shelf and poured two drinks that she placed on the desk just as Mrs. Hawthorne came up to her.

            “I have to know, please forgive me,” the spy said softly even though her heart was hammering.

            “Claire said the same thing when I told her my story as well,” she smiled warmly.  “Please be my guest,” she said opening her arms.

            “I think you’ll need this now!” Lady Alice said as she handed Mrs. Hawthorne her glass and took her by the arm for support while leading her to her chair before taking the seat opposite her.

            “Perhaps I’d better fill in more of my story whist you recover Mrs. Hawthorne.  One day in May of that summer a boat from France sailed up the river Dart and anchored in Totness to unload its cargo of traded goods, much as was usual.  However, when the workers came on board to unload the goods they found the crew, the few that were still alive covered with black festering sores that secreted the most foul odor imaginable!  That morning Mrs. Hawthorne, the Black Death landed in my world.  Within two days 95 percent of the village was dead, including my husband and my father, neither of whom I was allowed to see for fear of contracting the sickness.  Instead I had to endure their screams of agonizing pain and the awful smell that clung in the air.”

            “You can’t imagine it Mrs. Hawthorne, in two days 900 people were dead, most where they fell with no one to bury them!  The Plague spread like the cloak of Satan rapidly over the area, entire villages disappeared in days, no one was spared and no one had an answer to it.  You would see a person in the morning and by noon they were dead and all the while you waited for it to be your turn.  Sick people, children, infants, anyone who showed signs of the sickness were cast out of their homes and into the street to die and worst yet spread the pestilence!”

            “I gathered up my child, my little Mary, what money and easily bartered goods I could and fled north in our coach hoping to outrun the plague.  We were just outside of York, in a hollow when suddenly the horses stopped; I called in anger to my driver to move on but got no answer.  Finally in frustration I put my child down beside me on the seat, exited the coach and found our driver dead of the sickness.  The panic gave way to a sudden chill that got under my cloak and clothes, I turned around just in time to see the entire carriage engulfed in an ethereal fog, the like of which I had never seen before.  I pushed my way through it and back to the coach, but with each step I seemed to be being sucked deeper into the mists as they swirled about me.  I groped forward, arms outstretched fingers probing for the carriage, it was then that it seized me, tore me into the air, spinning me in a vortex of gray and black as it sucked at me, wormed under my skin and wrapped itself about me.  It sunk its claws into my very being Mrs. Hawthorne, violated me beyond your comprehension of the word and told me sweet lies that echoed inside my mind and body, each reverb of its voice looking to find a corner of me that would say yes and submit!”

            “The more I resisted the more it tormented me with visions of what I could have and what I would be with it.  All I need say was yes and it would all end and a new beginning would unfold for me, better than anything promised me and all would be given instantly.  Undo your promise, it would say over and over again in, forfeit what you do not deserve, that which is rightfully ours and I will release you!  I never did submit Mrs. Hawthorne, I have no idea how long I was fighting for, perhaps a few hours, perhaps only a few seconds, but I won when a called out the name above all others and the creature fled from me.  My battle however did not leave me entirely unscathed as you now know,” Lady Alice concluded.  “Outside of Claire, Mrs. Hawthorne, you are the only other person in the world who has heard this.” 

            “It just all seems way to fantastic to be true!” the spy said absently.

            “No more fantastic than Striking Cobra Yoga or a Constricting Sari, Mrs. Hawthorne, both of which until a few years ago you would have relegated as the creation of an erotic spy story writer.  To paraphrase a person I once knew: There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt in your mind Mrs. Hawthorne!” Alice said with a smile.

            “You can say it Mrs. Hawthorne, perhaps then it will become a reality and trust me I’m not offended by the name especially since most of the notions around it are utter nonsense!” Alice urged.

            “You’re a vampire!” Mrs. Hawthorne heard herself say as if the words came from someone else.

            “Yes, but not as you understand the word.  I neither drink blood nor shun the daylight, no that fate is saved for the unfortunates who answer yes.  What attacked me Mrs. Hawthorne was a fallen angel, one of the very same who Michael and his army cast out of heaven and who fell to earth.  Once glorious creatures beyond words they in their hate turned inward upon themselves growing their hate with fire that slowly consumed them.  Cast out from God’s grace they soon found began to fade, losing their corporeal form over time turning into mist until some vanished from this reality forever.  But not all, Satan, the fallen archangel found a way, he would take from people the one thing God had not bestowed upon him or any other creature of his creation, save man and woman, their soul!”

            “By taking that freely from God’s so precious creation, he and his followers would still have their revenge.  The freely given soul would feed and sustain their hunger allowing them to remain in the world and would take from God one more of his beloved children.  My heart may no longer beat and I may be somewhat cold to the touch, but I assure you Mrs. Hawthorne my soul, my essence, my Chi, my Ying and Yang, whatever you call it in whatever language you speak is still mine until the end.  All that blood and sun twaddle you can blame on Hollywood, Bram Stoker and fairy tales designed to keep social order amongst the masses, most of which by the way were supported and even encouraged by the church of the day.” Alice said a small amount of bitterness creeping into the words.

            “I have to ask,” Mrs. Hawthorne started to say

            “No I can’t jump great heights, don’t have super strength or amazing reflexes, can’t turn into a bat or a wolf or disappear into a bank of fog, don’t have a craving for human blood or sleep in a coffin and contrary to myth I can go out during the day.   I am however, by nature of having no heart beat impervious to poisons and disease, in all other aspects, except aging though I’m as mortal as you are!  Although I do have a penchant for black evening attire,” she mused with a laugh.  “I think you need another drink before I continue?” Alice said getting up and retrieving the bottle and small old notebook. 

            “Now to answer the final part of your original question,” Alice said before continuing.  “Claire being a child of mine.  In the strictness biological sense of course that’s not true, but not in the bloodlines understanding.  When I forced the creature to release me I awoke nowhere near the carriage, in fact I had no idea where I was, but I instantly knew what I was and that didn’t bother me nor did it seem to be evident to people I met.  I was however careful never to let them touch me for too long and I quickly learned that living in a place for more than five years at a time was dangerous, but I’m getting ahead of myself.  I searched and searched for Mary, but I never found her, I resigned myself to the fact that she had either been taken by the creature or more hopefully found by a passerby and taken.  It took me 598 years to prove the latter.  In 1947 I met Claire in Los Angeles.”

            “Please don’t ask me how she ended up in 1947 when she wasn’t even born yet.  I have a copy of her mission report, I believe its called The Boundaries of Time and I’ve included a copy of it with your dossier if you care to look after we’re finished.” Alice stated.

            “One night I brought her some clothes to wear in the Salvation Army mission where I volunteered and she was staying.  Claire was so overjoyed she gave me a hug and tried to kiss me on the cheek.  I, through centuries of careful avoidance pulled away, but the contact and hence the bloodline had been re-established.  Some how I had met a direct descendant of my daughter Mary, I knew it instantly, but Claire was oblivious, when she left I had to wait another 59 years to see her again!  As the time grew closer I began to dream of her in my sleep, vampires don’t dream Mrs. Hawthorne, I found her in New York and well you can imagine her shock at seeing a young woman she left in 1947 still young in 2003.  Until she saw that book, she was convinced it was a plot by her adversaries to extract information from her.”

            Mrs. Hawthorne opened the old notebook, its paper yellow with age and brittle, but the writing was still legible and most definitely was Claire’s.  It contained page after page of detailed information on stocks to by, investments to make, days to get in and out, land to buy and when and whom to sell it, even small bio’s on the purchaser as to how much they would pay for the land.  The last page contained a note:

I can never repay you for your kindness but maybe this can help.
Please follow these instructions to the letter, don’t ask me how I
know these things that would take too long to explain, just trust me.
 I’ve started with small transactions to gain your confidence.
You’ll always have a place in my heart,
Claire

            “I was already a wealthy woman at this point Mrs. Hawthorne, Claire’s gift made me much more so as I’m sure you can imagine, but it didn’t make the waiting any easier.  I’ve lived 680 years, but the last 59 were the longest of my existence. I was no longer alone Mrs. Hawthorne, I had someone who was blood and finally someone I knew I could trust with my secret!  I’m not going to lose that now and I sense you’re a woman who shares that passion about Claire, otherwise you wouldn’t have been their tonight looking for revenge.” Alice boldly said.

`           Mrs. Hawthorne’s head was already swimming with the imagines her abductor/rescuer had given her that evening, now she was being asked to, if she read Alice correctly, help save Claire.  She had no idea if this woman knew what she was getting into, beyond her longevity, she was mortal, wealth meant nothing in the box she played in, cunning, skill, stealth and luck were the commodities traded.  The spy had only committed herself to avenging Claire, that in and of itself was all she could offer since the spy’s whereabouts were unknown and every private avenue she’d tried to locate her had failed.  She decided to probe the waters a little more, but her mind was made up.

            “Do you have any idea where she is?” came the straight on question.

            “In Japan with a Kunoichi named Kiko, but you knew that already Mrs. Hawthorne.  The more specific question is where in Japan and that Claire has already told me,” Alice said taking a sip of her sherry.

            “When you where in contact with her through your dreams,” Mrs. Hawthorne nodded.

            “Yes.  Finding her will be easy, curing her will be another.  I can ease her pain enough to buy us the time we need, but it’s really a one way street.  The treatment is temporary once the time period is up she will go into a rapid and fatal remission and die within hours,” Alice said casting her head down slightly at the thought.

            “What do we have to do?” Mrs. Hawthorne said committing herself fully.

            “We need to recover a myth, a set of 13 healing stones that are spread around the world.  When gathered together and aligned in a certain way around the body they generate a healing field that restores the damaged body.” Alice stated.

            “A myth is a hard item to seize in your hands,” Mrs. Hawthorne countered.

            “All myth’s and legends have their basis in reality Mrs. Hawthorne and I haven’t been around 680 years doing nothing.  These stones exist, apart, their interesting sculptures or pretty semi-precious stones, nothing more, but together they are greater than their sum and I know where each of them is,” Alice smiled.

            “Then why do you need me?” the spy asked.

            “Some of their owners may not want to part with them so willingly and more to the point, given the sheer number of them I think we will require a tad more help in our recovery efforts.  I was hoping you knew some other agents who could be persuaded to help?” Alice asked slyly.

            “So your influence within C.O.I.L.’s upper echelon extends about as far as mine does,” the spy laughed.  I think I may be able to help in that area and help may be closer than we know if my intelligence is correct.  You do however understand what you’re getting into!  These people play for keeps and you’re not exactly trained for this and what to expect once you’re in.  As far as I’m can tell from what you’ve told me you’re basically mortal, bullets and other means of execution, excepting poison and drugs will work on you just as effectively as they will on me!” Mrs. Hawthorne warned.

            “That’s true, but that doesn’t seem to be holding you back Mrs. Hawthorne.  After all this is a little out of your general modus operandi isn’t it?” Alice countered in a friendly tone.

            “For Claire I’d do anything, besides I can handle myself and D.O.O.M. has a nasty habit of turning up when you least expect or want them to!” the spy volleyed back.

            “I read, write and speak 15 languages Mrs. Hawthorne; I could neither read nor write when I was changed.  As for the more esoteric skills and arts while I’ve had 655 years to learn and train and apply them!” she said with a wry knowing smile.

            “As your Ladyship commands!” Mrs. Hawthorne smiled raising her glass.