This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don't read it.
Unfortunately no politicians or lawyers were injured or killed in the writing of this story, and no one else was either.
If you enjoyed it, then please Email me and tell me. If you hated it, Email me and lie.
I will always welcome contact.
AUTHOR'S HEALTH WARNING
Dear Reader,
Life can be a crock sometimes, so if it all right with you, I actually prefer happy endings. So, if you want the hero(ine) to have a really miserable time, READ SOMETHING ELSE.
But if you want to see good prevail, and end up with a soppy smile, then I have achieved what I set out to do.
Please enjoy.
Tanya
tanya_jaya@yahoo.co.uk
The legal stuff.
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
Monique
by Tayna J
Parts 10 - 12
Part 10.
"Alex, this is my friend, Alison." I said, dropping the French accent, with some relief, I might add.
"Hello!" he said, "You haven't answered my question. Hey, what happened to your voice?"
"Alison is a British Police Officer working with me on something. I didn't want to get you involved, but I find myself having to, as you deserve the truth. Sit down, please."
He just gaped at me, and sat down, hard.
"Alex, I work with the CIA. We are trying to crack an international conspiracy of terrorism and corruption. The problem is that some of our own people have been bought, and the bomb in the café was meant for me. I am sorry I wasn't able to tell you before."
"But, last night, and this morning?" he stammered.
"That was real, I didn't lie to you then." I said. Alison groaned and rolled her eyes.
"I knew there was something different about you. No way could you be only nineteen. You are far too confident and self-assured to be a simple job seeker."
"Hey, if it is any consolation, it is my twentieth birthday today. But I am so sorry to get you mixed up in all this." I said.
He just shook his head, and had an odd smile on his face.
"How did the interview go?"
He grinned.
"I failed."
I smiled, knowing that he so wanted to fail.
"What next?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"What you do, and whether I can tag along."
I looked at him.
"Alex, this isn't some sort of game. Alison was blown up in a bomb explosion, and her arms and legs were badly cut by flying glass. An FBI agent is lying critically ill in intensive care, and a CIA double agent was shot. You could be killed. So if you feel anything for me at all, leave us alone."
"I can't, I think I'm falling in love with you." he said.
I stared at him, and Alison groaned a terrible groan.
"Alex, I am not what you think."
"I don't care. In the short time I have known you, I feel alive for the first time. You make life exciting, as you are so fresh and vibrant. I just want to be part of whatever you are. I want to be with you."
"Alex, I am no good for you. I lied to you."
"You had to.. It's your job."
"But you know nothing about me."
"I don't care.. I like what I do know."
"Oh Alex!" I said, in real frustration.
"Monique, I want to get to know you better. I might even want to spend the rest of my life with you."
I looked at him, and then at Alison.
"Don't look at me, kid, you got yourself into this mess all by yourself." she said, helpfully.
"Alex, you don't want me. I can never have children." I said, pulling out some real truths.
"I don't care. .. we could adopt."
"Oh Alex, you are so obstinate." I snarled.
"Yup!" he said, grinning like a fool.
I threw my hands up in frustration, and he took hold of them.
"Monique, if that is your name. Just answer me one thing, and honestly. If the answer is no, then I will gladly turn round and walk away."
"Go on."
"Do you feel anything towards me?" he asked, and his eyes bored directly into my soul.
I tried to lie, but my voice failed me, and I felt tears come to my eyes, partly in frustration, and partly in genuine hurt. Because if I told him the truth he would certainly remain in danger.
A sob escaped from me, and he stood, and drew me into his arms.
"You do, don't you?" he asked, almost triumphantly.
I nodded, and could not trust my voice. What had happened to me?
"Okay kiddo, now you have screwed up another poor innocent, what do we do next?" Alison asked.
"We get you back to Alex's flat, and back into bed. We all have a quiet evening in tonight, as tomorrow I have to go to work." I said. We had just caught a taxi, as several police cars turned up at the hospital. They had found that Alison was missing.
Alison was clearly tired and in pain. We almost had to carry her into the flat. I put her in the other bed in my room, and changed her dressings, as I had thoughtfully brought along several spares.
None of the cuts were dreadful on their own, but together, they were very messy.
"Where were you when it went off?" I asked.
"I was going after you to the loo. Someone stood up to leave, and they took most of the blast. Poor Rich was in the brunt, it was a miracle that he survived."
"I was very lucky." I said.
"What made you follow Will?"
"Just a feeling. I was right as it happens."
"Thanks, you may just have saved my life." she said, in a very quiet voice.
"Is there anything you haven't told me?"
She shook her head, and lay back on the pillows.
"You must get the papers to Langley." she said.
"Done, and the White House, and the NSA." I said. Her eyes opened wide with surprise.
"I am surprised they haven't offered you a job."
"They have, and I accepted it." I said, with a little smile. She laughed, and then grimaced as the pain hit her.
"Nothing you do surprises me, anymore. Even if you were to become pregnant."
"Ah, that is beyond even my skills." I said, and she dozed off with a smile on her face.
I returned to the living room, Alex was standing looking at my bag.
"I'm sorry, it fell on the floor." He said.
The papers and gun were lying amongst all the money. My ID papers were in his hand.
"Who are you, really?"
I looked at him.
"Now, I am Monique Bonnard. You don't need to know who I was. Someone different, and not very nice." I said.
"Are you French, English or American?"
"Yes, I am French, English and American. My father was English, my mother French, and I work for the CIA. Happy now?"
"I thought being a doctor was glamorous."
I laughed, and put everything back in my bag, checking the gun.
"Shit! This is for real, isn't it?"
"Yes Alex, it is."
"Why can't you have children?" he asked, changing the subject rapidly.
"Because of a genetic defect. I don't have all the necessary equipment."
"I know some very skilled doctors." he said.
"Alex, later, okay? Right now I have some more pressing problems."
He smiled, and shook his head.
"This is all unreal. It is like a movie."
"Sorry Alex, this is real, no fake blood or blank firing guns in this plot."
He stared at the gun, as I slid it into my waistband.
"Have you ever used that?"
"Not this particular one, no." I said, quite honestly.
"Another one?"
I nodded.
"Have you ever killed anyone?"
"Do you really want to know?"
He nodded.
"Yes, two men." I said, "Happy now?"
He stared at me.
"You were right, I don't know you, really."
"It is not too late, we can be out of here if you say the word."
He looked at me, and I had to fight from crying, as his expression was just so damn tender.
"Could you walk away?" he asked.
"If it meant keeping you safe, yes." I lied.
"Would you?"
"Are you asking me to?"
"No, I want to know if you would."
I stared at him.
"If you wanted me to, I would." I said.
"I'm not asking. I don't want to lose you, I only just found you."
I smiled, and turned away.
"Monique."
I looked back.
"I really do think I love you, I know it is completely daft, but I do."
"I know, that is what makes it so damn difficult."
"Why?"
"Too many reasons. You are going to be hurt in any case, so, lets just get through this first, and then take each day as it comes."
He took my hands, and drew me close to him. He really was a big bloke. I felt small and weak, engulfed by his embrace. He lifted my chin, and kissed me properly for the first time.
I had enjoyed Rich's kisses, nothing prepared me for this though. I simply melted, and my whole being tingled with pleasure and desire. My response was as a woman, and I clung to him as if this was all that mattered.
When I finally came up for air, I was weak at the knees. Alex started to laugh.
"What is so funny?"
"Me! I always fancied myself as James Bond, and here I am kissing the female equivalent, so I am just one of Jane Bond's bits of male crumpet." he said.
I smiled, more at the word 'female' than anything else.
"Oh Alex, this is such a mess."
"Why?"
"It just is! Look, have we got any food in the house?
"I doubt it. I haven't bought anything."
"Then go any get us all something. Anything. Even bread and cheese would do."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
"Okay." he said, and kissed me.
I went and sat with Alison for a while.
She was in some pain, so I gave her some painkillers that I had snaffled from the hospital.
"Is it bad?"
"I just can't get comfortable."
"How about lying on your tummy?"
"I tried that, it hurts my boobs."
I started to laugh, and she joined in.
"Don't make me laugh, it hurts too much." she said, laughing more.
I took her hand.
"I'm sorry." I said.
"What for? I got into this shit all my myself."
"I guessed about Will, and let him go."
"Look, you are ten times more clued up than me, so don't beat yourself up. Okay?"
I nodded.
"What is more to the point, what the hell are you going to do with Bonnie Prince Charlie?"
"Who, Alex?"
"Who else?"
"I don't know. I have tried to put him off. Honestly, I have." I said, seeing her expression.
"Yeah, not very hard." she said.
"It is very difficult. I kinda like him a lot." I admitted.
"We don't half get ourselves in some deep shit, girl." Alison said, and we both started giggling again.
Alex returned with a superb Chinese take away, and a bottle of wine. We had a lovely meal, and he and I sat and chatted into the small hours. He held my hand, and never even tried anything further. I was relieved, but also a little disappointed, even though I could not have been more irresponsible.
Part 11.
I slept well, and woke late. Alison was in some discomfort, so I knew I would have to try to get her to medical care later.
We had a lazy day, Alex bought some bread and cheese for lunch, and we just watched TV and chatted.
At about five o'clock I stood up.
"I have to go out. I must change, and I will leave you here looking after Alison. Okay?"
"Can't I come with you?"
"No sweetie, not this time. I need you here."
He wasn't happy, but nodded.
I changed into black slacks and a black sweater. I looked very secret agentish, and had to grin at my reflection. I put a gold chain on the outside of my sweater, and the crucifix nestled between my breasts. I had a gold cord belt that made me more fashionable, and less mysterious. I put on some black high heel boots, which came over my ankles. I had the papers, the floppy, and the Glock.
I came out into the living room, and Alex was watching TV. He looked at me, and whistled.
I blushed.
"Shit, Monique, you have no idea what you do to me?"
"Don't I?" I asked.
He laughed.
I looked in on Alison, and she was fast asleep.
It was almost five o'clock.
"I have to go. I don't know how long I will be. If I don't come back, ring this number, ask for Christopher Walford. Mention my name, and tell him it is about the Thwaites papers. Okay?"
He nodded.
"Then just tell him everything you know."
"I don't know anything." he moaned.
"You know too much."
I kissed him, and left before I could change my mind.
I arrived at the Café Royale at five to six. I went in and sat at a table, and ordered a coffee.
I had been there for a few minutes when a man in a grey suit sat at the seat opposite me. I noticed he had a covert earpiece in his left ear.
"Is this seat taken?" he asked in English, he was American.
"Pardon, monsieur. Je ne parle pas anglais." I said.
He repeated the question in almost faultless French.
I smiled and shook my head.
He ordered a coffee when the waiter brought me mine.
"I am Christopher. My friends call me Chris." he said, in English.
"I'm Monique." I said, and he shook my hand.
"No English, eh? We owe you quite a lot, Monique."
"Comment?" I said, and he laughed.
He placed a buff folder on the table. I put down the coffee cup, and opened the folder. All I had asked for was in it. Three passports: - US, UK, and French, together with genuine birth certificates, and other important documents. I was now a real person again.
I opened my bag and placed the papers on the table, together with the floppy disc.
He took the disc, and placed a laptop on the table, and immediately accessed the disc.
"Holy shit!"
"What?" I asked, in English.
He smiled.
"All the financial access codes for several companies and other organisations that we are interested in. Old man Thwaites was a wily old fox, all right. Put the original papers back. You need something to give Lamb and his cronies."
I put the papers in my bag.
"Monique, who the hell are you?"
I smiled.
"Je suis Monique Bonnard." I said.
"Okay, who the hell were you?"
"That does not matter any more." I said, and he nodded.
"Will you ever tell me?"
"I may, but not yet."
He looked me up and down, and smiled.
"You have no idea of the theories that have been put forward. At one point, we even thought you could be the Thwaites kid, in disguise, but I can see that that was way off base. Then we thought you were a cousin of Matthew. But all the cousins are accounted for. So just who the hell are you?"
I just smiled, enigmatically.
"Never mind, we need to get you to the briefing." he said, and finished his coffee, and paid for both.
I followed him to the street and he opened a door to a darkened Ford people carrier.
There were four other men in the van, all white, clean cut, and all wearing suits.
"Okay, this is Monique, she is the reason we are still in the game. Monique, these guys are the best, and they will be close to you from now on." Chris said.
We drove for ten minutes, and pulled into a garage next to a private house.
Once the shutters rolled down, we got out and I followed the men into the house. Electronic equipment was everywhere, and there were about twenty people rushing about. There were several US servicemen in blacked out covert gear, and lots of guns.
"Take your sweater off, honey." said a large black man.
"Huh?" I said.
"Body armour." he said. And I took my sweater off. Luckily, I had a black slip on underneath, and I heard at least two low whistles from the servicemen.
The armour was quite light, and reasonably well fitting, and even was shaped for my female body. So when I put my sweater back on, it was hardly noticeable.
They fitted a small trans-ceiver to my bra, and I felt more and more like a secret agent. I watched as they slipped a plain piece of paper into the documents.
"There is a mini transmitter built into the paper. We can track wherever the paper goes." the man said.
Chris came over with a 9mm Smith and Wesson SLP.
"Okay Monique, do you know how to use one of these?" he asked.
I calmly took out my Glock.
"Yes, but I prefer mine." I answered. Several of the observers laughed, and Chris smiled.
"Okay, here's how we play this." he said, and then explained how we would try to trap Lamb.
"What about Aziz and Vine?" I asked, and they all looked at me.
"What about them?"
"They are in Zurich too." I said.
"How do you know?"
"I saw Vine at the hospital, just before I took Alison Glover out from under everyone's noses. He mentioned Aziz when briefing one of the Arabs."
"Why didn't you tell us this?"
"It happened after I called you." I said.
"How do you know Vine?"
"He introduced himself to Alison. I was in the room dressed as a nurse at the time."
Chris laughed and shook his head.
"Shit girl, we don't deserve you. Are you for real?"
"Aziz and Vine are at a hotel, somewhere in Zurich. Vine is here as a Met Police representative, or at least that is what he told Alison." I added.
"Got it chief." said one of the technicians on a computer terminal.
I watched amazed as they hacked into all the hotel databases, and found Vine registered at the Hilton. Aziz wasn't registered anywhere, but that meant nothing.. . . He was here somewhere.
A team immediately left for the Hilton, and I was impressed by their efficiency.
Soon it was time. I was driven in the same Ford to within a couple of blocks of the Opera House. Before I got out, Chris said, "Okay, kid. There are plenty of our guys in the building, and you are wired for sound. Take no chances, just hand over the documents." He paused.
"They will try to kill me, won't they?" I asked, and he nodded.
"They tried before, so they will wait for you to leave, then try something. We will ensure that people will be around you at all times."
I smiled, a little nervously.
"Thanks, I think."
I got out of the car, and walked to the Opera House, I went up the steps, and into the huge entrance lobby. A performance was in progress, and a flunky came up to me. I explained I was waiting for someone, and had no intention of trying to sneak in. He smiled indulgently, and left me alone. There were several people, like me, just milling about.
I sat on a chair, and waited. I didn't have to wait long.
"Monique?"
I looked up. He was about forty and balding. He was overweight, and sweating, despite its being a cool evening. I looked round. Two Arabic looking men were reading a notice board outside.
"Monsieur Lamb?"
"You have the papers?"
I simply took them out of the bag, and handed them over.
"It is a relief to get rid of them." I said.
"I'll bet it is." he said, with a nervous smile. "By the way, do you happen to know where Matthew is?"
"Non! The last I saw him, he was going to a friend's house in Wales." I said.
"How come he sent you to get these?"
"I had a passport, he did not. He trusts me, I am family."
At that moment two men approached. Both were wearing long dark overcoats, and one was definitely Middle Eastern. The other was Vine. I just pretended to pay them no attention.
Lamb handed over the documents to the Arab, I believed him to be Aziz.
"These are my associates." Lamb said, still sweating.
The man examined the papers.
"Is this everything?" he asked. It was the same voice that I had heard in dad's study.
I nodded.
"Zat is all he gave me." I said.
Aziz nodded to Vine, and turned and walked out. Vine smiled at me.