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

Part 21.

Sunday was very quiet, so I managed to do my washing. Gary came over to see if I wanted to go to a movie. I declined, as I had a veritable mountain of ironing. So, instead, he stayed and kept me company as I ironed. It was clear he was falling for me, as he sacrificed seeing Men in Black II to watch me iron my underwear. Mind you, I did have some very sexy underwear.

Boys were not allowed upstairs in the house, neither were they allowed between 9pm and 7am. So as he sat on the windowsill in the utility room, his presence was the subject of much speculation and rumour amongst the other girls.

As I was ironing, I took a call from Chris. He told me that they had found Aziz’s house, and had surveillance in place. The man I had seen with him was known to the company, the FBI, and several police forces, for various offences relating to firearms and handling stolen goods. A surveillance team was on his tail as well, so my instructions were just to sit tight, and carry on as normal.

“Who was that?”

“Just a friend, wanting to know if I am free next week.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “I have to be honest, Monique, I find myself with feelings towards you.”

“I had guessed. I may not be American, but I am pretty sharp,” I said, and he laughed.

“The guy in England, just how serious is it?”

I looked at him, and he was desperately earnest.

“Last night, on the phone, he asked me to marry him again.”

“Oh. And what did you say?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh. Have I got a chance?”

“Gary, don’t get me wrong, I like you, but I am strictly faithful. Alex and I share a lot. I won’t betray him, so please do not ask me to. I am happy to be a friend, but I will not be anything more. Okay?”

He nodded, clearly disappointed.

“It’s just that in the last three years, you are the only girl I’ve found to have the qualities I value. You’re beautiful, intelligent, funny and responsible about your body,” he said.

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“But, I’d be pleased to have you as a friend,” he said, smiling gently.

We chatted about many things, once the rather heavy subject was dealt with. I felt that he would still try to develop our relationship to something more.

As far as the rest of the girls in the house were concerned, we were an item from that moment. Stacey and Rachel knew the realities of life, but actually, it was quite useful. Young men constantly pestered me, eager to get to know me better, and as soon as they understood that I was ‘seeing’ the biggest and strongest young man on campus, they left me alone.

Gary would take every opportunity to walk with me across campus, even if it meant going out of his way. I found it quite flattering and a good smokescreen. One day he stated he was going to a tutorial at Mr Iqbal’s house, and did I want to go to a movie afterwards?

I agreed, and said I would meet him at the house and go on from there.

So, after notifying my control, I collected a small package off one of the ‘ground staff’ and set off for the house on First Avenue. I was dressed completely differently to that evening in Zurich. Then, I had been in dark slacks and dark top, so this time I was in a short brightly coloured skirt, long boots and a bright woolly sweater. My hair was red, and I wore wraparound sunglasses to keep the autumn sun out of my eyes. I had a long woollen scarf, which had every colour of the rainbow on it.

I found the house, and waited outside. I managed to place the magnetic bug under the car parked on the driveway. Then I noticed a telephone company van just a block away, with an engineer up a pole.

No prizes for guessing who they were!

A few minutes after I arrived the tutorial finished, and about ten students left the house. Gary was one of the first out. He was eager to be with me, his soppy grin said it all. I allowed him to kiss me, and noticed Aziz’s face peering out the window at us. His glance swept over us, and rested on the Phone company van down the road.

I took my mobile out and call in. Gary was chatting aimlessly about the plans for the evening.

“Hi. It’s Monique, you are made, he fancies you,” I said.

“He’s made the van?”

“Yes, he really noticed you at lunch. I think he will try something soon,” I said.

“Good work. Did you put the item in place?” the voice said.

“Yes, of course,” I said, and the line went dead.

I waffled on as if I was talking to a girl friend, and then finished.

“Who was that?” Gary asked.

“Stacey. There is a guy hitting on her.”

“Oh,” he said, and lost interest. I took his arm and we walked to his car. As we drove out, past the house, I noticed the telephone van leaving. The face was once more at the window, watching the van as well.

“So, how as your tutorial?” I asked.

“Okay, I guess. I’m not sure that I understand the Arabs,” he pronounced them Ay-rabs, as many Americans were prone to.

“Is your tutor interesting?”

“Mr Aziz? He’s okay I guess. He seemed distracted today. He is obviously waiting for someone, but hey, we got off early. So who’s complaining?”

We arrived at the movie theatre, and I went to the ladies and phoned in again.

“Our man is nervous, it seems he is waiting for someone or something,” I said.

“Got it. Thanks.”

I returned to Gary in the lobby and we went and took our seats. He was quite pleased, as now he got to see MIB II.

His arms appeared across my shoulders just after the titles finished, and stayed there for the duration. Occasionally, he tried a little caressing and a fumble, but I was not either in the mood, or willing to get in the mood. But the movie was good, and we went for a meal afterwards at a local House of Pancakes.

As we returned to campus, we drove down First Avenue, and as soon as I saw the flashing emergency lights, I knew something had gone wrong.

We were stopped by a police unit, who had put a cordon across the road.

There were three fire trucks and an ambulance outside Aziz’s house, several police cars and a few plain cars.

“What happened officer?” Gary asked.

“Nothing to worry about, son. Just turn round and find another route,” said the state trooper.

We had no choice, and eventually Gary dropped me at the house. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he just smiled.

“Thanks for coming out with me. It’s been good,” he said.

“I enjoyed it, but please realise, I really am spoken for,” I said.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Monique, I guess I keep hoping that you and I could get it together.”

“Gary, you are sweet, and under different circumstances, I would be flattered. But, right now, I have to say no. Just friends, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, and kissed my cheek.

I smiled and went in.

I went to my room, close the door, and called in. Chris answered.

“I’m back. What happened?”

“Our man made a bolt for it, and we managed to get a tail on him. A team was about to go in to his address, when it blew up. A couple of the guys were hurt, but not seriously,” he told me.

“Where has he gone?”

“He got to the airport, and we lost him.”

“Chris. How stupid was that?”

“I don’t need a lecture from you, girl,” he said.

“Okay, so what do I do now?”

“Stay there for the semester. In case he makes contact with any of his students.”

“Shit, you have no idea how difficult it is to keep this bloody accent up,” I said.

“Then just get better with English, and lose the accent gradually.”

“Thanks chum,” I said, and he laughed.

“We will call you if we get a trace.”

“Okay.”

I rang off.

I took off my coat, and was just trying to get my head round what had happened, when there was a knock on my door. I opened it; it was Stacey.

“Hi, Monique, I thought I heard you come in. Have you heard what happened?”

“What about? We saw the fire trucks in First Avenue. It was Mr Iqbal’s house, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, did they tell you what happened?”

“No, a policeman told us to go another way.”

“Oh, damn. Still, how did the date go?”

“Okay, the movie was good, and we had a nice meal.”

“Did Gary try anything?”

“A little, but I wasn’t playing.”

“Spoilsport.”

“I know, but that’s the way I am.”

“Alex is a very lucky guy.”

“So he keeps telling me.”

“Hey your English is better. Your accent is less pronounced.”

“They said that would happen. As I speak it all the time, and hear it as it should be, I guess, I just change the way I speak. Already, I have learned to think in English, instead of translating everything first.”

“That’s cool. Hey, maybe you could teach me French.”

“Okay, but you will have to come to France to learn properly.”

“That’s a deal.”

The next day, the campus was rife with rumours about what had happened. As September the 11^th was already recent history, speculation about ‘Mr Iqbal’s’ affiliation to various terrorist groups was the main topic of conversation.

I asked Gary for his opinion, and he just shrugged. He didn’t have one, the guy just set assignments and corrected his papers. He could have been a terrorist, or a Baptist minister for all he knew.

I just got on with being a student, and before I knew it, the Christmas break was upon us.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” Stacey asked.

“I’ve been asked to go to Scotland for Christmas,” I said, with a smile.

“Oh. I get it. Alex’s last Christmas before he goes into the Army?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, if it blows out, you can always come and stay with us. I know Mom and Daddy would love to have you.”

“Thanks Stacey, I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Are you coming back in the New Year?”

“I don’t know. It depends on the college board.”

“I’ll miss you if you go back to France,” she admitted.

“Hey, you get your degree this year, and then you do what you want.”

I was walking back to the house one chilly afternoon, when a blacked out Ford UV pulled up alongside me.

“Jump in then, girl,” said Chris.

I got in the back. There were three others, including Chris, already in the vehicle.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“Pretty good. There is no news about our man, no one knows anything.”

“We have traced him to South America. He is in Columbia.”

“Oh, I can’t help there, my Spanish is bloody awful.”

“We don’t want you to. We want you to stay here.”

“Why?”

“Because your assignments have given the faculty some problems.” Chris said with a smile.

I frowned.

“Oh?”

“You see, your cover is so perfect, they really believe you are French, and they have even contacted your sending college in France, the one we arranged this charade through. They want you to stay on, and finish the year.”

“Why?”

“Because your results in the assignments and essays are the best they have had in years. If you last until June, then they will give you a diploma.”

I stared at him, completely flabbergasted.

“But I have only done a few months.”

“Don’t knock it kid. They are going to award you a special diploma, for an overseas student.”

“Shit,” I said.

“That is a fine example of our fine education we are paying for,” he said, with a grin.

“I don’t understand.”

“It is all a matter of politics and publicity. The students they get from overseas bring in extra revenue. If they are seen to give out valid qualifications to foreign students, then they may attract more, and more students means more money, which means…”

“Okay, the capitalist dream, I get it now. So I am just a pawn?”

“Maybe, but you get to walk away with a diploma in American studies. And for what, eight months work?”

I grinned.

“So am I allowed to?”

“The Director reckons you need to further your education, and he has authorised it. So from now on, you are just a student.”

“Cool,” I said, and I couldn’t wait to ring Alex.

since 11/24/04