RED HEAT - PT 4 4:00 AM, March 17th, Amsterdam, NL The soft golden lights from the Inter Continental Hotel reflected in the slow rippling waves of the Amstel River. It was a chilly night and, oddly, in a city known for its nightlife, there was no one about, except for an old man, who was walking his dog and a newly wed couple sitting together on a bench next to the river. The phone rang, waking Jim Henderson. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off his hangover. "What a night" He thought to himself as he reached for the phone. "It's still night." Suddenly nauseous, he put the phone to his ear. "Jim, you've been made. Get out of there NOW!" He sprang up from the bed, now completely sober and awake. He pulled on the same clothes he'd been wearing the night before, checked his gun for ammunition, slid it into his holster and ran next door to warn his partner. "Phil we gotta…" The door opened as he knocked on it, revealing the blood covered body of Phil Settle his partner. He kneeled down beside him checking his pulse, realizing Phil had no idea who he was. Phil grabbed his arm to pull himself up. Phil made a gurgling sound, trying to speak, as the blood gushed from his neck. Phil's eyes shifted to the doorway behind him and widened in horror. Jim turned just as the two muffled shots from the silenced pistol exploded the side of his head. The man stooped to pick up the shell casings before pulling an envelope from Jim's jacket pocket. He quickly checked Jim for anything else that might be of use, then exited. 11:00 PM, March 16th, Langley, Virginia Harold Johnson, Deputy Director Operations, CIA, was reading quietly by the fireplace in his Virginia home. He was in his late forties, his hair was almost all white with only a few traces of black remaining. The white hair came with the job. He was casually sipping red wine from the glass on the table. The piercing tone of his desk phone startled his wife awake. Carolyn Johnson reached for the phone before realizing it was the other phone, his phone, which could only mean trouble at this time of night. "Excuse me babe" He whispered pushing the on button on the phone. "I'll be upstairs." She said picking up the magazine on the end table. "DDO" "Switch to secure line Gamma." Harold entered his cipher key into the keypad on the phone. "This is Harold. What do you have John?" "Director, Phalanx has been compromised." "Again? How?" "We're not sure yet. We've sent a driver for you?" "Would you contact the FBI, I think this has become a matter for Homeland Security as well." "Yes Sir." Harold hung up the phone and went upstairs to change. Carolyn pretended to be asleep, so he wouldn't have to make an excuse. She knew he would be out all night. 11:37 PM, CIA Situation Room 402, Langley, Virginia Five men sat around the long rectangular conference table. The room was underground in a hardened bunker. Although the decorators had done their best to make the place look warm and inviting, nothing could quite cover the coldness of being in a nuclear hardened bunker, twelve stories below ground. John Rodgers Senior Intelligence Analyst stood up to call the meeting to attention. "Sorry for the late evening, but we have a problem. At the request of the DDO, we would like to welcome FBI Director Ronald Goldyn and Special Agent Peter Conrad, to this briefing." The three analysts nodded to the newcomers. John continued as the photos of the two dead agents appeared on the screen. "Last night, two more of our operatives were found murdered in their hotel rooms in Amsterdam. That brings us to a total of four agents killed in the last four months. According to the last report we received from Agent Henderson, he and Agent Settle had managed to make contact with one of Simanovich's upper level contacts." The picture changed to a photo of a tall gaunt man with jet-black hair and slightly receding hairline. Some sketchy biographical information appeared next to the picture. "This is Darius Simanovich. Here is what we know about this man. We believe him to be in his late forties to early fifties. He is of Lithuanian decent. His SVR profile indicates he is highly intelligent and motivated. He is a former Red Fleet sub captain. We know he is behind both incidents, but we have no evidence to positively link him. As before, our Cleaner teams found no evidence at either of the sites." The picture changed to a photo of a Russian sub. "Director Goldyn, Agent Conrad, In the interest of Homeland Security, you have been granted clearance for Operation Phalanx. What we are about to discuss is coded SCI. Last week, the Russian Typhoon class ballistic missile sub Dmitrij Donskoj was hi-jacked and we have information indicating the launch codes have been compromised." "I thought they had disarmed their SLBM's", another analyst asked. "According to the SVR, the warheads are inert, but given his history and experience, we have to assume he can re-arm them." "What is his motive?" Ronald Goldyn asked. "We killed his son." Rodgers paused for effect. "Or at least that is what he believes. He was the captain of a Soviet sub, which engaged and sunk two of our subs off the eastern seaboard in 1972. He lost his boat and most of his crew, including his son. He holds us responsible." John Rodgers continued to explain. Peter took notes as he listened to the briefing. What he couldn't figure out, is why he was here. He had no experience in these types of things and he wasn't exactly at the top of anyone's list these days after the fiasco in the Caymen's. "Director Goldyn, any city on the East Coast should be considered a target. The range of those missiles is twenty-three hundred miles. He doesn't even have to be close. The SVR is trying to confirm just how many missiles were aboard, but assuming the worst, figure six MIRV's for each of the twenty-four missiles, that's one hundred and forty-four possible targets. Our guess is that it will be a naval target possibly King's Bay or Norfolk." "Our sub bases? Can't the Navy, either ours or theirs find it and sink it?" The annoying analyst asked again. "They are trying, but soon after the hi-jacking, the ship disappeared from the Plot Room display in Northern Fleet Command. Some one removed the transponder. The Russians don't know where the ship is and neither do we. We have sortied every attack sub on the East Coast as well as the Reagan's ASW planes. We may get lucky and find it, but we can't afford to wait for that. We need to take Darius out and soon. So far all of our attempts have met with disaster. We need some options. We will meet again in twenty-four hours. We're adjourned." The group got up and after some post meeting chatter, began to leave the room. "Peter, Director Goldyn, could you wait a moment please?" Harold Johnson called from behind them. "I'll catch up with you later John." John nodded and left the room. The FBI agents sat back down at the table. "Homeland Security is not the only reason I've asked you here. Peter, we need your help, specifically yours Peter." Harold continued. "With all due respect, I'm not a Counterintelligence Agent. I specialize in kidnapping, negotiations and fraud investigations, this is over my head. I don't see what I could offer here." "You're here, because we are out of options." Harold responded "We received a report from Agent Henderson earlier this evening, from what we can figure, about three hours before his death. His message contained information from a SVR agent who has infiltrated Darius' group. What I'm about to tell you, stays between us for now, not even my own people know about this yet. I and a few others suspect that he has someone on the inside here. His ability to sniff out our operatives so quickly can't be a coincidence. From what we know of his organization, it is mostly made up of women. I believe that another attempt to infiltrate his organization will only result in more dead agents. We need someone from the outside. I am hoping that you may know some people with the skills to help us." Peter's face began to droop. Everything started to come back to him along with the realization of why he had been invited to this meeting. The week he had spent being held by Jill and those women had almost ruined his career, not to mention the humiliation. Peter was not the kind of man who liked being had and being betrayed by an agent who he trusted, made it even worse. Having to relive it in front of the Director made him nauseous. "Peter. We need you to locate Ms. Hansen and set up a meet between her organization and the CIA?" They still hadn't quite figured out how much damage Tammy and Jill had done to the FBI, nor had they been able to fully prove that they had any involvement with the hi-jacking of the ship. It had taken him six months of regression hypnosis, to even remember who Jill Hansen was. He finally was able to deal with what happened to him and this man wanted him to go back for more? "Peter?" Harold spoke more firmly. The robbery haunted him, but it was nothing compared to someone wiping out a city with a nuclear device. "I think I can find her." "I wouldn't want to say that you were our only hope, but it's getting close to that. Do your best." "We will meet again after Peter has made contact." Harold Johnson showed them to the lobby and headed back to his office. Peter sat in his car feeling pretty dejected. He took his cell phone from his jacket pocket and called the only number he had for Jill Hansen. He started to feel even worse as he heard her voice, even though it was just voice mail. He left her a message asking if they could meet, then started his drive home. Peter stopped for gas and went inside to buy his dinner. He came back a few minutes later with a six-pack, a roll of toilet paper and some really scary pre-made sandwiches. He opened the door of his car and tossed the stuff into the passenger seat without even looking. He started the car and was about to put the car into gear. He checked the rear view mirror and saw Jill's face glaring back at him from the backseat. "I told you what I'd do to you if you ever came looking for me." "It's not…" He heard the puff of the tranquilizer gun and tried to pull out the dart before collapsing on the front seat. He woke up bare naked with a nasty headache. He looked around for his clothes, but couldn't find them. He tried the door, but it was locked. He sat back on the bed and rubbed his forehead. "It leaves you with a nasty headache doesn't it?" Jill Hansen, the twenty-eight year old, short brown haired, woman walked out of the next room wearing a black evening dress, holding his clothes in her arm. She tossed his pants at him and walked to her dressing table. She took off her necklace and set it on the table and started to undress. "Jill, this is not a setup." "I know, I checked, you're clean." She interrupted as she dropped her dress to the floor revealing her crotchless sheer body stocking, smiling as she glanced back at him. He looked down at the floor trying to ignore her as she grabbed a lotion bottle and squirted some lotion on her hands. She sat down beside him on the bed rubbing the lotion into her hands. Peter couldn't help being slightly aroused by her as she reached down and touched his arm. He pulled away remembering the humiliation he felt in the briefing. "Aw, you're not still upset about before are you?" She pouted leaning in really close to him. She reached down and touched his cock. For some reason he didn't pull away this time. "Do you want to catch up first, or just tell me why you're here?" "I've been asked to ask you to set up a meet between…" The lotion felt warm on his cock. "Cynthia?" "Yes and the CIA." He stuttered as he responded to her massage. "Why?" "I don't know details." "I'm going to have to try to find out what you know anyway?" "I know." He said a slight smirk appearing on his face as his penis snapped to attention. She let out a small giggle and continued to rub cock. "You've been looking forward to this haven't you?" "I..No…" His cock began to tingle and burn. "What did you do?" "I used the slow acting formula so we can have some fun before you take your nap." "Why do you have to do this?" "Because the path to your brain, like all men, runs through your dick. You control the dick, you control the brain. I know you probably feel pretty emasculated after what we did to you, so I'll tell you what. You can be the man this time." She lay back on the bed and spread her legs. "Come on." She said motioning with her finger. "It's not like you have much of a choice anyway." Peter just gave in. She had gotten the best of him again and there was no point fighting it. But if it was going to happen, he'd might as well enjoy it. He climbed on top of her and began to thrust into her as hard as he could. His face was filled with a mild rage. Maybe he could at least cause her some pain. An evil smile came over her face as she gritted her teeth and moaned with each thrust. "Is that all you've got. Harder!" He had an intense look of determination on his face, but it slowly started to change as the lotion kicked in. She watched his face, enjoying his helplessness, knowing he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. Jill orgasmed with a loud scream and her muscles tightened down on him sending him over the edge. He barely pulled out of her in time before exploding all over her. Jill rolled out of the way as he fell forward onto the bed. "Tell me everything." She whispered into his ear as she lay beside him. After five minutes she knew every thing he did and picked up the phone beside the bed. "I need to speak to Cynthia." RED HEAT - PT 5 The black government sedan was completely out of place as it pulled into a parking spot underneath the red neon sign. The two agents got out and gave each other a puzzled glance. Rob Walker and James Simms pushed the beaded strings aside and walked over to the stage. It was dark and the colored lights reflected the smoke from the fog machines. The rhythmic beat of the music was so loud Rob could feel his pants legs moving. On stage was Erin, the twenty-three year old blonde. She wore a cowgirl hat, a flimsy white shirt, black leather chaps, black leather boots, and a white G- String. She had silver pistols in each of her hands and was pretending to shoot the on-looking crowd as she danced. James pointed to the empty table next to the stage and they both sat down. A tall brown haired waitress in an extremely short skirt came up to take their order. "What can I get you?" holding her drink tray at her side, with her hand on her hip. "Water, for both of us." Rob answered. "Yeah sure." She frowned back and walked away muttering to herself Erin had stripped off everything but the chaps and G-string and was skillfully working the pole in the center of the stage. Every minute or so walking to the edges of the stage to collect money from the drooling men. "Is that her?" James yelled into Rob's ear. "Let's find out." He pulled a twenty out of his pocket and waved it up for Erin to see. Erin ripped the chaps off in a single motion to the applause of the on-lookers, then crawled over to where the agents were sitting. She turned around so Rob could put the twenty into her G-string, then she rolled onto her back and pulled aside her G-string to give them a flash of her shaved pussy. Both agents were slightly aroused, but definitely in control. Erin winked at them then strutted to the back end of the stage where she handed the twenty to Lori, the six-foot- two redhead, who was standing off stage at the lighting console. Lori flipped the twenty over and read the scribbled note then picked up the red phone by the console and dialed Cynthia's office. "Cynthia." "They're here" "Proceed as planned." Lori hung up the phone and glanced at Erin. Erin held up two fingers and Lori nodded back. She slid her long painted fingernail across the console and pressed the button marked "T2." The centerpiece on the table hissed, barely audible over the music. A light mist sprayed, clouding the air. Rob noticed it too late, trying to cover his mouth. He glanced at James, who tried to back away before they both slowly slumped over onto the table. Jenna, the twenty-nine-year-old brunette, weaved her way through the tables, catching the eye of a few patrons in her red leather hotpants, matching red leather top, and a black studded leather collar. The waitress met her at the table. "Just this one." Jenna pointed to Rob. Rob woke up in a small room. His pants were balled up on the table next to him along with an empty syringe. His right shirtsleeve had been rolled up and his body was burning all over. Jenna was sitting on top of him, positioned to make just enough contact with his throbbing cock. He was burning up and extremely horny. The feel of her flesh and the leather grinding against his cock was breaking down any resistance he might have had. "Why don't you tell me who you work for?" "CIA" "Details." "I can only give details after..." Jenna stopped her motions and he began to breathe heavily, the warm sensations increasing. "You'll give me whatever I ask for. No more until you answer the question." "We need your help. I was told to meet my contact here." He let out a sigh as she started grinding him again. "OK." Jenna stopped abruptly and got off of him. She walked over to the table. What ever she had given him made his cock burn, he couldn't take it anymore. He reached down to jerk himself off. She turned back around and gave him a disapproving stare. She shook her finger at him. "Ooh, that's a naughty boy. Didn't anyone tell you that'll make you go blind?" She lifted the palm sized aerosol can and released a swirling cloud of pink gas into his face. His eyelids got heavy then closed. He awoke fully dressed sitting at a large black circular table. On the other side sat Cynthia Conelly, the woman in charge. She was a thirty-six-year-old well-proportioned woman with short black hair and brown eyes. She was dressed in a skin-tight black rubber catsuit, which was partially unzipped. Next to her was Jenna, still dressed in red leather. Rob sat up quickly checking for his gun. Jenna laughed and set his weapon on the table. "He's been checked for transmitters and other naughty things he shouldn't have. He's clean." Jenna reported to Cynthia. "Good." Looking back at Rob "What did you want to talk about? You said you need our help?" He struggled to get comfortable, which was difficult because he still had a raging hard-on. The drug hadn't worn off yet and all he could think about Jenna's ass, or maybe her and Cynthia together or maybe… "Pull it together honey." Cynthia said reading his body language. Rob focussed and managed to get it out. "We lost two of our agents last week in Amsterdam. They were attempting to infiltrate a crime syndicate run by Darius Simanovich. We believe he is planning a major attack on our interests both here and overseas. All attempts to infiltrate his organization have failed. We believe we may have a mole." "What makes you think we can help?" "You have a reputation for being able to get men to do what you want." "It's not that difficult." Jenna winked at him delighting in his discomfort. "What's in it for us?" "A chance to serve your country and save lives." Cynthia started to stand up. "And…" She stopped. "An immunity deal for you and your friends." "Immunity for what?" Cynthia blasted back. "Our friends at the FBI tell us that you may be in possession of a large sum of money that doesn't belong to you." "That's a horrible accusation. Do you have any proof?" "The FBI has a fairly strong case. But if you were to help us, we could guarantee no one would look any further." "An interesting proposition. Give me forty-eight hours." "Shall I come back here then?" "Baby, in a few hours, you're not going to remember where "here" is. We'll find you." Jenna and Cynthia got up from the table. Cynthia whispered something to Jenna and Jenna spoke into her radio. "Where are my manners? You shelled out fifty dollars for a cover and you haven't even seen a single show. Since we don't like to leave our customers unsatisfied, how about a complimentary lap dance?" Seconds later Beth and Christina Roberts, the blonde nineteen-year- old twins arrived. "Follow me" Beth said leading him by his arm. They had just finished with their schoolgirl routine, a favorite at the club. Beth wore a red plaid skirt, thigh-high white stockings, black patent leather shoes and a see through white blouse. They led him into the Members Only Room, which was currently unoccupied. "Sit." Beth pushing Rob down into the chair. She unbuttoned the shirt and let it fall open exposing her firm breasts. She began to rock her hips from side to side just barely making contact with his crotch. Christina darted her tongue in his ear and began whispering to him while Beth danced. "You like my sister? I bet you'd like to fuck that ass wouldn't you?" Beth turned around and pulled her skirt up revealing her white panties, which were riding up into her ass. Rob was about ready to burst. Christina continued to tongue his ear. Beth sat down on his lap facing away from him and rubbed her ass tightly against his crotch. Rob groaned and felt a warm wet sensation spread in his pants. "I bet that felt soooo good…Soooo relaxing." Christina whispered in his ear. Rob started to feel extremely tired. Just as his eyes began to close, he became aware of why. Christina had uncapped a small tube and had been holding it under his nose with her other hand. Why hadn't he noticed that? He was better than this. The odor is… "Sleep." And then it went black. RED HEAT - PT 6 Jenna was perched on the roof of the office building directly across the street from the diner. A black sedan stopped in front of the diner. Agents Rob Walker and James Simms exited the sedan quickly checked the area, then motioned for Director Johnson to follow. Jenna trained her binoculars on the men as they entered the diner. She lingered on Rob Walker, thinking about his interrogation at the club. She kind of felt bad about what she did to him, which was very odd for her. Remorse was just something she didn't feel when it came to men. These men deserved what they got. It was her goal to make them feel just as helpless as she had when she… She shook her head and cleared those thoughts from her head and focussed on her job. She waited for them to go inside, then continued to scan the area for anything out of the ordinary. Rob removed his black sunglasses and tucked them into the pocket on his jacket. He immediately noticed that the whole diner was empty. Christina Roberts pushed through the swinging door wearing a pink waitress uniform. As was the standard method of operation, the uniform had been modified to show off as much of her body as possible. Even Director Johnson was taken in by the sight of her smooth teen-aged legs as she sauntered up to the table. "What can I get you?" Christina asked. "I'll take a number six." "And you?" "The same for all of us." Harold responded. Christina walked back to the kitchen with a little extra swing in her hips. She loved the look of embarrassment she got when she caught men looking at her ass. Once in the kitchen, she radioed Cynthia that contact had been made. One of the waiters was conscious and had started to get up. "Don't waste your effort." She said as she sprayed him with her aerosol can knocking him out again. She moved around to the rest of the diner employees and gave them each a blast just to make sure. Up on the roof, Jenna made one last sweep with her binoculars. She smiled as she spotted the construction worker who was working on the traffic light. "Beth, would you put the gentleman on the corner down for his nap please?" "You got it." The static crackling as she spoke back over the radio. Jenna watched from above as Beth Roberts rounded the corner in her navy blue spandex jogging suit. The unsuspecting agent, dressed in an orange vest, continued to pretend to work on the traffic light timing system. Beth adjusted her path to insure a collision. She slammed into him. The agent grabbed her trying to prevent their fall, but he ended up pulling her down on top of him. "I'm so sorry." Beth said sympathetically. "I didn't see you there." The stunned agent looked at his palms, examining the oily substance, which had rubbed off of Beth's jogging suit. "That's alright. I'm…" The agent fell backwards making a dull thump as his head hit the sidewalk. Beth searched through his pockets and found his badge. "FBI" she said into her transmitter FBI, no one mentioned this, it had to be a setup. Jenna immediately scanned again. There had to be more. She was right as she spotted the plain white box truck in the alley behind the diner. "Lori, check that truck in the alley to your right. I believe you'll find an FBI surveillance team inside." Lori, the ex-Marine, snuck up behind the van, careful not to be seen in the side mirrors. She was dressed in the standard skin-tight black rubber catsuit. Her mouth was covered with a half-face respirator and she wore a SCUBA like tank on her back, which connected to a silver wand. The sliding door snapped upward like a window shade catching the surveillance team by surprise. Lori depressed the trigger on the wand and sprayed the whole van down with pale blue gas. Everyone in the truck began to cough, followed by moans, then finally silence as they all succumbed to the gas. Lori let the gas clear then closed the door to the truck. Lori checked the surveillance monitors and located the other two agents who were across the street in the lobby of the building Jenna occupied. "Jenna, there are four here, all FBI. You have two more unwanted guests below you in the lobby. " "Roger that." Jenna switched to channel two. "Cindy, I think we've been setup. There are FBI agents outside. I am neutralizing the last two now." Jenna exited the stairwell and made her way towards the lobby. She smiled at the male receptionist. He had seen her exit from the roof and he needed to be neutralized, which shouldn't be a problem considering he was already drooling. He couldn't stop staring at her. "Take a picture it will last longer." She said sarcastically. "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?" "Actually there is." Jenna responded. He leaned closer to her to hear her request. She unhooked one of her two atomizers from her belt and spritzed him in the face. He shot a load of cum into his pants and slowly collapsed behind the desk with a huge smile on his face. "You can sleep and forget you ever saw me." Jenna turned her attention towards the two agents in the lobby. Sooner or later, they would figure out they had lost communication with the truck. The agent on the left was watching the diner through his binoculars. He saw Cynthia walking towards the diner. The other agent was trying to relay the information to the truck on the radio. "Echo leader, main target spotted." He paused. "Echo leader respond." "Shhh, you'll wake them up." Jenna whispered unhooking her second atomizer, leaning between them. Both agents turned to look at her. She held an atomizer up to each man's face and spritzed them both simultaneously. Both men came at about the same time and slowly slouched forward in their chairs. Jenna bit her lip as the tingling sensation built within her. She began to rub her hand against her crotch letting out a sigh as she surveyed her work. So much for remorse. Christina, Cynthia, and Lori exited from the kitchen, followed shortly by Jenna. Cynthia pulled out the fourth chair and sat down while Jenna, Christina and Lori took up positions behind the men. "You set us up!" "I don't know what you mean." James spoke. "You've got fifteen seconds to explain why the FBI is outside or the deal's off." Cynthia nodded at Christina who immediately spritzed James in the face. His hips involuntarily lurched. He had just a few seconds to notice the widening stain on the front of his pants before he passed out. "Five seconds." Cynthia stated coldly. "I assure you we had no idea why they are here. They must be operating independently." Harold frantically responded. "Let's find out what you know." Jenna removed a syringe containing her special yellow liquid. She tapped the sides to clear the bubbles, squeezed a little out of the top and grabbed Harold's arm firmly. "Cynthia please, his heart won't take that." Rob pleaded, vividly remembering his experience from the club. "We had no idea the FBI was here. If you need proof then do it to me." "With pleasure." Jenna said, a mischievous smile broadening on her face. She moved over to Rob and was about to inject him when Cynthia stopped her. "That won't be necessary." "Who ever sent them did so with out authorization and will be dealt with accordingly, now can we get back to business. Just in case you have any doubts, I had the AG write this up. Here is your deal." Harold pulled a manila envelope from his briefcase and laid it on the table. "I have a written document signed by the President and the Attorney General, giving you immunity from the afore mentioned crime in exchange for your help on this matter." Cynthia opened the envelope and read through it. After a couple of minutes she passed the letter to Jenna and focussed her attention back on the two men. "Satisfactory. Let's talk details. Someone can fill him in when he wakes up." "Before we start, is this room secure?" Harold asked. "Completely." Jenna said draping herself around him and pressing her face against his cheek. She felt his heart start to beat faster. Cynthia smiled and then nodded to Harold. They traded files and discussed the plans for the operation. "Here are my terms. I want access to all the intelligence you have on Darius Simanovich, plus access to real time satellite imagery during the operation. I will contact you when the job is done." "Unacceptable. I can't allow you access to our imaging systems. You'll have to take my people with you." Harold snapped back. "We work alone." Cynthia responded, starting to get angry. "Intelligence? Fine! You want satellite support, however, you take at least two of my people." Harold answered keeping his cool. "Fine. These two then." She pointed to Rob and James. "They don't have the training for the KH series." "You better train them fast then." Cynthia nodded at Rob. "I like him. He seems to have his head on straight." Maybe not, but at least I can control him, she thought. "OK Deal. Agent Walker, although I am giving you operational control of this mission from the CIA standpoint, you will follow her orders once in Amsterdam. Are we clear?" "Yes Director." Cynthia and Harold shook hands, then Cynthia signed the immunity agreement. He left a copy with her and put the second copy back in his briefcase. Christina handed Cynthia her briefcase and she took out her operational plans. "One of our operatives is setting up a meet with one of Simanovich's contacts as we speak. We'll need to change things a bit since we have these two. Our cover will be as follows: Agent Walker, congratulations, you and Jenna have just been married and are on your honeymoon. Sleeping Beauty here will use the same cover with Lori. We leave from New York tonight for Paris, once there we will travel to Amsterdam via rail. We will cover the rest of the details en- route." "That's more than I need to know. You work out the details as you see fit. I urge you to incorporate Agent Walkers expertise. Agent Walker will fill you in on the latest intelligence. I hope you are as good as your infamous reputation." James lifted his head from the table and looked around trying to get his bearings. Rob helped him up and the three men left the diner.