“The first thing we need to do,” Daniel announced placing his fork down as punctuation and leaning back in his seat as we ate a quiet lunch at a small café in the heart Damascus’s busy tourist district. “Is we need to turn this around.”

I looked over at Daniel across the table and gazed at him for a moment trying to unravel the direction his mind was taking. “We are outlaws until this organisation is exposed...” I agreed slowly, “our only option is to take the fight to them,” I added realising the direction his mind was headed.

“Big words,” Daniel said slowly raising his eyebrows. “Where do you plan to start this little war?”

I thought for a moment, mentally reviewing the documents and discussions I had in memory from my short time with the Israelis. “We start with the Oil Minister… Mohamed Hasizi” I said quietly as a plan began to form in my brain. “If we grab him and make him talk… we can find out who else is part of this ‘inner circle’? I offered. “It’s our only lead, and the subtle approach is somewhat pointless now.”

Peter nodded. “It sounds risky, but you’re right, it’s all we have. How will we get close to him?”

“This isn’t the United States of Paranoia,” I smiled, “and he’s only the oil minister, at most he will perhaps have a guard and a driver with him, if we catch him in transit, we can make him disappear before they can realise he’s gone…”

Daniel gave me a strange look, “You were telling me the truth when you said this was your first mission?”

I grinned and blushed. “It is, I’m just not new to the world of catching people.”

“You were a police officer,” Daniel replied sipping his coffee with no hint that it had been a question. “However, if it is all the same, I will interrogate him this time,” he added quietly, “We do need him to live long enough to talk,” Daniel smiled sardonically.

“It almost sounds like you don’t trust me,” I smiled sweetly. “I can be good.”

Daniel chuckled, “Well I don’t know about that,” he grinned. “I first met you undercover as a Russian mercenary… you turned out to be an international spy, and you’ve tortured and killed a man before my own eyes… Do I even need to mention that you began to plot the kidnap of a foreign politician… You seem like my sort of girl, and they aren’t the good sort,” he smirked

His words and the look in his eyes made me feel strange and somewhat unclean. I didn’t want to be his sort of girl, at the moment or anyone’s… The girl part even bothered me a little when he so pointedly brought it to attention.

“Well you can do it, we just need the names,” I added quickly, wanting to end the awkward silence. “But we have to move before the others can realise we are alive and kicking, whoever followed us was working for someone, we can’t be seen to be taking these steps.”

“You’re treating this like a police job are you not?” Daniel asked flipping through his wallet for the bill.

“Why not?” I shrugged. “It’s the best way to deal with what we have; we’re undercover. We know who the bad guys are and we need evidence to bring them down…”

Daniel looked at me for a moment before raising his eyebrows, “You’re quite correct,” he sighed. “I had been thinking about this from a Mossad point of view… how we do things… Perhaps… yes,” he mused quietly for a moment tapping his hand against the table as he thought. “If we were to treat this as one of your police operations… it would throw them off our scent… It is not standard operating procedure for either of our agencies… they would not expect it.”

Looking over at Daniel, I saw an admiration in his eyes, thinking his words over, the more the realisation he had met struck me also. The only way we would survive this trial by fire, and have any hope of catching the men responsible for our betrayal, would be to become unpredictable, to do anything and everything they didn’t expect to buy us time. To them, we were Field Intelligence Officers… and there was a relatively fixed modus operandi from what I had seen during my short stint in the business… If we broke the mould, we broke their ability to predict our moves, and that gave us the upper hand.

We left the café, and made our way into the sea of human traffic outside: It was still the height of the tourist season and the streets were packed. Before long, we hailed a cab, and made our way back to the hotel and the relative privacy of the room.

I sat on the bed back in our room with my back against the headboard and my knees tucked into my chest. I was thinking, and it wasn’t pleasant. The tourists… the breaking of the proverbial mould: Becoming what they least expected had been niggling away at my brain since the thought had first entered. There was one answer that was repeatedly surfacing as I searched for the right one, and it would not allow itself to be submerged. It told me that I should go back to being mike, and as logical as it sounded, a strange regret held me back. They would not expect me to be male…. No record listed me as such, yet how would I explain this to Daniel? I had lied to him all this time? That I was not the girl he knew? I didn’t know what to say. I looked over at him by the window, quietly watching. It was something I had to confront.

“Daniel… About our disappearing?” I asked tentatively. “I had an Idea.” I offered quietly.

Daniel turned and lent back against the window sill. “Shoot.” He offered plainly.

I squeezed my knees harder. “We should change our appearance… They know what we look like… perhaps we should… I don’t know…” I trailed off uselessly allowing my hands to flop to the bed.

Daniel smiled. “No, you’re right, we should… but I had a beard, that’s one change… not much more I can do without plastic surgery really… what about you? Change your hair style? Colour? Stuff your bra?” he offered with a grin.

I shook my head as I felt colour rise. “Well…” I began slowly. “They’re looking for a man and a w-woman; right? So… mm, what If I dressed as a man?” I blurted without looking at him. “I could cut my hair and….” I said weakly looking up at him to judge his reaction.

Daniel shook his head. “No, that wouldn’t work,” he shook his head emphatically. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good idea… Excellent Idea… But I think you’d draw more attention pretending to be a man. Not that you don’t now… he added sheepishly. “I just don’t think it would work really, you’re too pretty.” He grinned blushing himself.

I looked down at the bed sheet. Some idea that had been… “What should I do then?” I asked quietly.

“We can go into town later and pick up the things we need. but I suspect we just need to look different enough to remove suspicion.”

Later that afternoon, we returned to the hotel with a plethora of bags and boxes. Having found an excuse to not return to being Mike, I had followed Daniel’s initial advice and chosen to change my appearance in more subtle ways. Sifting through the bounty, I collected an armful of items and retreated to the bathroom to begin my transformation of sorts.

Dumping the items and bottles into the sink, I looked at myself for a moment. I had almost begun to think of this me… As the real me. Would I go back to being blonde once more when this was all over? Hell, would I keep the hair? Was I mad? delusional? Lost inside some role? I didn’t think so. To me, this felt so real, so finite, and so important. I decided that when I got back to England, I’d resurrect my blonde locks, and the Sharon I had grown familiar with would return, if only to stop Sally from killing me for what I was about to do. For now however… Change was on the cards.. I raised the scissors and began my work.

Half an hour later, I looked at my reflection. I was no hair stylist, but I was pleased with the job I had done… My hair fell to my shoulders, and was jagged and rough… it took years off me… the deep brunette shade I had dyed it made the look even more striking… I looked NOTHING like Sharon Cohen anymore… not the Sharon Cohen born in a London Salon... I couldn’t tell if it was the experience of the past week, or just the new style that made me see myself so differently. Almost Like I had begun to earn my right to have this body. I felt a strange flopping sensation in my stomach; a strange mixture of panic and pride. I was finally looking at someone else in the mirror… seeing myself how others saw me, and it was striking…. As hard as I had tried, I had always seen some of Mike in Sharon, but now… now he was gone. I couldn’t see a trace: Daniel’s words made sense now. There was no way I’d be able to pretend to be a man successfully: The idea pleased me, and I did not feel guilt.

Fluffing my hair with my hands, I made faces at the mirror before smiling, and leaving the bathroom. Daniel was stood in his spot by the window, watching the traffic on the street bellow. “I’m done.” I announced quietly to get his attention.

Turning, I could see he had taken gel or something to his shaggy hair, creating a more youthful style… he certainly didn’t look 29… he looked almost handsome.

“Wow, different,” he grinned. “It suits you.” He smiled. “It always amazes me how you women can change your appearance so easily,” he chuckled.

I grinned and struck a silly pose. “Oh we get taught it in spy school.” I retorted playfully. “Or was that high school?” I asked myself putting a finger to my lip and looking thoughtful. “I guess I don’t have the blonde excuse anymore huh?”

“Whatever.” He chuckled. “I think the idea was a good one… we look different enough to pass cursory inspection I think. And you don’t even look old enough to be a Intelligence Officer anymore.” He grinned shaking his head.

“A girl always likes to hear that.” I chuckled. “Why don’t you use the bathroom, and I’ll change, and we can head out?” I offered nodding towards the now vacated scene of my experimentation. Grabbing a pile of clothes, Daniel vanished into the bathroom, closing the door, leaving me to change.

I slipped out of my jeans and blouse and stood in my underwear before the bed. I looked younger… I should dress younger too I mused. Searching through the clothing we’d bought, I pulled on a shortish denim skirt, and a tee-shirt. If we kept to the tourist areas, and broke some social rules, I suspected we would be overlooked by our pursuers.

Slipping my sandals on my feet, I sat on the bed and looked down at myself. I was surprised how much I had changed since this had all begun. What started as a challenge, had become disturbing, and was now almost second nature to me. I wondered if I was truly mad, or if I should even question myself. I felt happy with my appearance, Truth be told, the only negative thought I could come up with at the time, was that my enhancements were not permanent…