Focal Point

CHAPTERS 14 - 16
 
By Alyssa Plant
 
Michael Cohen's dream was to protect and serve as a police officer.... That job didn't satisfy him until one

day, when people without names came to visit. He wanted to make a difference, but he didn't expect it to make a

difference to him, too...

---

 
Chapter 14

Dujani chuckled. “Why would I wish to kill you child? I suspect my superiors would have a diplomatic crisis if we killed an agent of a friendly Intelligence Service; especially one as pretty as yourself.”

I looked up and tried to focus on Omid Dujani, the man had a look of mild amusement on his face. “You’re not going to kill me?” I croaked; partly in disbelief, part relief.

Dujani frowned, and crouched down on his haunches so he was looking into my eyes as I sat on the edge of the fountain. The man cocked his head to one side and looked at me intently. “This is your first assignment, isn’t it?” he asked softly. “You are lucky we are on your side, or you would be dead now.”

“Who are you? CIA?” I asked. “No,” I narrowed my eyes, “You’re a Jew… You’re Mossad.”

Omi Dujani laughed. “Yes, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, even If I do not know your name.”

I smirked and stuck out my hand. “Sharon Cohen, Mi6.”

Dujani raised his eyebrows. “You are a Jew also?”

I shrugged. “On my father’s side, I… I was never very religious.”

Dujani looked at me again, “Why are you here?”

I frowned, “I don’t really know.” I admitted. “Everything in my brief is wrong… I was sent here to stop you…” I nodded at Dujani, “A radical Muslim you… from assassinating the British Primeminister at the Beirut treaty… Nothing has fitted…”

Dujani looked puzzled. “Intelligence can get crossed, but I doubt that is the case here.”

“I don’t know what to think.” I shrugged. “I’m very new to this.”

“I can tell.” Dujani smiled, sitting down beside me at the fountain. “That also bothers me, why did they send one so unprepared into a perceived hornets nest?”

“That is a long story.” I half chuckled.

Naturally, the long story that I told Omid Dujani, was not the full honest truth. I carefully omitted certain facts pertaining to my gender, while presenting him with the honest facts. Needless to say, he was more than unimpressed with my employers.

Dujani stood and walked towards the archway we had come from before turning to me, “Come with me child, I think we may be able to make use of you yet.”

Grudgingly, I followed the man back into the central courtyard where the other men were still waiting; the conversation stopped as they noticed his return.

I hovered by the edge of the lit area as Dujani approached and called for the attention of the men.

“Gentlemen, Sorry for the delay, but I believe our little problem has been solved.”

“She is dead?” One man asked, “Did you find out who she was working for?”

“Dead? What? No,” Dujani chuckled looking over at me and beckoning for me to come closer. “I think our friend here would like to reintroduce herself.”

I blushed as the attention of the men seated turned towards me. “Sharon Cohen, Mi6,” I smiled apologetically. “As Mister Dujani says, there seems to be a little confusion from our end.”

There were exchanged looks at the table. One man leant back in his chair and let out a quick laugh. “The British do it again.”

“I’m afraid we had bad Intelligence.” I offered, trying to believe that myself. I turned to Dujani, “You said my services would still be useful? Want to tell me why that’s a good idea?”

“You really are an assassin for Mi6?” One of the men asked.

“British Army trained sniper actually, I was recruited for this.”

Dujani looked thoughtful. “I put it to you,” He started slowly, addressing the men around the table, “That we use Miss Cohen’s services for the operation as planned, and give her the choice to assist us or not.”

There were a smattering of agreements and non committal replies from around the table and Dujani looked across at me. “Let us offer you the full facts Miss Cohen?”

“Why should we read a foreign operative in?” An older greying man asked. “It is clear that she was sent to interrupt this operation, further involvement could not guarantee its security.”

“Because,” I offered turning to the man, “The reason you hired out in the first place still stands, I’m all you have, and I’m an ally, we made a mistake, we didn’t even know you were Mossad.”

The man muttered something in Hebrew before turning to Dujani, “I’m not happy about this Peter, but do it.”

The man I knew as Omid Dujani nodded curtly before pulling a folder from a pile on the table and sliding it across to me. I flipped the folder open and leafed through the documents and photographs, trying to absorb what I could. “This is a narcotics op.” I mumbled. “Afghanistan? What does this have to do with the treaty?”

Dujani nodded again. “An international ring has been running Heroin from factories within Taliban controlled areas of the Afghani Mountains; pockets that the Americans have yet to uncover.” Dujani pointed at one of the photographs, “This man, is Mohamed Hasizi, he is the Syrian Oil minister, and only part of the organisation. This group,” he indicated the document, “Are using the oil networks of the Middle East to traffic Heroin around the world, It is a new network of unprecedented size, Forget the Columbians and their unmanned submarines… this is practically a postal service…”

I sat, taking in the information for a moment, and flipped through the documents in the brief, “I’m going to take it, by your colleague’s reaction; you have not deemed this worthy of Mi6’s ears?”

The lack of reaction told me all I needed to hear. “You try to blame me, when you run a covert operation to assassinate a politician at a summit, and accuse us of not doing our job when we send someone to investigate?”

Dujani looked, to his credit, somewhat embarrassed. “The problem is, we do not know how far this extends… The corruption is deep. We hoped to maintain this… In house… till a greater picture was found.”

I looked at my forgotten glass of champagne on the table, and frowned. Dujani’s words had terrifying meaning to me. The misdirection could point at a corrupt influence operating within mi6… but who? And where? I kept my mouth shut about my concerns, but began to realise that if it was true that I was sent to disrupt Mossad, the enemy already knew that we knew… If I officially reported back to 6… It would tie the traitor’s hands. “You do realise, that beyond my decision to assist you, I am required to inform my superiors of the change in threat…” I replied dryly looking at Peter Dujani

“I do not think that…” the grey man began indignantly, only to be waved to silence by Dujani. “That is a good idea.” He said, glaring at the grey man. “It is about time we share this information with a sister agency, and we cannot afford any further confusion as to our purpose…

“Why kill him though?” I added, “He is not more use to you as a prisoner?”

Dujani shook his head. “We take him down at a political event, and the reason for the assassination is unclear, we spread misdirection, one or two shadow organisations claim responsibility for political reasons, there is a significant loss to the drugs ring, yet no direct proof that anyone is on to the operation.”

As dubious of the Israeli’s methods as I was, I couldn’t help but see logic in their blunt force approach. Several unfortunate accidents, political deaths, etcetera, of key members of the ring would expose others through increased security and rash acts. I’m sure Dujani and his colleagues were followers of the ‘Remove the head, and the body will wither’ philosophy too.

We had agreed that I would contact Mi6 in the morning, and Dujani insisted that I remain in the residence for our mutual convenience: As nice as he was, I suspected the Mossad Officers wished to keep close tabs on me. I bade the men goodnight, as loath as I was to leave, but it had been a long day. Quietly, I left the courtyard and made my way back inside the house to return to my room.

Hafiz, the muscle that had retrieved me from the airport was loitering in the Foyer when I entered.

“Ms Zanov.” He smiled, looking up. “You are going to bed?”

I nodded, my hand on banister of the wide stairway, “Yes, It has been a… revealing evening.” I replied with a half grin. “I had an enlightening discussion with your superiors.”

Hafiz looked sheepish. “Look, I was waiting for you I guess.” He admitted sheepishly, his heavy Syrian accented English dropping seamlessly into that of his native Israel. “I wanted to talk to you.”

I smiled, “I’m flattered,” I smiled coyly. “Do you make a point of waiting for every foreign intelligence agent, or just the female ones?” I asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Hafiz blushed, “No, its not that… Sorry for what I said in the car.” He offered. “I’m really not such a misogynistic pig, you know?”

“We were both playing roles, I did bait you though.” I shrugged. “And I made you by the way.” I chuckled, watching the confusion spread across his face.
“How?” he asked.

“You knew too much about my background, you were hired muscle, they do not get told the time of day.”

Hafiz grinned embarrassedly and shook his head. “Amateur of me, but you are somewhat distracting,” he smiled. “According to some of the guys, you are Mi6, so I guess I should count myself lucky.”

I nodded. “Yes, Mi-6,” I agreed, “Sharon Cohen.” I said, offering my hand.

Hafiz lent forwards and took my hand in his paw. “Daniel Gefen, Mossad.”

I smiled, noticing he had not let go of my hand. “Pleased to meet you Daniel.”

He eventually let go of my hand, and we stood in awkward silence for a moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked, beginning to climb the stairs, “Good night.” I offered.

“Night.” He called, as he stood unmoving at the foot of the stairs. Knowing what he was waiting for, and how stupid walking upstairs backwards would be, I turned and departed. I had never felt a pair of eyes on me so definitely. I shook my head and smiled to myself. Men….

Securely inside my rooms, I stopped and ran my fingers through my hair and looked at my right palm. That man had the serious hots for me… Yuck! I could still feel his huge bloody paw on my hand… In his favour, the man apologised, but I wasn’t about to jump into his bed… not now or ever. I wasn’t interested in men, and I had Harriet…. I was faithful to my love. However, as hard as I tried to ignore it, a worm of doubt burrowed into my head on the subject of men.

I undressed slowly and changed into my nightie before slipping a carbon polymer divers knife I had secreted amongst my luggage beneath the pillow; It never hurt to be cautious. Drifting to sleep on my first night in Syria, I wondered what the hell I had gotten myself wrapped up in. The following days would prove most interesting….

 

Chapter 15

The sound of the morning prayer horns ringing out over the city roused me from my slumber. It took a moment before I remembered where I was, why I was here, and occurrences of the night before. My first mission was an utter failure…. It had, however, raised questions that I found hard to ignore… How had we so badly interpreted the Intelligence? It seemed the sort of tabloid wet dream of a mix-up… I rubbed my eyes sleepily and yawned. I shouldn’t think so deeply at this time of the morning.

Slipping from the bed, I wrapped my dressing gown about me; to my delight, I had found the guest room equipped in similar fashion to a hotel room; the coffee pot and kettle in the corner was my first port of call before retreating into the bathroom and doing my business. Collecting my sweet caffeine, I walked across to the window overlooking the city and gazed out as I sipped. Feeling human enough for light conversation, I activated my microphone and contacted the Damascus station.

“Miss Cohen, is something wrong?” asked a male voice that I didn’t recognise.

I shook my head before realising that the owner of the voice wasn’t in the same room. “No. But my cover is blown, and we fucked up in a fairly spectacular manner.”

“Ah, let me get the Chief.” The man replied nervously before the earpiece went quiet.

I sipped my coffee while I waited. I wasn’t sure this was the best idea, but I had nobody else to turn to… I didn’t want to start thinking conspiracy, but the options were few and far between, besides, it could be a simple mistake…
“Sharon, talk, do you need an out?” came the breathless rapid-fire reply of our man in Damascus, Terry Anderson.

“Calm down Terry.” I replied sipping my coffee, “Look, we messed up here… the players aren’t players after all… they’re Israeli Mossad.”

“What?” he spat. I was glad he sounded shocked; my paranoia lobe was going 10 to the dozen and his response at least confirmed that this might be an innocent mistake.

“Mossad?” he continued, sounding more subdued. “The Head shed’s Intel was very specific… we got the wrong guys?”

“No, I don’t think so.” I mused. “I think we screwed up…. OR….” I emphasised with a pause. “Or someone planted that very specific Intel.”

“Hang on.” Terry muttered, “Right, I’m alone. Explain,” he said quite gruffly.

The confusing thoughts that had filtered through my waking mind returned with the awkward clarity of morning. “Look, there’s too much wrong here … I know im only a new field officer… but … I’m not stupid or blind.” I admitted defensively. “It just seems far too convenient and obvious a mistake. I mean… Even Dujani isn’t who he apparently is, he’s not even Muslim.”

“I’m not going to tell you you’re stupid Sharon.” Terry said in a reassuring tone, “Look, I know this is hard on you, tell me everything…”
Over the next half hour, I explained everything from the night before in minute detail. He wasn’t pleased, but he came to the same conclusion as me. We were being played by someone at home. And it seemed someone high up...

“What do you want me to do?” I asked, wondering just how far I was getting into something beyond my experience.

“Nothing,” Terry responded after a pause. “Do nothing, I’ll call a mate back home who I know is squeaky and check on the Intel, I want you to report in as normal to six.”

“Are you sure?” I asked cautiously.

There was an awkward silence for a moment before he responded. “You’re a newbie Sharon, no offence, but they will expect this to come back from you. You’re not allowed to be a paranoid old cynic yet.”

I chuckled dryly setting my coffee mug down on the window sill. “I can play the innocent little girl for a while, but keep me in the loop.”

“I will, Bye.”

I turned off my mike and set about getting ready to face my new friends.

I showered and dressed in a knee length linen skirt and a sleeveless vest now my worries of offending delicate cultural sensibilities were lost, and set to brushing my hair out before clipping it back into a ponytail. Feeling ready to face the Israeli’s, I left the room and made my way downstairs.

Fatima was hovering at the bottom of the stairs when I descended.

“Miss Cohen,” she smiled with hostly warmth. Not the housekeeper either…. “You slept well?”

I smiled and nodded before following Fatima through to the same courtyard as the day before where the men were eating breakfast.

“Miss Cohen,” smiled Dujani when he noticed me approaching. “Good morning my dear, join us please,” he offered waving at an empty chair.

I sat, and to poured myself a cup of steaming coffee. I was of the belief that one is never enough to start the day.

I took a moment as I sipped the boiling liquid to look at the men around the table; it seemed the activity was mutual. “As you can see we are still here, I’ve not called in a cruise missile on the compound.” I grinned weakly.

The man that challenged me the previous night frowned, but the others seemed to smile at the joke. The conversation began to circulate once more, and I allowed myself a backseat role to observe the dynamics of the group.

Dujani… Peter, seemed to be the man in charge on the ground from the way the men interacted with him, the man from Jerusalem was clearly the only one not local to the operation and quite dry in his approach. I got the impression that most of the men interacted with him if they had to. He reminded me of the spook that first recruited me.

“So you have considered my offer?” Dujani asked after taking a sip of his own coffee. “I suspect you will wish to contact your employers?”

“You haven’t made me an offer yet.” I replied dryly. “As it stands, I’ve been read in, but nothing formal put on the table.”

Dujani smiled. “I see you are as mercenary as your legend. I think we chose well... Of course, Jerusalem will… compensate you off the books regardless of your official or unofficial involvement.” He gestured raising his eyebrows conspiratorially. The unspoken offer was plain.

I nodded. “I’m willing to be involved if six give me the go-ahead; I can’t go behind their back on this. The beurocrat looked as if he wanted to speak, but remained silent. I could only imagine the conversation between him and Dujani after I had left.

“I understand.” Dujani replied nodding.

After finishing breakfast, the group split up to attend to various tasks, and Peter led me to a communications room in the house.

Dujani handed me a satellite phone, “You may use this, it is encrypted, and we will not listen in. I believe we must have some trust,” he smiled.

I nodded and smiled back, things felt less awkward now. He made a point to leave, closing the door behind me… I lifted the satellite phone and entered the number for the Operations desk at Vauxhall Cross.

The Phone connected, and there were several bleeps before it began to ring.

“West Thames Fish and Chips.”

It took me a second to remember this was a code….

“Hi, do you deliver to Aberdeen?”

“Certainly, let me connect you.”

There was a flat waiting tone before someone finally picked up…

“Operations.”

“Sharon Cohen, Middle East Controlerate, I’m reporting in.”

“One moment Miss Cohen.”

I was beginning to wonder if Mi6 took its telephone protocol lessons from British Gas when I finally heard a voice I recognised…

“Sharon? Why are you reporting in so soon? Is something wrong?” asked the worried sounding voice of Jane North, my handler back home.

“Jane, I’m fine, there’s been a problem…..”

As I explained the situation to Jane, I became more satisfied that she too was on my side. She didn’t know protocol for this situation, and told me to remain in position till I could be given new orders… It sounded like a bust to me, being fobbed off for now, but it gave me time to think over the shadowy offer I had on the table.

Jane seemed distracted for a moment. “Sharon, hang on one moment, Harriet wants to speak to you.”

I felt my heart jump at the mention of Harriet’s name. After my experiences , I really needed to hear her voice.

“Sharon?” came the quiet voice from the ear piece.

“Hey,” I replied dumbly, lost for any other intelligent greeting.

“I listened in baby, are you ok?”

“Yes, I suppose. They are good men here, I’ll be ok.”

“I’m flying over.” Harriet added with deliberate slowness

“No don’t,” I blurted. “I mean, no, I want to see you, but don’t come, this is something I need to do.”

“Baby, you’re out of your depth now,” Harriet replied soothingly. “I’m going to fly out later… They will want someone else on the ground now.”

I sighed to myself, realising she was right. “Fine. It would be good to see you.”

“You too baby,” she cooed, “Look, I’ll be over as soon as I can get away… I love you.”

“I love you too.” I replied feeling my eyes moisten and hit the call end button on the Phone.
I slumped down into one of the chairs in the room to compose myself. I didn’t need Dujani seeing me crying. On one hand, I was annoyed with her for wanting to fly in…. This was my first mission… I wanted to complete it myself… to prove myself… But on the other hand, I knew I’d need her to help me… I was so very out of my depth, convincing myself I could cope. Realising just how very alone and isolated I really was brought another tear to my eye. I was not alone…
Hugging myself tightly, I wept quietly with frustration and fear. I was a part of something beyond my control… and the lack of control terrified me. I was so used to being the one in the position to control a situation, a place…. Even being Michael had afforded me the shadow of an act… the protection of his masculinity… He wasn’t really me… so damage to his self esteem, his self worth, his fears didn’t really matter… I could add more layers to hide them, and they were gone now…

Sharon was me, she was all I had, and if she was hurt.. it was permanent, and it was painful. As much as my idiot pride wanted to do this myself… I couldn’t wait to see Harriet again. To hold, to be held…. Her image in my mind’s eye silenced my tears as if she was here holding me.

Drying my eyes, I got to my feet and attempted to sort out my messy hair. I must look a sight, but there was no avoiding that. Composing myself as best I could, I left the communications room.

Omid Dujani or Peter… I had a hard time deciding, was waiting for me when I returned to the courtyard. He was sat alone at the table as I approached.

“What have you decided?” he asked, without looking up from the document he was reading.

I pulled out a chair and sat before answering.

“They cannot give me an answer yet. Can I see further Intel on this guy… the target? Even if Six make their minds up… I still have to?” I asked tentatively, gauging him for a reaction. “I want to be sure this is for a greater good… I can’t just kill people.”

Peter Dujani looked up from his papers. “I would not ask you to do this blindly, and certainly not expect you to kill without a need. Do not think I am ignorant of the art you practice… In war… orders are orders, but in something like this…” he shrugged leaving the comment open. I smiled appreciatively.

“Look, I’d like to go out into the city today? If that’s ok? I have some thinking to do… and I need to speak to my local Station Chief about some things at home…”

Peter Dujani nodded. “Reasonable enough… I will collect a dossier on the target for your eyes,” He muttered, looking up from his paper at me. He studied me for a moment. “Why don’t you wash up and go for a walk to clear your head child?” he offered with a slight curve of his mouth. He had noticed….

 

Chapter 16

Leaving the compound, I wandered around the city playing the role of the western tourist, loosing myself in the crowd. It felt good to be anonymous after the last 24 hours. After several hours walking, I decided to find a quiet place to sit and think. I wasn’t ready to return to the compound yet and it was near impossible to concentrate in the oppressive heat and noise of downtown Damascus. Three blocks over, a small park provided the harbour I sought. Walking through the gate, I left the sandy metallic city and entered a desert oasis. The park was well tended; green and full of life. As I stood in the gateway to the park, my eyes fell upon a bench amongst a grove of palm trees; it looked perfect. I sat down on the bench and wrapped my legs under me. The palms swayed lazily in the light breeze. The tranquillity was complete; the bustle of the city felt a million miles away.

Instead of reflecting on how I had reached this point in my life, something I had done little else but consider over the last few days it seemed, I pondered where I would go from here. What would become of my life? Could I live through this? As much as I knew it was reality, it felt like a surreal twisted thriller with the moments of solitude occupied by deep philosophical thought. As hard as I tried, I really couldn’t see much beyond the job at hand. Could I kill a man in cold blood? Well the answer was yes. I had trained to do it for years, I had done it. Could I kill someone in a time of peace? A politician? Murder someone? Mr Dujani had been open with me, the man was corrupt.. evil… a sponsor of death and violence... But did someone’s life choices mean it was ok to kill them? Would his death solve anything? Or would the unstoppable tide of corruption in the world fill the gap before we could do anything with that victory? That wasn’t my choice to make. This was a call from higher up, and I was to answer it. Indirectly he was murdering thousands a year with the product he helped to move, that made him the equal of any enemy combatant. There was no smoking gun, but no firearm has killed without the person pulling the trigger. Humans kill, this man killed, method was irrelevant.

Part of me wanted to run and hide from this choice, but the logical part of me told me that it was necessary. I was trained for this. I had taken lives, when faced with the target in my crosshairs I would not hesitate at the moment. Choosing to progress as far as that moment was my present crisis.

The ringing of my mobile phone dragged me from my thoughts. Harriet’s number on the screen made my heart jump.

“Hello.” I said unable to stop myself smiling despite the dark mood. “You landed?”

“Yes, I just got off the plane, where can I meet you?”

“I think its best if you don’t come to the compound… Check into one of the city centre hotels, and give me your room number, I’ll find you.”

Harriet chuckled. “My little girl is all grown up,” she cooed. “Wise choice. I’ll be at the Damascus Hilton, I’ve used it before when I’ve been working.”

“I’ll head there now, text me your room number once you check in. I love you.” I added.

“I love you too baby, see you soon.”

I ended the call and slipped the mobile back into my bag. Knowing she was near felt good, but I also wondered how I could trust myself should things go bad, knowing she was in harms way. It was out of my hands now; we were both professionals, and we had told ourselves we wouldn’t let our relationship get in the way of the mission… one day at a time, I told myself… just one day at a time…
I walked out of the park and back to the busy street. I hailed a cab, and told the driver where to take me.

On the ride over, I found it hard to think about the situation we were in now. I just wanted to see my Harriet. That seeing her… That being in her presence would make this nightmare go away.

I earned a quizzical look from the cab driver when I laughed out loud at myself. Could I have predicted a month ago that I’d be in this situation? That I would know these things, feel this way? It was easier in some respects, I was starting from scratch in all things, I wasn’t adjusting. My whole being was up in the air. Collecting the pieces once this was over would be the true test. As thing stood, I could get by as I was required… The soul searching agony could wait.

My phone bleeped as the cab arrived in front of the Hilton hotel. ‘Room 2331, 28th floor.’

I flipped the phone closed and paid the driver before leaving the cab and walking up the steps to the front door of the Hotel.

A doorman opened the ornate door for me as I approached and I entered the cool air conditioned lobby. The marble and mahogany furnishings seemed more suited to Wall Street than Syria, but It was clearly what the residents paid for; a little slice of home… Why bother visiting at all?

I hit the lift call button and waited. A glance in the mirrored wall next to the lift satisfied me that I wasn’t being watched. Since the previous evening, my paranoia level had tripled. The mission had been dangerous, but it was contained. I was to be known to my enemy, and allied with them. Now… god knows what lurked around each corner.

The car’s doors slid open at the 28th floor. The hallway was deserted. I knocked on the door to room 2331, and waited. There was no sound from within. I reached to knock again but as I did, the door opened and I found myself face to face with Harriet, silly lopsided grin on her lips, her right hand planted on her hip.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hey,” I offered in return. I couldn’t think of anything better to say, or anything that needed saying. I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me. As I turned to find Harriet I felt her arms encircle me from behind.

“I can’t begin to describe how much I missed you,” she cooed softly into my ear. “I’m so glad I got here in time.”

“In time? I asked turning in her arms till we were facing one another. “This has become time critical?”

Harriet frowned. “There are definitely elements back at six that are being less than forthright about the details behind this. It doesn’t seem to have left the controlerate level yet, which is strange. I have a bad feeling about this…” she replied biting her lower lip. “It’s the first time in all my years with six that I feel out of the loop, and that scares me.”

“Did anyone follow you here?” I asked feeling suddenly concerned. “Do you think anyone might?”

Harriet shook her head. “I left too quickly I think, If anyone intended to, I do not believe they have our location… We are safe for now… we need to work out what our next play is…”

With a sigh, I slumped down on the bed. “What the hell have we stumbled into?”

Harriet paced in front of me with her arms crossed and an expression of deep thought. “I don’t know, but we need insurance, and we need a way out that isn’t on six’s books… we may have to go dark for our safety, the op seems a write off.”

I reached out and took her hand as she passed. “I agree, but let’s just take a moment out… clear our heads.”

Harriet smiled and stopped pacing. She pulled my hand till I was standing in front of her. Wrapping her arms around my waist, she lent forwards and kissed me softly on the lips. Fireworks exploded in my mind as we melted into each others arms. “I love you,” I whispered breathlessly.

About an hour later, we were lying entwined in bed, our passion sated, Harriet gently stroking my hair as we held one another.
“It was much better that time,” she whispered softly. “I was with you, not a façade.”

“To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought since we spoke about it before I left,” I replied honestly. “It’s sort of a mute point now.”

“I know,” she answered softly. “I love you Sharon.”
I rolled over till we were facing one another and placed a kiss on her forehead. Before lifting her chin with a finger and letting our lips touch.

After a moment, Harriet placed her hand against my chest and pushed me back. “Stop,” she grinned. “Or I won’t be able to.”

“Hey, I thought I was meant to be the sex junkie half of this relationship?” I asked innocently pushing myself up on my elbows. “Well I guess I was supposed to be.”

Harriet sat up and lifted herself off the bed before crossing nude over to the window. “You know that’s never been your style kitten,” she smirked slyly, looking back over her shoulder. “You’re mine.”

I smiled; I felt truly confident in our ability to handle whatever was thrown at us now. The reminder of our love reinforced my heart and my mind; we were together in this, we had each other and we would be ok no matter what.

“What’s the plan from here?” I asked bringing things back to the job at hand.

“You go back to the compound and wait for things to play out… Whoever is involved in the conspiracy will know things have been rumbled… they will make a move. Here,” she offered reaching into her handbag and retrieving a new mobile phone in its packaging. “I got this at the airport for you, one for each of us, clean.”

I accepted the mobile and opened the box, retrieving the phone inside. “You think they will have monitored our communications so far?” I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

Harriet shook her head. “It’s impossible to know… If they are high enough up in six… they can do that. This room is safe; I contacted you with the new phone… Its not on any records for me… they wont think to look for it.”

“For your sake I hope not.” I sighed. “Damn this is heavy Harri.”

Harriet shrugged and blew a strand of hair out of her face. “Yeah, it is… But we know about it now, that’s half the battle.”

I nodded, she was right. Our awareness would prove our most potent protection. I dressed quietly, and collected my bag. “I’m going to head back to the compound now… I need to talk to the Israelis.”

Harriet nodded. “I’m coming with you. I want to talk to this Dujani for myself.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Not yet. I’m the one dealing with them, and they trusted me to talk to 6, not to bring others into this… Let me talk to him before I bring you in ok?”

Harriet looked like she wanted to protest, but nodded her agreement.

I walked over to Harriet and hugged her tightly. “I’ll keep you in the loop, I love you.” I whispered softly, planting a gentle kiss on her lips. I left her smiling stupidly after me.

On my journey back to the compound, I regretted my decision to not bring Harriet. She was so much more experienced in this game than I… the world of espionage was hers, and I was barely an amateur. As she had known, I knew I couldn’t bring her in as much as either of us wanted. Her presence was a more significant asset if she remained unannounced, her support unseen. When it was hard to determine whom your enemy was, one often had to resort to hiding ones plans from ones friends.

I arrived back at the compound to find everything as I had left it. The usual men guarded the exterior with practiced nonchalance.

I walked straight through to the main courtyard to find peter working through several schematics with some of his men.

I approached the group but stopped short, waiting for him to catch my eye.

After a moment, he looked up, and his eyes fell on me as I loitered by the edge of the courtyard.

“My dear, you are feeling better now I trust?” he asked warmly walking across to me. “I trust you are still onboard with things?”

“For the time being Peter,” I nodded. “However, I have a favour to ask of you, and some information for your ears only.”

Peter nodded curtly, and led me to an office room by the courtyard.

“What is the problem?” he asked locking the door.

“I think the operation may be in danger.” I sighed. “Mi6 is corrupted at an unknown level… There is someone working against the operation from the start, and my partner and the local section chief also don’t feel good about things… I wanted to warn you privately.” I offered tentatively, hoping his reaction would be less than volcanic.

Peter looked at me for a moment before turning to look out of the window. “It was a matter of time I suppose. I have already begun plans to accelerate the operation. I will be leaving my keeper from Jerusalem in the dark of these changes, I suggest you do the same. We simply cannot know who is a part of this.”

“I think now would be a good time to show your trust in me by giving me a weapon.” I prompted gently, raising my eyebrows. “This is not a game.”

Peter looked at me for a long moment. “Are you sure you want to be involved despite these concerns?”

I nodded. “I don’t really have a choice. “I was brought in as a puppet by some involved party. How they intend to pull the strings during this operation will come clear with time, but for now, I have no choice but to presume that I am not on their Christmas card list…

Dujani chuckled. “I suppose not. The things we do for our countries eh?”

Peter walked across to a desk by the window and inserted a key into the top drawer.
He rummaged under some papers for a moment before withdrawing a Walther PPK pistol and a spare magazine. Turning, he handed the two Items to me.
“For you.” He offered. “It was my throw away for near a decade. It got me out of several difficult moments, Lets hope it is redundant for you child.”

“Thank you.” I smiled. “But I am not a child.” I growled racking the slide of the pistol and checking the chamber was full. “I may be new to the world of espionage, but believe me when I say that a visible enemy scares me a damn sight less than the invisible one at present.”

Peter looked at me with a hint of curiosity, as If he wanted to ask me something.

“You are full of surprises little one. Come,” he offered gesturing at the door. “let me show you our revised plans.”

As we left the office, I was interrupted by my phone ringing. I flipped the mobile open and lifted the handset to my ear. “Hello.”

“Sharon, you have to come quickly, they found me, I need you’re Israeli friends about now.”

 
Note from author:

Hello Folks, sorry for the EPIC delay... (like Bejing can deliver takeout to france faster) I've been delayed by exams, then coursework, then moving house... now im settled and my muse deemed me worthy to return... so Focal Point is back... give me a few days for Haifa too... :)
Shalom
Alyssa

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To Be Continued...