Precious Time - Part 3

What period elapsed before I began to surface is hard to say. I lay in a half-waking state for aeons, it seemed. My eyelids were so heavy I couldn’t open them no matter how hard I tried and my limbs seemed leaden as I drifted in and out of consciousness. What caught my notice first were voices. Voices arguing. The sound was muffled, and I couldn’t make out the words at first but presently, I could tell that one belonged to Nick, expostulating with his companion. The other was softer, a woman’s voice, an older woman. Eventually I could make out what they were saying too.

“I say no!” She spoke harshly.

“And I say we should get rid of her. Yesterday she didn’t want to know and tonight she was all over me. She knows too much.” The man sounded angry but there was also a note of fear in his tone. “You can leave it to me, just the same as I did for Waters. Quick and easy.”

“For God’s sake put that knife away, you fool. You can’t get away with it time and again. Anyway, it isn’t for you to decide. The whole of the network may be uncovered. We must find out what she knows. A day or two with Mikhail will loosen her tongue and will also serve to prepare her for her future. To dispose of her, once she is safely across the border, she can be submerged in that sea of lost humanity for good. Just leave the girl to me!”

The woman seemed to have won the debate. Her voice reminded me of someone I’d heard recently, but the sound was distorted, and I couldn’t work out whom. It didn’t seem to matter. Silence fell. Idly wondering who the girl they had been referring to might be, I drifted into oblivion again. How long this condition lasted, I cannot tell.

The sun was high when I woke fully. I found that I was stretched out on a couch. My head was fuzzy, and I felt slightly nauseous. I tried to sit up and at the second attempt managed to do so, to find myself in a strange room. Its walls were roughly rendered in a dingy shade of cream and high up in one of them was a barred window of obscured glass that gave a glimpse of the sky far above. This must be some kind of basement, I concluded.

Eventually a measured footfall approaching as from a distance broke the stillness. The noise roused me. A key rattled in the lock of the door, and bolts were drawn back. When it opened the person who entered was female, old and garbed in black. She was heavily veiled, a sepulchral figure. When she addressed me, her voice was harsh, contorted with anger.

Pointing a finger in admonition she began to scold. “Foolish child!” she screeched. “What induced you to meddle in things that don’t concern you? Stupid, stupid girl! You have no realisation of what you have been about, but now it is too late. There is no retreat. You have left us no choice but to find a way to deal with you.”

I hung my head, too heavy to raise. What the creature was telling me made no kind of sense.

“Look at your dress!” she barked. “Shameless girl! You choose to remain ignorant of the new order that is coming, that will change mankind. Typical of the decadent society you come from, instead of harnessing your talents to serve a world worthy of heroes, you dissipate your energies on the vain pursuit of so-called beauty. Careless of the consequences, you have interfered in matters far beyond your ken. What to do with you!”

My mind seemed detached from reality. I observed that the hair beneath the veil was grey and an idle thought flashed though my head. This must be the mysterious Grey Falcon.

The woman fell silent for a moment. When she spoke again it was as if judgement had been passed, the voice of doom!
“Think yourself lucky that your life is not yet forfeit. You have dressed yourself like a courtesan and soon you shall experience the life of one. After a period of preparation, your scandalous body will be given over to be the provider of physical pleasure. It is all you are fit for. Mikhail will instruct you in your duties. Some time with him will make certain you are ready for the fate you have yourself chosen. First you will tell him everything. Before long you will wish for more to tell him. Enough!”

With surprising speed, the woman extracted a bottle from her purse together with a rag. She soaked the latter with the contents and clapped it over my face. I was in no condition to resist her and that pungent smell engulfed me again. There was a roaring sound in my ears and I tumbled headlong into darkness once more.

Next time I awoke, I could see by the lengthening shadows that afternoon was turning into evening. I was laid on the same couch, in the same basement room. Now however I was dressed differently. I seemed to be wreathed in some kind of gauzy blue cloth. Where were my own clothes? What had happened to me?

Sitting up I could see my purse upon a side-table in the corner. It was next to a carafe of water. I rose and gingerly stepped over to it and helped myself to a glass. Drinking it down made me feel somewhat better and I poured myself another. What chiefly occupied my thoughts was, what was I wearing? There was a tall mirror leaning against one wall. I traipsed over to it and was greeted with a vision so jaw-droppingly bizarre I literally did a second take!

The dress or nightgown or whatever it was I was robed in was made of a shimmering turquoise voile. The front was split down to the navel and there were also dramatic splits from waist to toe on either side. The garment only just covered where it needed to, leaving little to the imagination. My only other nod to modesty was a pair of high cut panties in the same sheer fabric. How had I come to be got up like this? There was only one purpose for which I could be so attired. Seduction!

Not a vestige of my own things remained, apart from the high-heeled sandals I had put on the previous evening. Whoever had undressed me had been thorough, violating my privacy. Most worryingly, the flimsy covering of my private area now revealed a tell-tale bulge. The person or persons who had changed me out of my clothes had also removed the strips of surgical tape with which I tucked away my diminutive male attributes. The full enormity of that action hit me along with its potential consequences. My jealously guarded secret must be out!

While I gazed in dismay at the sultry vision in the glass before me, a predictable but unwanted reaction started to take place. A tingling down was accompanied by an increasing pressure on my little member as it strove against the tight panties which attempted to constrict it. Oh no! I was being turned on by the sight of myself in a mirror. How humiliating!

The realisation had just taken full hold when I heard a footfall in the corridor which led to my prison. This time it was a light clatter of heels. Unsurprisingly the figure of a young woman was revealed when the door opened. Irene!

“Are you okay? You’ve had me so worried; I can’t tell you.” The girl ran over and enveloped me in a warm embrace. In return I clung to her as if my life depended on it. Perhaps it did! Being partly clothed and pressed against a soft curvaceous body such as hers did nothing for my peace of mind, however. Embarrassingly, my private area was responding in the only way it might be expected to. A full-blown erection took hold down there which I was powerless to check.

To make my consternation worse, Irene noticed. She drew her head back and gazed into my eyes. “Jennifer, you like me!” she exclaimed. “And is it Jennifer? I’m not so sure anymore. It was I that undressed you.”

I blushed scarlet. “Why would you do that? And was it you who untaped me too?”

She laughed at my confusion. “My aunt told me to get you changed and then I was plain curious. I haven’t told her what I found, but it explains why I’ve been so attracted to you. I was beginning to think I might be going ‘that way’, you know, but I know better now. What exactly are you? How did you come to be... how you are?”

She led me back to the couch and seating herself beside me, took my hands.

“I wouldn’t normally be so direct as this, but we may be interrupted, so I need to be quick. I have to admit, I am very attracted to you, and… I can see that you are to me.”

It was pointless my denying her assertion. The evidence was right before her eyes! Instead, I crossed my legs and tried to answer her by encapsulating my life history into a few short sentences.

“It’s like this…” I explained how I had been born a boy, but that my mother had had other ideas and I’d was made to dress like a girl and fed full of hormones until I was neither one nor the other. “I guess I’m now more like a female” I concluded, “and I actually prefer being that gender these days.”

“You like men?” Irene’s face had fallen.

“It’s complicated. My body does – all those hormones, I guess. My head is still more interested in girls, though.”

At these words she visibly brightened.

To change the subject, I tried to be matter of fact. “Hand me my purse, please.”

She gave it me.

“Turn your back.”

When she had obliged, I extracted my roll of tape and tore off three strips of the stuff. Glancing at her to make sure I was unobserved I pulled down my nether garment and applied the shorter piece across, then the others on either side, front to back. When all was securely tucked away, I pulled up my panties and checked in the glass to make sure I had a nicely flat front. Satisfied on that score, I raised my eyes to see my companion’s face grinning at me. Irene had seen everything in the mirror.

“So that’s how you do it” she smirked. “It’s good to know that you aren’t so inaccessible, if I have any… needs!”

Our eyes met, and next moment I found myself in a clinch again. Seconds ticked slowly by until we broke apart. This was wrong. I needed to tell her about Rachel and fast.

“There’s more…” I wanted to explain about the wife who was waiting back home for my return, but Irene held her hand up for silence, listened intently.

“I thought I heard…” she started. “The woman that saw you earlier, what did she say was to happen to you?”

“She told me that I’d be given over to Mikhail, whoever he is, and then shipped off somewhere. It sounded bad. Who is he?”

“He’s an animal.” She shivered. “You don’t want to have anything to do with him, if you can help it.”

This wasn’t encouraging. Would I be given any choice in the matter?

“If… when he discovers… what… how you are, it can’t end well.” Irene looked even more worried at the thought.

Despite the desperate outlook, however, I really needed to put Irene in the picture about my domestic situation. “There’s more to tell.” I started again but was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the door.

Irene quickly pushed me onto the couch and stood over me, just before the door swung open. This time the figure that entered was that of a burly man of sinister mien. His hair was a steely shade and unkempt. He swaggered across and halted before me, seeming to fill the entire room. This must be Mikhail. A second man hovered behind him in the doorway. Nick!

Mikhail stretched out a massive hand and seized my chin. He lifted my face so my eyes met his. “So, this is she?” He asked of Irene. “A pretty enough little meddler! I see the girl is ready for me” he gloated. “You have excelled yourself. She is well prepared. Now. Let’s get going, you!”

This last to me, accompanied by an upward tug of his hand on my throat, none too gentle.

Summoning up what strength I had, I somehow got to my feet and stood there, swaying slightly. “What if I refuse?” I gasped with as much defiance as I could muster.

The man laughed derisively and bending down, grabbed me around the waist and hoisted me unceremoniously over his shoulder. Angrily I wriggled to get free, kicking my legs against him. This was greeted by a couple of sharp slaps upon my vulnerable behind. Stuck up in the air as it was my butt no doubt offered a tempting target, and the blows hurt sufficiently to put an end to any immediate thought of resistance.

Mikhail turned and marched purposefully towards the door.

“Wait! Where are you taking her?” cried the Irene, anger and anxiety in her voice.

The man halted briefly but snarled with a snarled “What do you care?”

The girl ran across to me. Putting her head close to mine, she mouthed “I’ll think of something.”

Yes, but what? Rescue seemed a remote possibility.

A thought flashed through my head. “My purse” I gasped, hoping the girl would understand.

Mikhail resumed his progress out of the door, carrying me across a paved yard to where a car was parked. The other man had preceded him and opened the lid of the trunk, I guessed to allow his crony to deposit his human burden inside.

Irene intervened. “No” protested my guardian angel. “How dare you think of putting her in there, you brutes? Do you know how much time it has taken me to get her dressed up like this and you’re about to ruin it. She will sit in back and I’ll ride beside her. She won’t escape.”

Nick’s voice broke in. “I don’t like it.”

Irene was firm, however. “My aunt will be most displeased if you snag that delicate gown. It was costly and she will probably make you pay for it.”

“Well, what is it to be?” Mikhail bent and stood me on my feet.

I wobbled but Irene took hold of me and helped me stand upright. “Open the rear door” she commanded.

Sheepishly the man obeyed and next moment I was inside. The girl pushed herself in next to me. “Move over!” she told me. “I’m not about to sit in your lap.”

She paused, smiling “Then again…”

I hutched myself across to the other seat. “Irene! How can you? This isn’t funny.”

She put her arm around me and whispered. “It’s just for show. I’m trying to think. Really, I am.”

The car set off, Nick in the driver’s seat, and his companion next to him. Mikhail kept glancing over his shoulder to check on us at first, but as the journey continued, he evidently relaxed and faced forward. I sensed an opportunity. Silently I took my purse from Irene and opened it. I removed the flat disc Guy had given me; it seemed so long ago. I turned the thing, to show her how the needle was then exposed. I mimed squeezing it. Her eyes met mine and our gazes locked. I replaced the device, hoping that she understood its purpose.

After what seemed an eternity, the car drew to a halt. We were well outside the city limits and had been following a narrow track for a mile or more through a wooded valley. The building we halted before was large and rambling. The ramshackle place was clearly remote from any other habitation. A huddle of low roofs of different pitches and elevations suggested that it had grown over a number of years, like Topsy. An imposing entrance porch dominated and over it a neon sign gave the intelligence that the place was a country club of sorts.

We alighted and Mikhail made as if to lift me up again.

I backed away. “I can walk!”

“Okay. Let’s see you.” he growled suspiciously. His heavy hand upon my shoulder steered me towards a side door, with Irene following closely.

“Where do you think you’re headed” Nick demanded of the girl.

“I’m going to see she’s all right” protested my new friend.

“Don’t be long” he admonished her. “We have to get back to the bar. It opens in an hour, don’t forget.”

He himself apparently had a different agenda. Addressing the other man, “In the meantime, I could use a drink” he told him. “See you later!” and turning abruptly he headed for the main entrance.

The side door gave entry into a long windowless passage, thickly carpeted. We passed several doorways each bearing a number in an ornate script. At the end the corridor turned at right angles. We passed through double doors and came to a heavy curtain. It concealed a panelled door, more substantial than the others and through this Mikhail led us. The door closed behind us with a muffled thud.

The room was plushly furnished in a shade of coral pink. An ornate bedstead dominated the chamber, giving small doubt as to the room’s intended purposes. It was not difficult to guess the nature of the establishment to which I had been conveyed. I surveyed my surroundings, anxiously seeking some means of escape, but nothing presented itself in that light.

Warily I looked at my new companion. A heavy figure, with an ill-favoured countenance, he looked the kind of individual I would instinctively avoid at the best of times. I stood before him waited for him to make the next move. Irene remained by the door.

“You can leave now” the man growled at her “unless, of course, you want to join in. I like a threesome.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I’ll watch.”

A leering grin occupied Mikhail’s features as she declared this. He turned to me. “Now, don’t you look a treat. We’re going to be here for a day or two and we will get to know each other very well in that time. Very well indeed. Who knows, you might even enjoy yourself, if you play along, that is.”

A meaning glance from Irene told me I had to seize the initiative. I tried to assume a confidence I did not feel. “Oh, believe me, I’m hoping so.”
I tried to put on a sultry expression. “I like strong men like you, the bigger the better. I’m not as innocent as I appear. I know a few moves you might like, if you let me try them.”

“Such as what?” snarled Mikhail, fiercely. “Don’t you play any tricks now, miss, or you’ll have reason to regret it.”

“No tricks” I smiled, as brightly as I could. “But perhaps we ought to have a little music. It will help us all relax.” I’d noticed the radio in a cabinet against one wall. Taking care to accentuate the wiggle in my hips, I walked across and turned it on, while the man watched me distrustfully. I turned the dial until I came across a station playing Latin music, easy enough to find this far south. That ought to serve.

I picked up the skirts of my gown and began to waft them about me. “Don’t you adore the way this material shimmers when it moves. So pretty!” I cried. “It makes me feel like dancing. Sit down and watch. I’m a very good dancer, if I say so myself.”

I could see Mikhail mulling over my words while lust flickered behind those deep-set eyes. He hadn’t rejected my suggestion out of hand, giving me the beginnings of hope. Gently at first, I started to move in time to the music. I think they were playing something called a marimba. Anyway, the Latin rhythm made it easy for me to gyrate seductively. I moved from one immodest pose to another, my clothing’s shortcomings assisting me in that regard. The brute of a man grinned and sat himself on the bed to ogle me unashamedly. I had his full attention, that was for sure.

As the intensity of the melody rose and fell, I moved closer to him then further away, parading my bodily attributes before his eyes. When it rose in a crescendo, I approached more closely, putting my hands on his shoulders and wiggling my hips as sensually as I knew how in front of his face. My breasts rose and fell inches from his eyes.

“You little tease” Mikhail smirked.

“You’re liking this” I exclaimed, forcing a giggle. It rang completely false in my ears but it served my purpose, which was to cover the sound as, behind him, Irene extracted the narcotic disc from my purse. Taking my cue, I clapped my hands each side of his head and pressed his face into my bosom, while, at the same instant my accomplice stuck the needle into his neck and squeezed.

What would the effect be? Time seemed to stand still as I pulled back to see. Instantly, Mikhail’s eyes began to glaze over. I sprang back before he could grab me and as I did so, he keeled over and fell back upon the bed, dead to the world.

“Aah! Thank the stars!” I cried. My relief was palpable!

“Phew! What’s in that thing?” exclaimed Irene.

“I have no idea!” I cried.

“Whatever it is, we’re in for it now” she concluded. “Let’s get going. Get his keys!”

It was the work of a moment to relieve the prostrate man of them. Irene grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the door. There was a delay while I searched for the right key, Irene visibly seething with impatience. After three vain attempts the door was securely locked behind us and we were running silently down the corridor to the exterior door.

When we reached it, Irene stopped us dead. She raised a finger to her lips and motioning me to remain, cautiously stepped outside. I peered anxiously through the crack as my partner in crime calmly walked over to where Nick’s car was parked. Cautiously she tried the lid of the trunk. It wasn’t locked. After a circumspect scan around her, the girl beckoned me to make haste across to her. I was unsure of her intention, but I had no alternative plan. In any case she seemed to be revelling in our adventure, while I fell into line and hoped for the best.

“Quickly! Get in!” Irene directed, opening the trunk wide.

“Really?” I questioned.

“Yes, yes!” she urged. “Don’t make a sound. I’ll go and fetch Nick. Hopefully I can disentangle him from whatever female he might be paying his attentions to before Mikhail comes around.”

I obeyed. The lid was shut with an air of finality that oppressed me. The darkness and discomfort were unpleasant, but the feeling of complete isolation was harder to bear. Fortunately, the tiniest chink of light found its way through where the lid fitted badly and prevented my being in total darkness. I clung to that glimmer as to a lifeline.

I seemed an age before the muffled sound of voices and footsteps announced the return of Irene and Nick. The car’s doors were opened and slammed closed, three times! Besides my expected fellow passengers, therefore, a third had joined us. I was soon enlightened as to that person’s identity. The automobile’s rear shelf was of flimsy construction with air vents either side. Through them I could hear every word that was said.

One speaker’s tones were instantly recognisable. Those of Nick.

“I tell you, this bunch of papers is the last! Their research project has been completed and this is the last. Carson is sure about that.”

“We can’t be certain?” The voice was that of the same veiled creature I’d seen before but now the woman spoke conversationally, no longer in the harsh croak she had adopted in my presence. I didn’t know how she came to be in this place but I knew for sure I’d heard her somewhere before, and recently.

“You can see for yourself. The final page summarises their findings. It’s done!” the man gloated.

“You may be right, but to be on the safe side, keep the man Carson dangling. We may need him. I’ll get this to Anton directly and central will be able to confirm whether there need be more or not. In the meantime, we must discover what the girl knows. While she is safe with Mikhail she can do us no harm. If we are compromised the whole of Grey Falcon must be dissolved while there is time to get away.”

“Irina! You are sure Mikhail knows what we expect?”

That voice! I racked my brains but couldn’t place it.

“Absolutely sure, Aunt Marta.”

Hearing that name, the penny dropped. Marta. Martha! This was in fact Martha, the sweet frail old lady I’d met on the train. I had been awfully slow. The reader will have arrived at the same conclusion long before I did, but when my rescuer said the name recognition finally dawned. My brain started working fifty to the dozen. The reference to Grey Falcon was also illuminating, not a person but a group, a network, that existed to pass on the leaked information. This Marta was key to how the papers were being conveyed. She took it in person the hundreds of miles to her son, Anton, under a perfect cover, and he in turn sent it on to Moscow.

Nick had some sort of hold over Carson and must be taking copies of the papers that were brought to him to pass on to the old lady. That way the originals would not be missed. Memory stirred again as I recalled the logo on the machine in his office which I’d seen before, ‘...x 914’. It just so happened that my college had recently taken delivery of a newfangled bit of kit called a photocopier, a Xerox 914. Why on earth would a nightspot need such an elaborate item? It clearly didn’t, but the spy ring did. Now it all made sense. I needed to get hold of Guy and fast. He desperately needed to know.

While my mind was racing at breakneck speed, the occupants of the car had fallen silent, save for a few commonplace remarks. What was to happen at journey’s end was hard to determine. Being cramped inside the trunk was none too comfortable but I wasn’t anxious to exchange my situation for a more comfortable one when we stopped. The drive seemed interminable but eventually we drew to a halt and after the old woman had taken leave of the others, she alighted.

The car drove on and after a further ten minutes came to a standstill. This time the engine was turned off and both my fellow travellers made their exit. The doors slammed shut and I waited with bated breath for what was to come, my heart pounding so loud that I thought it must be audible outside. Fortunately for me the trunk remained unopened, and footsteps could be heard receding, allowing my respiratory functions to return to normal. Silence fell.

Wondering what might happen next, I tried to lay still. This was all the harder to achieve as first I was subject to a fit of sneezing, which I managed to stifle, then I was plagued by itching sensations in one area of my body then another. Each time I yielded to the intense desire to scratch, some part of me encountered a sharp corner or projection of which I hadn’t been aware beforehand. I was beginning to despair of remaining undiscovered and about to resort to banging on the lid to request any kind of rescue when finally it opened. Blinded by the sudden advent of daylight I found myself staring into the smiling face of Irene. Thankfully she was alone.

“Comfortable?” the girl grinned.

My spirits were too low to attempt a suitable riposte and in answer all I could do was groan.

“Let’s get you out of there. Quickly now! I got away from Nick on the pretext of needing a change of clothes, but how long we’ve got before they find out about Mikhail I can’t imagine” she whispered. “I only live two blocks away so I’ll be expected back here soon. Haste is essential.”

With her assistance I managed to crawl from my hiding place and stretch my contorted limbs which had been twisted into an unnatural pose for too long. We were in the parking lot outside the Continental.

“I’ve brought you this to put on.” Irene handed me a short coat. It was an ugly shade of pink in colour and somewhat perversely I nearly succumbed to a temptation to reject the thing on that ground. It would clash horribly with my turquoise gown, for pity’s sake! In mitigation for this lapse, I can only plead that I had been under considerable stress for hours. Common sense prevailed fortunately, and I wrapped the proffered garment around me without protest. With some difficulty I tucked my billowing robe up underneath so it could no longer be seen.

“Where do we go from here?” my friend queried. For the first time she seemed less self-assured.

Though no clear plan had sprung to mind the welcome sight of a familiar vehicle close-by gave me a glimmer of inspiration. “My car!” I exclaimed with relief. “Let’s go to your place. I’ve an important telephone call to make and… could I borrow a dress? Please?”

I led the way over to that heretofore despised means of transport, searched for the key in my purse and opened the door. Another idea occurred to me, one I considered worthy of Agent J. I could change my appearance. “Keep a lookout please and give me five minutes.”

Inside the car was Mistie’s blonde wig and make-up. I sat myself in the front seat and began my toilette.

In the specified space of time all traces of Jennifer disappeared, and my modelling persona had taken her place.

Irene turned to look at me. Her reaction satisfied the cosmetic artist within me. “Jennifer! It is Jennifer. I wouldn’t have recognised you.”

“Get in, get in!” I cried, and when she had obeyed, “which way to your apartment?”

The part of town where Irene lived bordered a shabby area close to the Continental. Only a block away we turned down a narrow street where grubby kids played and men in shirt sleeves hung about. We halted half-way down the block. Minutes later we were safely inside.
Her apartment comprised two rooms above a dingy funeral parlour. Despite the unpromising externals it was spotlessly clean, and the décor was cheerful. It felt like a home.

“Can I use your phone, and could I borrow some clothes, please?” I removed my coat. “I’m too conspicuous dressed like this.”

I made the call and while I filled Guy in on my discoveries, Irene went in search of some alternative attire for me. It was a relief to get hold of the agent and tell him everything that had occurred. It was a bad line, but I managed to brief him sufficiently. I expected the man to be pleased with my success, but his manner at first seemed somewhat vague, as if these matters were new to him. He told me he’d take care of matters then meet me at my hotel.

“What’s all this about?” Irine questioned me when I’d put down the receiver. “Why are my Aunt and Nick so afraid of you?”

“I’ll explain later. Just now you need to get away from here. If they suspect that you have helped me escape, you may be in real trouble.”

“Oh, that doesn’t worry me” the girl shrugged. “They won’t harm me. I’m family! I’m Marta’s great-niece.”

“But Martha, I mean Marta, she is part of Grey Falcon. She runs the show.”

“I don’t know. Perhaps. There’s some kind of organisation called that; named after her, I guess. Her surname is Sakalas, which means Falcon in Lithuanian. Our family is from Lithuania, all except me. My parents were from back there too, but I was born here. They’re both dead.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It happened such a long time ago that I can’t remember them. Marta and Stefan brought me up. They’ve been good to me. Anyway, in that country falcons are supposed to have a special role in fighting off enemies and evil spirits.”

“Really?”

She laughed. “If you believe in that sort of thing. Anything to do with Grey Falcon has always been very hush-hush, and I’ve never been allowed to get involved. I can’t begin to imagine what it does. All I know about it is that they take themselves very seriously. I expect it just gives them a sense of importance, so what’s the harm?”

I chose not to enlighten her with my own understanding of the organisation’s purpose. I changed the subject instead. “Did you really not recognise me?”

“Not as Jennifer. But, you’re that girl in the commercials, aren’t you? Even when you cover up with that coat, you’re quite an eyeful!” Irene looked at me with undisguised admiration, which was not a little embarrassing. “You must be a real celebrity. I’ve seen you in all the fashion magazines. Just imagine if people knew, you aren’t a girl at all underneath!”

I couldn’t argue with her summation.

I looked at the pile of clothing my protector had brought. There was some underwear, a top and a skirt which went well with it, also some shoes. The skirt was snug around the waist and a little on the short side.

“From my younger days” commented my benefactor.

The shoes fitted well, so thankfully I could discard those too-high sandals I seemed to have been walking in for ever.

Embarrassingly the girl stood and watched me while I changed. I felt it would have sounded ungrateful to ask her to turn away, so I just kept my back to her and hoped she didn’t see too much. She’d already seen everything there was to see, of course, but then I’d been unconscious so that was different. I lost no time in dressing in my borrowed garb. To distract her attention further, I asked for some background information.

“Who is Anton?”

“Apart from being a real dish, he’s Marta’s son, and he’s called Tony by most people. He lives way back somewhere near where you come from, so I’ve only met him a couple of times, worse luck. He’s a photographer, and he is doing all right, I believe. He has his own studio.”

“Called Tiffany’s. Yes, I know. I’ve met him.”

“Have you worked with him then? Oh, I envy you. He can adjust my exposure any day of the week!” she joked.

“What about Nick?” I asked when we had stopped laughing.

“That excuse for a man! Not a relation, I’m glad to say. I don’t trust him an inch and I know him better than most. He’s a nasty piece of work.”

That was certainly true.

“You were quick” she giggled when I had done changing. “I was hoping to enjoy the show. I bet you couldn’t wait to get into my panties!”

I blushed scarlet at the suggestion. That hadn’t been on my mind at all.

Irene was all concern to see my dismay. “My, you are a soft little thing” she murmured and took me in her arms. “Don’t mind me. I’m only teasing you.”

She was taller than me and more sturdily built. I felt like a wisp of fluff in her protective grasp. My recent narrow escape had left me vulnerable, I guess, and the embrace was welcome, though the intimacy did little to restore my composure. The sensation of her lithe body pressed so closely against me was provoking feelings within me I didn’t care to analyse. It was some moments before the girl released me.

I was conscious that time was pressing. “Let’s get out of this place and quickly. I don’t think you’re safe here. There’s a man I want you to meet.”

“Is he good looking?” Irene grinned.

“Very!”

“Then I’m your girl, and how I wish that were true.”

Ignoring the innuendo, I tried to get her to be serious. “Irene!”

“I was actually christened Irina, but I don’t let just anyone know that.”

“Irina, then. You need to be more careful. Come on!”

I led the way down the stair and into the street. Plenty of people were about but no-one seemed to pay us any attention as I took my place in the driving seat.

My companion hesitated.

“Hurry please, Irina” I chided.

She slipped into the seat beside me and shut the car door. “I thought I saw someone watching” she explained. “I can’t be sure.”

“Who?”

“Doesn’t matter, but drive quickly, please.” For the first time I detected a note of fear in the girl’s voice.

Guy had decided we should go to the safe haven that my hotel represented and there he would join us. Leaving the car in the garage, we took the back stairs to my room so neither of us would be seen. My companion seemed to have regained her usual sang-froid.

“How lovely” she exclaimed, looking about her. “You do yourself pretty well for one so young. I could get used to all this luxury!”

“It’s part of the job, that’s all. The rest of modelling isn’t all that glamorous. There’s a lot of waiting around, and studios are always too hot or too cold. It isn’t all fun.”

“Don’t!” Irina mimed playing a sad violin. “You will have me in tears soon.”

My unsympathetic friend grinned and deftly caught the cushion I threw at her.

“I’m for the shower” I laughed.

I didn’t hurry myself in the bathroom. Happy in the knowledge we were safe, I started to relax. Perhaps my life might now get back to some kind of normality. My ablutions complete, I slipped on a pretty chemise and feeling pleased with my looks I emerged.

“I thought I’d follow you into the shower” my companion smiled dreamily “and then it will be my turn to borrow some clothes.”

I was startled to see that Irina was already undressed down to her under things. In nothing but black lingerie and hose, she looked provocatively attractive. I was only slightly more decent myself. The intimacy of our situation stirred feelings within me I didn’t stop to examine.

“Let me look at you” she exclaimed taking hold of my hands. “So… This is the real you, or one of them. A boy with breasts or a girl with that extra something. Either way suits me fine. Come here!”

I’d like to be able to say I pushed Irina away when she took me in her arms. I didn’t. Partly I still felt vulnerable and needed reassurance. Partly I sensed her own aloneness and fragility but there was also an element of pure desire of which I’m not very proud.

We had been lying on the bed, locked in each other’s arms, for longer than I care to remember, when there was a tap at the door. Guy! I didn’t want him to see us like this. As if paralysed I stared helplessly into my partner’s eyes. They were dark and held depths of mystery, I noted.
Probably her Slavic origins, I decided idly. It was as if time stood still.

The caller knocked again.

“I’ll go” declared Irina, “as I’m on top.” She grinned mischievously. “And I’ve mussed your makeup. You look as if you have been dragged through the mill. Go and see to your hair.” The girl wrapped herself in one of the fleecy bathrobe’s thoughtfully provided by the hotel, and headed towards the door, while I ran into the bathroom. Distantly, as I tried to mend my looks in front of the glass, I heard the door open.

Something was said, I couldn’t distinguish the words, then it closed again.

Hastily I completed my toilette and donned another of those bathrobes before stepping back into the bedroom. To my surprise Irina was alone. She stood by the door, smiling a strange smile. She seemed to have an unearthly beauty about her.

“Where’s Guy?” I asked.

Irina stretched out a hand and stepped towards me. The other was clasped to her side in an ungainly posture. The seemed to be some kind of dark stain beneath it which was gradually spreading.

“Irina!”

The girl slid silently to the floor. Oh no! I ran to her and, kneeling, took her in my arms, but… she was lifeless as stone.

I was still holding her when Guy finally arrived. Wordlessly he helped me lay her beautiful form on the bed. “I should have been here sooner” he muttered angrily.

Much later, after officialdom had done its grizzly work, I had some burning questions to ask of him.

“I think it was that man, Nick Saunders, that did it. I think she said his name when she opened the door. But how… how did he know she would be here?”

“Her phone was tapped” stated Guy flatly. “Your call to me was overheard. They clearly didn’t trust her. I blame myself. I should have expected that. We’ll check but of course it’s too late now.”

“Why kill her? And… why not both of us?”

“Killing you would have done them no good as you had already told me all you knew. On the other hand, with your friend, it was a case of revenge. One of their own had betrayed them.”

“But she wasn’t one of them. She knew nothing of what they were about.”

“Not how the Comintern see things, I’m afraid. There are no half-measures with them.”

“I should have saved her” I murmured, but I didn’t know how. I shook my head sadly. “Oh Irina.” The tears started to flow. “You must catch Nick… and the others” I sobbed.

Guy put an arm around me and pulled my head to his shoulder.

“The others, as you put it, have already fled. Once they realised you had escaped from that place, they knew the jig was up. Marta Sakalas and Stefan are on their way to Havana as we speak, along with Carson. Anton is on a flight to Hamburg. We’ll pick up Mr Saunders, however. He has nowhere to run.”

“But the papers! The formula! They’ve got them!”

“True.”

I looked at the man angrily. “Why didn’t you arrest Carson when you had the chance? It means we’ve lost.”

“I wouldn’t quite say that.”

I gazed in disbelief. What…?

“All right. I’m going to tell you something now that you must never repeat. Not to your Rachel, not to anyone. In fact, you must never mention what you have been engaged in during these past days.”

“Never?”

“Not for fifty years or so.” He looked very serious. “The formula, as you call it, is bogus. If our scientists are to be believed, the new rocket fuel doesn’t work once you neutralise its instability. So, all efforts to try and control that volatility will be fruitless. It’s been proved not to work, if you like.”

“But why… Why go to all this trouble? Why not just arrest the lot of them? Why…?”

“Because” Guy interrupted. “Because we don’t want the Russians to know what we know. They’re presently investing a huge amount of time and money, trying to get this more powerful propellant to work. Thanks to Carson’s leaked data, they will spend weeks and weeks more, chasing their tails in fruitless research.”

I looked my astonishment. “But why involve me?”

“Well, it’s simple. We needed an amateur.”

The word stung! An amateur! So much for Agent J.

“We didn’t want to let on that we knew what they were up to all along. Waters’ investigation had drawn a blank before they killed him. They think you are a friend of Carson’s and stumbled across their activities pretty much by accident. You were indulging your inquisitive girlish nature, so it seemed.”

The idea of me blundering aimlessly about and falling into that hornet’s nest wasn’t a comfortable one, but Guy’s take on it was reassuring.

“You can be proud of yourself. Your courage has given credence to the information the Soviets have been fed with. Owing to you, they will waste precious months in futile experimentation and that will give our boys the chance to catch up and hopefully to get ahead.”

The man paused to gauge the effect of his words. “It’s all a matter of time.”

I was stunned. We had won, after all. “So that’s what it’s all been for.”

Guy nodded. I stared at him, trying to comprehend this latest twist. I hazarded a guess. “Carson’s on our side, isn’t he?”

The agent looked uncomfortable at my wild surmise. Eventually he admonished “Don’t ever say that again. All I can say is that he’s a brave man.”

I knew I’d been right in taking to the technician. The image of the man contending with who knew what dangers alone in Moscow wasn’t a happy one. I hoped he would stay safe.

“But Irina…” I couldn’t go on. Grief overtook me again.

Some hours later, when I’d digested matters, I felt a little happier. The knowledge that the whole unpleasant episode hadn’t been in vain was soothing. More importantly, though Irina had given her life unknowingly, it had been in a cause which had value for the free world. So matters seemed to me.

The next day everything in my life was back to normality. More modelling. More hanging around and waiting. It was as if nothing had happened. However, when I’d completed what should have been my last day at the studio, Maurice turned up there again and collared me.

“I’ve some bad news for you. The Tiffany studio has closed. I don’t know what the reason is. I can’t get hold of Tony. I’ve asked the studio here to complete the unfinished shoot that he started. If you are agreeable, you will need to stay here a bit longer than you planned. You don’t object to remaining two more days, do you?”

I didn’t mind at all, though I was missing Rachel more and more. The delay gave me some space to adjust to the everyday stream of life that was about to sweep me remorselessly onwards, also a chance for moments of reflection over what had occurred. Moreover, it made it easier for me to attend a quiet funeral. There were few mourners, and none shed more tears than I.

Sworn to secrecy, when I got home I couldn’t tell Rachel anything of the brief adventures of Agent J, for which I was grateful. It would have been hard to explain my emotions regarding Irina and I was glad to be spared that. As matters stood, she naturally wanted to know every detail of how I’d spent my days away and though I told her as much as I was allowed to say, it was clear that there were gaps.

“What did you do with yourself?”

“Oh… sightseeing, mainly.” It was sort of true!

“I’m really glad you’re back again” she concluded. “I’m grateful for all the money you earn, but I sometimes think that all this modelling work you do is a huge waste of time.”

I had to agree with her. I put my arms around her and smiled into her eyes. “You’re right. I would say that that perfectly sums up what I’ve been doing while I’ve been away. I was simply wasting time.”

Yes, that was it.

“Wasting precious time!”

The end