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by Tanya Allan |
| Seventeen-year old Matthew Thwaites is trapped snooping in his father’s study when his father returns home unexpectedly with two strange men. He hides under the desk, and is horrified to witness his father gunned down just inches away from him. Given an opportunity to flee, he does so, but finds himself framed for his father’s murder by a corrupt policeman. Alone and powerless, he hides out at a busy airport, but his appearance is such that he is mistaken for a girl. Given an idea, he makes the most of this, and goes whole hog into the deception, becoming Monique, his French ‘cousin’. He manages to find an ally in an officer investigating corruption amongst police officers, and together they try to piece together the puzzle. Monique is then pitched into an international roller-coaster ride involving terrorists, corrupt police and double agents. No one is what they seem, particularly Monique. She is twice the person that Matthew ever was, and given the chance, she decides to take over, but everything seems against her. |
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Originally written and posted on Sapphire's Place in 2004, Reworked & Revised in 2009.
The Legal Stuff:Monique ©2004, 2009 Tanya Allan
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited.
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
I first wrote MONIQUE many years ago, posting it on Sapphire’s Place in 2004. I have had many requests to continue Monique’s adventures, so thought I’d revisit her and see what could be done. Initially, I was appalled at the standard of writing; well it was my first attempt, almost. Then I wondered why it had been so popular, as I personally found it rather rushed and the characters somewhat shallow and two-dimensional.
Okay, I thought, perhaps I should continue, but not from what I had written. It needed a revamp and perhaps a tweak here and there before I even could consider any additional material.
So, here it is, the revamped version of Monique, with a little extra and the hope that her adventures will continue in the near future. I have started with a completely new chapter at the end, just to whet your appetites.
Chapter 21
Sunday was very quiet, so I managed to do my washing. Gary came over to see if I wanted to go to a movie. I declined, as I had a veritable mountain of ironing. So, instead, he stayed and kept me company as I ironed. It was clear he was falling for me, as he sacrificed seeing Men in Black II to watch me iron my underwear. Mind you, I did have some very sexy underwear.
Boys were not allowed upstairs in the house, neither were they allowed between 9pm and 7am. So as he sat on the windowsill in the utility room, his presence was the subject of much speculation and rumour amongst the other girls.
As I was ironing, I took a call from Chris. He told me that they had found Aziz’s house, and had surveillance in place. The man he had met was known to the CIA, the FBI and several police forces for various reasons, mainly relating to firearms and handling stolen goods. A surveillance team was on his tail as well, so my instructions were just to sit tight, and carry on as normal.
“Who was that?” Gary asked.
“Just a friend, wanting to know if I am free next week.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Does it matter?”
“I guess not,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “I have to be honest, Monique, I find myself with feelings towards you.”
“I had guessed. I may not be American, but I am pretty sharp,” I said, and he laughed.
“The guy in England, just how serious is it?”
I looked at him, and he was desperately earnest.
“Last night, on the phone, he asked me to marry him again.”
“Oh. And what did you say?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh. Have I got a chance?”
“Gary, don’t get me wrong, I like you, but I am strictly faithful. Alex and I share a lot, so I won’t betray him. Please do not ask me to. I am happy to be a friend, but I will not be anything more. Okay?”
He nodded, clearly disappointed.
“It’s just that in the last three years, you’re the only girl who I have found to have the qualities I value. You’re beautiful, intelligent, funny and responsible about your body,” he said.
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“But, I would be pleased to have you as a friend,” he said, smiling gently.
Once the rather heavy subject was dealt with, we chatted about many things. I felt that he would still try to develop our relationship to something more.
As far as the rest of the girls in the house were concerned, we were an item from that moment. Stacey and Rachel knew the realities of life, but actually, it was quite useful. I was constantly being pestered by young men eager to get to know me better, so as soon as it was generally understood that I was ‘seeing’ the biggest and strongest young man on campus, I was left alone.
Gary would take every opportunity to walk with me across campus, even if it meant going out of his way. I found it quite useful, as one day he stated he was going to a tutorial at Mr Iqbal’s house, and did I want to go to a movie afterwards?
I agreed, saying I would meet him at the house and go on from there.
So, after notifying my control, I collected a small package off one of the ‘ground staff’ and set off for the house on First Avenue. I was dressed in a totally different way to that day in Zurich. Then, I had been in dark slacks and dark top, so this time I was in a short brightly coloured skirt, long boots and a bright woolly sweater. My hair was red, and I wore wraparound sunglasses to keep the autumn sun out of my eyes. I had a long woollen scarf, which had every colour of the rainbow on it.
I found the house and waited outside. I managed to place the magnetic bug under the car parked on the driveway. Then I noticed a telephone company van just a block away, with an engineer up a pole. No prizes for guessing who they were. A few minutes after I arrived, the tutorial finished, so about ten students left the house, Gary was one of the first out. He was eager to be with me, his soppy grin said it all. I allowed him to kiss me, and noticed Aziz’s face peering out the window at us. His glance swept over us, resting on the phone company van down the road.
I took my mobile out and called in. Gary was chatting aimlessly about the plans for the evening.
“Hi. It’s Monique, you are made, he fancies you,” I said.
“He’s made the van?”
“Yes, he really noticed you at lunch. I think he will try something soon,” I said.
“Good work. Did you put the item in place?” the voice said.
“Yes, of course,” I said, and the line went dead.
I waffled on as if I was talking to a girl friend, and then finished.
“Who was that?” Gary asked.
“Stacey. There is a guy hitting on her.”
“Oh,” he said, losing interest. I took his arm and we walked to his car. As we drove out and past the house, I noticed the telephone van leaving. The face was at the window, watching the van as well.
“So, how was your tutorial?” I asked.
“Okay, I guess. I’m not sure that I understand the Arabs.” He pronounced them A-rabs, as many Americans were prone to.
“Is your tutor interesting?”
“Mr Aziz? He’s okay I guess. He seemed distracted today. He’s obviously waiting for someone, but hey, we got off early. So who’s complaining?”
We arrived at the movie theatre, so I went to the ladies and phoned in again.
“Our man is nervous, as it seems he is waiting for someone or something,” I said.
“Got it. Thanks.”
I returned to Gary in the lobby and we went to take our seats. He was quite pleased, as now he got to see MIB II.
His arms appeared across my shoulders just after the titles finished, and stayed there for the duration. Occasionally he tried a little caressing and a fumble, but I was not either in the mood, or willing to get in the mood. But the movie was good, and we went for a meal afterwards at a local House of Pancakes.
As we returned to campus, we drove down First Avenue, and as soon as I saw the flashing emergency lights, I knew something had gone wrong.
We were stopped by a police unit, who had put a cordon across the road.
There were three fire trucks and an ambulance outside Aziz’s house, several police cars and a few plain cars.
“What happened officer?” Gary asked.
“Nothing to worry about, son. Just turn round and find another route,” said the state trooper.
We had no choice, so eventually Gary dropped me at the house. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and he just smiled.
“Thanks for coming out with me. It’s been good,” he said.
“I enjoyed it, but please realise, I really am spoken for,” I said.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, Monique, I guess I keep hoping that you and I could get it together.”
“Gary, you are sweet, and under different circumstances, I would be flattered. But, right now, I have to say no. Just friends, okay?”
“Okay,” he said, kissing my cheek.
I smiled and went in.
I went to my room, close the door, and called in. Chris answered.
“I’m back. What happened?”
“Our man made a bolt for it, but we managed to get a tail on him. A team was about to go in to his address, when it blew up. A couple of the guys were hurt, but not seriously,” he told me.
“Where has he gone?”
“He got to the airport, but then we lost him.”
“Chris. How stupid was that?”
“I don’t need a lecture from you, girl,” he said.
“Okay, so what do I do now?”
“Stay there for the semester. In case he makes contact with any of his students.”
“Shit, you have no idea how difficult it is to keep this bloody accent up.” I said.
“Then just get better with English, and lose the accent gradually.”
“Thanks chum,” I said, and he laughed.
“We’ll call you if we get a trace.”
“Okay.”
I rang off.
I took off my coat, and was just trying to get my head round what had happened, when there was a knock on my door. I opened it, it was Stacey.
“Hi, Monique, I thought I heard you come in. Have you heard what happened?”
“What about? We saw the fire trucks in First Avenue. It was Mr Iqbal’s house, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, did they tell you what happened?”
“No, a policeman told us to go another way.”
“Oh, damn. Still, how did the date go?”
“Okay, the movie was good and we had a nice meal.”
“Did Gary try anything?”
“A little, but I wasn’t playing.”
“Spoilsport.”
“I know, but that’s the way I am.”
“Alex is a very lucky guy.”
“So he keeps telling me.”
“Hey your English is better. Your accent is less pronounced.”
“They said that would happen. As I speak it all the time, and hear it as it should be, I guess, I just change the way I speak. Already I have learned to think in English, instead of translating everything first.”
“That’s cool. Hey, maybe you could teach me French.”
“Okay, but you will have to come to France to learn properly.”
“That’s a deal.”
The next day, the campus was rife with rumours about what had happened. As September the 11th was already recent history, speculation about ‘Mr Iqbal’s’ affiliation to various terrorist groups was the main topic of conversation.
I asked Gary for his opinion, but he just shrugged. He didn’t have one, as the guy just set assignments and corrected his papers. He could have been a terrorist, or a Baptist minister for all he knew.
I just got on with being a student, so, almost before I knew it, the Christmas break was upon us.
“What are you doing for Christmas?” Stacey asked.
“I’ve been asked to go to Scotland for Christmas,” I said, with a smile.
“Oh. I get it. Alex’s last Christmas before he goes into the Army?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, if it blows out, you can always come and stay with us. I know Mom and Daddy would love to have you.”
“Thanks Stacey, I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Are you coming back in the New Year?”
“I don’t know. It depends on the college board.”
“I’ll miss you if you go back to France,” she admitted.
“Hey, you get your degree this year, so then you do what you want.”
Later, when I was walking back to the house during the chilly afternoon, a blacked out Ford UV pulled up alongside me.
“Jump in then, girl,” said Chris.
I got in the back. There were three others, including Chris, already in the vehicle.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Pretty good. There’s no news about our man, no one knows anything.”
“We’ve traced him to South America. He’s in Columbia.”
“Oh, I can’t help there, my Spanish is bloody awful.”
“We don’t want you to. We want you to stay here.”
“Why?”
“Because your assignments have given the faculty some problems.” Chris said with a smile.
I frowned.
“Oh?”
“You see, your cover is so perfect, they really believe you are French, so they have even contacted your sending college in France, the one we arranged this charade through. They want you to stay on and finish the year.”
“Why?”
“Because your results in the assignments and essays are the best they’ve had in years. If you last until June, then they will give you a diploma.”
I stared at him, completely flabbergasted.
“But I have only done a few months.”
“Don’t knock it kid. They’re going to award you a special diploma, for an overseas student.”
“Shit,” I said.
“That’s a fine example of our fine education we’re paying for,” he said, with a grin.
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s all a matter of politics and publicity. The students they get from overseas bring in extra revenue. If they are seen to give out valid qualifications to foreign students, then they may attract more, and more students mean more money, which means…”
“Okay, the capitalist dream, I get it now. So I’m just a pawn?”
“Maybe, but you get to walk away with a diploma in American studies. And for what, eight months work?”
I grinned.
“So am I allowed to?”
“The Director reckons you need to further your education, so he has authorised it. So from now on, you’re just a student.”
“Cool,” I said, and I couldn’t wait to ring Alex.
Chapter 22
“And now, a special award for some special students. As you know, the University has had an exchange programme running for a few years now, and this year has seen several young men and women from across the globe join us for part of their education. Well, today we have seen our own young graduate and receive their awards, so to, we pay tribute to six young people who have stayed with us for a year, so have now been awarded special diplomas in their chosen fields. Some will go on to complete their education at home, or even remain in the United States, but to all who have had the additional burden of working in a foreign language, we have been grateful to have had you with us. We are all much richer because of you.”
It was late May, and I was seated with the other foreign students, next to Rachel. The Dean was waffling and I was feeling the heat. We were wearing rented robes and mortar-boards, so I felt a complete fraud.
I had flown to Scotland on the 21st December and met Alex’s family. They had all turned up at Edinburgh Airport to meet me, and such was the greeting that I almost burst into tears. Alex’s mother, Eileen, was a lovely lady, and although she looked nothing like Mama, she reminded me of her in so many ways, as she was so warm and loving. My mother had been blonde and quite petite, but Eileen Drummond was a big woman with red hair. She wasn’t fat, but she was what eighteenth century artists would have called voluptuous.
They lived in a large house just outside the city, where Alex’s mother had turned the rather plain garden into a super place. Although now in mid winter, I could see the borders and features and imagined that in summer it was a riot of colour and fun.
Becky and Roz were typical teenagers, so were very curious to see the paragon that their big brother had described to them. I had realised that I would have some way to go to live up to the picture he would have painted of me, so I had dug out some of my best continental clothes and re-coloured my hair back to blonde.
As I had walked, pushing my luggage trolley into the arrivals concourse, dressed in my black angora dress and my mother's diamond earrings. I had got my make up just right and I knew my stocking seams were straight, as I had spent nearly half the flight making sure they were. The businessman sitting next to me on the flight had tried his best to charm his way into my affections, as I had been at my most French. I had teased him unmercifully, only to tell him I was almost engaged to an army officer.
Alex saw me immediately and Andy just after him. Alex just smiled, at which I felt my heart just melt. I knew at that moment that he was the man for me, so resolved to tell him so at the first opportune moment. Andy just watched his son with a curious smile, while his mother was still looking at each person in turn.
One of the girls, Roz I think, glanced at her brother, saw his features change as he recognised me, so followed his line of sight, thereby saw me. Her mouth opened and closed again, but then she nudged her sister and pointed my way. Both smiled and turned to their mother. By this time I was upon them, so Alex just held out his arms and I melted into them.
It was like coming home. We had been apart for nearly four months and he smelled just like I remembered.
“Welcome home,” he whispered to me, as if reading my mind.
I reluctantly broke off our hug, to let him introduce his mother and sisters to me. I was surprised as I got a warm hug from each of them, and then Andy hugged me at the end.
“We’ve heard so much about you, Monique, it’s as if we’ve known you for ages,” Eileen said.
Roz and Becky pushed my trolley, so I put my arm in Alex’s.
We went to the car park, where I discovered that they had a Toyota Land Cruiser. Soon we were well on the way to their home and I was so happy to be next to Alex at last. As we pulled into the drive and I saw the large grey house, it seemed very familiar, yet I had never been here before.
“It’s so funny, I almost feel that I’m coming home. Silly isn’t it?” I said.
“Not at all. Wherever you are. That’s home for me,” Alex said, and I had to work hard not to cry.
They had given me my own room that just happened to be next door to Alex’s room. I unpacked, while he lay on my bed grinning like a fool. The girls helped me unpack and were amazed at the amount of clothes I had brought for only ten days.
“What you have to realise is that Monique has a distressing illness,” Alex said, as the girls looked horrified at me.
“Aye, she can’t pass a ladies’ clothes shop without buying something in it,” he said, so I threw a pair of shoes at him.
“What you guys don’t realise is that I don’t actually have anywhere to live. I have a room at University, but that’s it. My sister and I have sold the family home in London, so I have to take everything with me wherever I go.”
“Are you really French?” Becky asked.
“Yes.”
“But you don’t sound French.”
“Comment environ maintenant? Est-ce que je sonne français maintenant?” I said.
“Oh,” she said.
I smiled.
“My mother was French and my dad was English. So I’m both,” I said.
“Cool.”
“Hey, shall we go Christmas shopping tomorrow?” Alex asked, trying to steer the subject away from my personal life. He was more sensitive about my background than I was. I smiled, as I imagined him introducing me to people: ‘this is my fiancée, Monique, who is pretending to be French, but actually works for the CIA and kills people.’ I thought it was just as well he didn’t know that I was an heiress to millions and used to be a boy. I knew that eventually I would have to tell him.
We went down stairs and Eileen put on the kettle for tea. I found them a warm and happy family, so as I had missed out on such a luxury for many years, I was only too happy to fit in as best as I could. At one point, Alex and the girls were running some errand or other, leaving Eileen and I alone in the kitchen.
“Alex has kept us all amused over the last few weeks,” she said, with a smile.
“Oh?”
“Once you called to say you would be able to come, he became a right royal pain in the arse. It was as if he had two personalities, one gloomy and dull, and suddenly he became this bouncy, chirpy character, who, as your arrival drew near, managed to get up everyone’s nose.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. It’s so nice to meet you at last. I felt really hard done by when the two boys came home and all they both did was sing your praises. I was so pleased, as Alex seems to have come right out of his shell, so I can only put that down to you.”
“Oh, I think he always had it in him.” I said.
“I agree, but it took a special someone to bring it out. He’s a very different boy to six months ago.”
“He’s very special to me,” I said, and she looked closely at me.
“I saw your ring. Does it mean what I think it does?”
I smiled, holding my left hand out. The little blue stone winked at me.
“He has asked me to marry him at least five hundred times. I put this on here just in case I actually say yes. But I thought it best that we both get further along life’s path before committing ourselves to marriage,” I said. “But I have every intention of saying yes after he passes out from Sandhurst, if he still wants me.”
Eileen nodded.
“Very wise, I kept telling him to wait, but he told me that he’s made his mind up, and that’s that. The amount of girls who have almost flung themselves at him recently is remarkable, but he has simply said he is already accounted for, so won’t even look at them.”
I just smiled.
“I know what he feels like. I’ve had a lot of very nice boys trying to persuade me that he’s not worth saving myself for. But, you see, I happen to love your son very much.”
Eileen gave me a hug, and I could see she was close to tears.
“I’m so pleased, for you both. I know when I met Andy, it was the same, we both knew, and the rest of the world no longer mattered.”
Andy chose that moment to enter the kitchen and he laughed.
“Why is it I have this knack of always walking in on a member of my family hugging Monique?” he said, still chuckling.
“I think it likely that Monique will be our daughter-in-law before too long,” Eileen said.
“Oh, I’ve known that since I first met her in London. Alex would be a complete arse to let her get away,” he said.
Christmas was the best I had ever had. I missed Mama dreadfully, but somehow felt she would have approved of my ‘adopted’ family. I gave Alex a stocking full of small gifts that I had put together, but then I told him that I would marry him, on the condition that he attained his commission and still wanted to marry me. He hugged me so hard, I thought my spine would snap. But, I told him that any formal announcement would have to wait until after he passed out of Sandhurst.
It was like a dream, with everything and everyone being so wonderful. I had enough money to buy the family really nice gifts, but I was embarrassed by their generosity to me. Needless to say, I managed to buy some more clothes, which the girls found hilarious.
Alex and I managed to sneak together for some of the nights and made love at every opportunity. I had visited the campus medical centre about a month or so before the Christmas break, so was now taking the pill. Our sex sessions were such a joy, I doubt whether we managed to be quiet enough to remain undiscovered.
At Christmas lunch, the whole extended family was there, sitting eighteen round their huge dining table. Alex announced to the assembled mass that we were now engaged, under certain conditions, and that it was the best Christmas gift I could have given him. The family were so accepting of me, that I burst into tears, only to find that nearly everyone else had as well.
The holiday passed in a flash, so soon it was time for me to leave. Leaving was so hard. In Eileen, I had come to see another mother, and I felt she understood. The girls were fun, having become the sisters I had never had, and in Andy I saw the father that my father had never been.
Alex was flying to Heathrow with me, as he was going to start Sandhurst in a couple of days, so he wanted to see me for as long as possible. We sat together in the Airport until I had to go through and catch my flight back to Washington.
We had grown up and he was now twenty. We were both convinced that marriage was right, but were in no rush to tie the knot. I was content for him to know that I was his and he was mine.
Our goodbye was long and tearful, yet we knew that in a few months we would be able to be together more.
As my plane took off, I looked down on the airport that had been the first place to which I had fled after my father had been murdered. Still, I always seemed to be passing through. I knew I was now a very different person to that frightened and confused soul that night.
My attention was brought back to the graduation ceremony, as people started to applaud. We were all issued with our scrolls and had our photographs taken. I had one taken with Wayne and Gary, two of the biggest and hunkiest guys in the year, both of whom were now my good friends.
Rachel and the other overseas students grabbed me and we had our picture taken, so then Stacey wanted one taken with her. The General, her dad, winked at me in a conspiratorial manner and thanked me for keeping her safe.
I promised not to lose touch, and we all had a very emotional time saying farewell. Eventually, I was left at the side of the road, with by bags all packed. The ubiquitous Ford pulled up, so soon I was on my way back to Langley.
Chris was waiting for me and smiled as my huge pile of luggage filled his office. I slumped into a chair, exhausted.
“Well done kid. You did brilliantly.”
“Thanks, but he’s still out there.”
“He is, but we have a man on him.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He has moved, as he’s in North Africa now.”
“What’s his game?”
“He’s trying to pool his scattered resources. He lost a fortune when the Zurich job went down, so now he is trying to fight his way back up. He has access to funds, but not as easily as before.”
“What was he doing in the University?”
“We don’t really know. The man you saw him with is an arms dealer. So I think he is trying to negotiate a deal. But whether it’s guns or explosives, and why, who knows?”
“So, what do I do now?”
“One of Aziz’s men has been left in post. He is a serving U.S. Air Force Major, and seems above reproach. It was deemed politic to leave him alone and let him believe he was in the clear. We want to let him give us what ever he knows about Aziz’s plans. If we wheeled him in and he gave us nothing, we will have nothing. But, if he was to be allowed to show us what the plans are, then we get both.”
“So?”
“He has been in Military Intelligence for many years, so knows most of the players. He doesn’t know you. And the General has asked for you by name.”
“The General?”
The door opened and Howard Munroe stood there.
“Have you told her yet?” he asked.
“Not yet, General, I was just about to.”
I looked from one to the other. I had seen the General only a couple of hours before, at Stacey’s graduation.
“I have the family in the car, I said I had to check on some things,” he said, grinning.
“Why me? Not that I am objecting, but there must be better people for the job?” I asked.
“You come highly recommended, and besides, you expressed a desire to wear a sexy uniform,” he said.
“As long as I don’t have to keep the French accent going,” I said.
“You may have to adopt more of a home grown one,” Chris said with a grin.
“You’re going to an Air Force Base, to a training wing, just for a couple of weeks. You recall that you have held a commission in the Air force since graduating from the camp in Virginia?”
I nodded, a formality, I had thought.
“Well, we need just to finish off the training. You’re up to speed on the IT systems, but we need to make you a little more military,” Howard said.
“As long as I can get to Sandhurst by the 7th July,” I said.
Howard nodded. “Your young man?”
“Yes.”
“So that part was true?”
“Very much so.”
He smiled. “I think we can do better than that.”
“How?”
“You’ll find out. But, you need to explain to Stacey who you really are. She’s a friend, so I feel she needs the truth, this way you won’t compromise your position. How you do it is up to you.”
I agreed, but wanted some time to myself first.
“Come by for dinner when you’ve finished your course, okay?” Howard said.
“Yes Sir,” I said, and saluted him.
He laughed and left us.
I spent three days with Chris, so by the time I was taken to the Academy, I was blonde again, and dressed in the uniform of a first lieutenant in the US Air Force. My name was now officially Monique Bonnard, just for a change. Apparently I had been promoted.
Chapter 23
I had arrived on the Monday, having been given my uniform at Langley. I was dressed in the blue skirt, white blouse and blue tunic, with stockings and court shoes. My hair I had managed to put up, but the hat I wore felt really odd. I had my Lieutenant’s bars on my shoulders, and a couple of medals above my left breast. Chris had told me that they were for Zurich. One was for the work I had undertaken, while another was for being wounded in the line of duty. I had the Intelligence badge, so felt very cool.
I was given my first car, a Mazda MX-5. Chris said that it was in keeping with my image. All I know is I had a huge grin on my face from the moment I slid behind the wheel. It was even registered in my name. I reported to the main gate, where I was saluted by the USAF SP man on the gate. He checked my ID card, found my name on the list, gave me a car pass and instructed me where to park.
I parked the car and walked to the reception. I had to carry my bag in my left hand, as I repeatedly had to return salutes. I checked in with reception and was shown my room in the Officers Quarters. It was a two-week course, so I was to stay here for the duration.
The course was quite basic and sought to reinforce previous training for those officers who were either reservists going regular, or for those who had been on secondment in special posts for some time, and were out of touch with current policy and procedures. I was an Intelligence Officer, as were a few of the others. I was also one of only three women amongst twenty-five men.
I found that after the previous course, it was very relaxed and lax. I still rose at 06:00 to go for a run, and undertook my training programme in the gym every day. I took a pride in my uniform, but had to admit that I now had the right figure. I learned how to bull my shoes in the cadets at school, so now I ensured that I was as immaculate as I could be.
I was relaxed and able to be myself, almost. I had no difficulty with my accent, as I did not have to try to be anything different. To make it slightly easier, I slipped into a New England accent and no one questioned my roots at all.
I had been a bit worried that I would be exposed as a fraud, in that I had no previous military training and it would show. But I needn’t have worried. I think I was the most military-minded of them all. I know I got some funny looks when I was up so early every morning and running four or five miles before breakfast.
In the IT sessions, I was streets ahead of most of the others, so was even able to help the slower members of the group. I found the input was very valuable and loved every minute of it. I had always been interested in programming and computer languages, but most of my knowledge was about a year out of date. Compared to the majority of the group, I was years ahead.
I enjoyed the course, but kept myself a little distant from the others. This was not hard, as I was nearly ten years younger than the next youngest person, and was one of seven unmarried or unattached officers.
I attracted most attention in the gym, where I was anonymous. I had no rank insignia on my training vest, and I was able to converse with whoever was there without the built-in barrier of rank. There was a group of senior NCOs who were on a heavy weights programme, and I was usually in the gym at the same time. I was, to my knowledge, about the only female who used the gym regularly on a daily basis.
In the middle of one session towards the end of the second week, one of the guys, who had just bench-pressed the weight equivalent of my car, came over and watched me.
“I never knew this was a spectator sport,” I said, between weights.
“Hell honey, the way you do it, it sure should be,” he said with a grin.
“Is that a compliment or an insult?”
“Take it how you see it.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment. Thanks.”
“You sure are welcome. I’m Luke. Luke Gray.”
“I’m Monique.”
“I’ve seen you in here before.”
“Observant as well. Lucky me.”
He laughed. “What course are you on?”
“IT and intel stuff,” I said.
“Oh, I’m on Nav/comms.”
“So, you’re flight crew?”
“Yup, you?”
“Intelligence.”
He frowned, as usually only officers were on the intelligence courses. I laughed.
“So, where are you from?” I asked, changing the topic fast.
“South Carolina, you?”
“All over. But recently, Maryland.”
“You have a New England accent.”
“How strange,” I said, and he laughed.
“You’re an officer, ain’t ya?”
“Does it show?”
He nodded. “Unfortunately. You’ve a precise way of talking. You been to University as well?”
“That shows too, does it?” I said, as I finished the lateral pull-downs.
“You have real good muscle tone.”
“As a chat up line, I’ve heard it. As an observation, thanks,” I said and smiled. He glanced at my left hand.
“It just ain’t my day. The best looking girl in ages, and now I find she’s an officer, and I bet you are engaged to an officer?”
I grinned.
“Army,” I said, and he shook his head.
“Are you too proud to join me for a beer, or will you get into shit for fraternising?” he asked.
“Where and when?”
“Short walk from the main gate. Meet you there at six?”
“Okay, no uniform, no rank.”
“Shit, you will?”
“Why not?”
He grinned. “Okay, I’ll see you at six.”
I smiled as he dashed off. I could do with some social fun. The officers club was so stuffy, and I only had a couple of days to go.
I dressed down, with a pair of jeans, cowboy boots on the outside and a very tight black tee shirt with ‘Too much sex makes you short sighted.” in fading white lettering. I had my leather jacket, and let my now very long hair down.
I was a couple of minutes late, so found he was already waiting for me.
“Sorry I’m late, I had to find my brain,” I said, and this made him laugh. It was common knowledge that all officers had their brains removed.
“You ain’t that late, and boy, you sure look good,” he said. I blushed.
We walked about three blocks, to where there was a small bar set back from the road.
“This here is the unofficial non-coms club,” he said, as we went in.
It seemed much smaller from the outside, as it stretched back quite a way. There were a couple of pool tables out in the back, with booths all around. There was a long bar down one sidewall, with bar stools. We went and sat on a couple of these.
“Hi Luke. Who’s the lovely lady?” said the barman.
“Hey Wally, how’re doin’? This here is Monique.”
“Hi Monique. What ya doin’ with this guy? He’s no good, ya hear.” Wally said, so I smiled.
“What can I get you folks?”
Luke looked at me.
“Beer is fine, Bud, Miller, or whatever,” I said.
“They do a good draught here.” he said.
“Fine, not a big one though,” I said.
A couple of guys came over, curious to meet Luke’s new friend.
“Hey, Monique, this here is Sam, and Chuck. They’re both top sergeants on the cargo Galaxies. You know the big ones?”
“Hi guys, I know the C-5s well, thanks all the same Luke,” I said. He grinned and shook his head.
“What the hell is a nice girl like you doin’ with this guy?” Sam, the elder one, asked.
“Ah, well you may ask. I don’t know - he promised to take me away from all that, and led me to all this,” I said, taking a long drink of my cold beer.
The guys sat down.
“Are you with the military, Monique?” Chuck asked.
“Might be,” I said, with a grin. “What do you say we forget all that tonight. Who’ll give me a game of pool?”
So we went to the back, where Sam got set to cream me at pool. I had played a lot of snooker in England, plus the occasional game of pool, but I was surprised at the way my new anatomy got in the way. I took it careful the first game and decided to let him win, so I could gauge the table and my opposition.
I gave him a reasonable game, but lost. Only to find myself playing Chuck. I had an advantage this time, as Chuck had already been drinking for some time, so I was able to beat him. Then Luke played me, as I noticed a few more spectators drift over to watch.
Luke was good. But I had one or two tricks up my sleeve, or rather, my tee shirt.
I took my jacket off and bent over carefully lining up each shot. I noticed Luke’s eyes drifted to my breasts, so when he was playing, I always stood just in his line of sight. I was thus able to beat him by outrageous gamesmanship.
A few more girls seemed to be in evidence, and there was music on by a dance area. The guys took it in turns and I danced with them all. I carefully watched my alcohol intake, as I was acutely aware that they were trying to get me drunk. I managed to lose a few glasses of beer, so by the time Luke and three other guys escorted me back to the base, I was the most sober of the lot.
I gave each a friendly kiss on the cheek and went to my room. Tomorrow was my last day.
I decided against my run the next morning, but dressed in uniform as usual. I had breakfast in the officer’s mess and walked past the nav/comms wing on my way to my class. Approaching me were three sergeants, Luke, Chuck and Sam. I smiled.
They were half way up with the automatic salutes when they recognised me.
“Hi boys. Thanks for last night,” I said with a smile, as I returned their salutes. I kept walking, without turning round.
“Well, I’ll be damned!” said Sam, as Luke howled with laughter and slapped his friend on the back.
“You knew. You son of a bitch!”
I stopped and looked back. Luke was being chased down the road by the others.
I completed my course and put my gear back into my car. I drove to the US Air Force base at Dover in Delaware. I reported to the CO, and was then shown my quarters. I was taking up the post as Intelligence officer, with a special responsibility for coordinating with the other services and liaison with the contingency planning officer. After September 11, each base was in a high state of alert, and had an intelligence officer constantly assessing security systems and measures.
As it happened the Major in question was based here, in a different department, but I was due to start my new job after some leave. I had a date to watch a certain someone pass out of Sandhurst.
Before I flew out, I travelled, in uniform, to visit the Munroes. I pulled up outside their home, having rung the General to make sure that I was still welcome.
I walked up the path and rang the bell. I was a very different person to the student of a few weeks ago.
Stacey answered the door, saw the uniform, turned round and yelled, “DAD, it’s for you!”
“Hi Stacey,” I said, so she swung back and stared at me. She frowned, and then shook her head.
“Monique?” she asked, doubtfully.
I smiled, taking my Rayban sunglasses off.
“The very same, or rather the real me,” I said.
She stared at me, looking at my uniform, including my name badge. Lt.M.Bonnard.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“Can I come in? I may be able to explain.”
She stepped back and let me enter.
Marianne saw me, with a curious smile on her face. I knew that the General had told her.
“Hello Monique,” she said.
“Hi Marianne. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks dear. It’s nice to see you again.”
“It’s nice to be back.”
“Mom. What the hell is going on?” Stacey asked.
Marianne smiled, but left us alone.
“Monique?”
“Stacey, I’m Monique Bonnard. I’m an officer in the US Air Force and I work for Military Intelligence. I am genuinely half French, and I was employed by the powers that be to investigate a certain lecturer at the University who had suspected terrorist links. Our friendship was genuine, and an accident of circumstances. I now work for your father, and he ordered me to come clean to you. I value our friendship, as I did not want there to be secrets between us.”
“So you’re American all along?”
“Not really,” I said. “I was employed by the government because of my background; and that I was the only person who could identify the suspect.”
“I’m still confused. Just who are you?”
“My father was English, my mother was French. I got unwittingly involved in a case of terrorism and corruption in Europe. I found myself working with the company, and displayed an aptitude for the type of work. As a result of that, I was offered a further contract, so here I am. My real name would mean nothing to anyone, and as far as I am concerned Monique is my real name. Bonnard is my mother’s maiden name. My father was a wealthy speculator and Mr Fixit. I don’t use his name because of various dubious connections.”
“Is that your natural hair colour?”
I laughed, this was the Stacey I knew.
“Yes, it is.”
“It suits you, but the red was cool.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m not sure about the uniform, though.”
“That comes off.”
“Is Alex real, or is that another story?”
“Alex is very real.”
“I’d like to meet him.”
“I’d like you to as well.”
Suddenly, the barriers were down, and she hugged me.
“I missed you. I tried to find your address in France, but no records could be found.”
“I wonder why that was?” I said, and she giggled.
We went up to her room and caught up with our news. Brad had proposed to her, and she was still thinking about it. I thought she could do better, so I told her so.
She laughed and agreed, but didn’t know how to let him off without hurting his feelings.
A door slammed, so I guessed John had returned.
We went down stairs and John glanced at me, saw the uniform and then ignored me. But then he had another look. His jaw dropped and his frown was a joy to behold. Stacey got the giggles.
“Hello John. Remember me?” I asked, as Miss America.
“Monique?”
“Mais oui, comment ca va?”
His frown deepened. “Huh?”
“I’m a US Air Force officer, I was working undercover for the government on a top secret investigation, and my cover was as a foreign exchange student,” I explained.
“Do you work for my dad?”
“Sort of,” I said.
“Oh.”
The General chose that moment to break up the party, so he smiled at his son.
“Sorry John boy. But this girl works for me.”
“Aw, Dad.”
“This young man has had the hots for you ever since you stayed with us. I tried telling him you were already spoken for, and so he’s going to have to see it for himself.”
It was my turn to be confused.
“I’m sorry?”
“We’re going to England for a vacation. I just happen to have been invited to attend the Sovereign’s Parade at Sandhurst, you know - the Passing Out Parade, as a guest of honour, so I need a staff officer to come with me.”
I stared at him like the idiot now, and this caused the others to have a laugh at my expense.
“Monique, we’re going to England, and you’re coming too, courtesy of the US Air Force.”
“But?”
“We’re flying out a week before the event, as I understand you may wish to attend the Commissioning Ball, so will need to buy a new gown, as you only own a meagre fifty already. We have been given the use of a house in Surrey, which is the property of the US Government, and you will please stay with us, so you can act as a guide for Stacey and John as they look round your home town.”
I smiled.
“Home town?” asked John.
“London,” I said. “Thank you General. I would be honoured to be your staff officer.”
“You got your sexy uniform, girl,” he said with a twinkle.
“Yes sir, thank you sir,” I said, and saluted him.
Chapter 24
The US Air Force Boeing 747-400 landed at RAF Mildenhall. The passengers offloaded onto British soil, but still within US Air Force controlled property. The Customs and Immigration controls were a mere formality, but I was back in England. This time on a US Passport, dressed as an officer in the US Air Force. It was a nice change to be somewhere other than Heathrow.
The General had arranged a house to be made available for his family and staff officer. The house was in Woking in Surrey and was owned by the US Government, but managed by the US Embassy in London. I had not told Alex about my current status, as I planned to surprise him.
Howard had quite a number of meetings to attend, so I earned my pay. He needed a driver and so, for the first time, legally at any rate, I drove the Jaguar with US Military diplomatic plates wherever he wanted to go. I sat either next to him or behind him at all meetings, and at one, where the French were being asked to assist in the current Iraq situation, I was able to translate as we went, even though his French was quite good, he was not able to follow some of the rapid speech.
I had a dress uniform complete with lanyards and other trappings that made me very smart. Howard was quite funny, as he told me that I was able to distract the other members of meetings, by just being there.
In the week before the parade, there was a conference for senior NATO intelligence officers at the Camberley Staff College, within the campus of Sandhurst Royal Military Academy. I found myself, in uniform, in close proximity to where Alex was, and kept an eagle eye out for him.
I called Eileen Drummond and found out that they were all coming to the parade. They had even managed to take the girls out of school for a few days. They were staying at a nearby hotel, so on the General’s insistence, I invited them for dinner on the evening before the parade. I said that I was over with my boss, who wanted to meet them, which they accepted. The Commissioning Ball was held on the evening after the Sovereign’s Parade, and Alex had invited me to that. Eileen was really sweet, as Alex had wanted his whole family to go to the ball, while his mother had suggested that it was far more appropriate that just his fiancée should attend.
I still hadn’t told him about my new job. But as I was following the General up the steps at the Old College, Sandhurst, three officer cadets were coming down and threw up very snappy salutes. The one in the middle was Alex.
As Howard took the salute, I was simply walking slightly behind him as he was in mid conversation with an RAF Air Commodore. Alex stared at me and almost fell over. I showed no reaction, but simply walked on as if I did not recognise him. I glanced back, to see that he was still staring after me, with his two colleagues calling for him to catch up.
I followed the General into the conference room and sat beside him. This particular session was on communications systems, and the importance of protecting the intelligence gatherers from outside hackers. The IT revolution was giving the powers that be enormous concerns, as money and goods could be electronically dispatched with no controls or government knowledge. Weapons and explosives were available and, for a price, could be bought and shipped anywhere in the world.
Having just completed a course on this subject, I had been brought along to give the General technical advice as the discussions progressed. My mobile phone started to vibrate silently, so I smiled, knowing who was trying to call me. It buzzed and buzzed, but eventually stopped. There was a break in proceedings for a few moments, so I rang Alex back.
“Hi Alex, it’s me.”
“Monique. Where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to ring you.”
“I know, but I was unable to take the call. What’s the problem?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in Washington, why?”
“The weirdest thing has just happened. I have just seen your twin. I passed a US General, and he had a female staff officer, a Lieutenant I think, who looked so like you, I thought it was you for a moment.”
“Did you ask her for a date?”
“Come on. She didn’t even look at me, and that was the strangest thing. If it had been you, you would have at least smiled at me.”
“Oh yeah, I’m really going to be in England dressed as an Air Force Officer.”
“I wouldn’t put anything past you,” he said, and I could tell he still wasn’t convinced. The General waved, we were going back in.
“Hey, I have to go, I have to go and catch my plane, so I’ll see you at the Ball.”
“I miss you so much. What are you wearing?”
“Right now, or at the ball?”
“Either.”
“I have a long white dress, and I wanted to wear your tartan sash. Look, I really have to go. I love you.”
“I love you too. Ring me when you land.”
We rang off and I sat down at the General’s right hand, once more.
The conference finished at six pm. We were to be entertained in the Officers’ Mess, but I was a little early. Howard was having a private drink with the Commandant, so I was left to my own devices. I felt rather out of place, but there was nothing new there. I found the Mess, so had a look round, and noticed that I was one of a few women, the few others were all British army officers in any case. I looked very different in the air force blue. A rather lugubrious Coldstream Guards Captain came over to me and introduced himself.
“Hello, you must be the American General’s Staff Officer. I am Archie Baker-Miller.”
“Monique Bonnard, Lieutenant,” I said.
He shook my hand and pointed to my medals.
“They look very pretty, what were they for?” he asked.
“This one was for a counter terrorist operation I undertook in Europe, and the other one was for being wounded in the line of duty,” I said, putting on a slight New England accent. I smiled, if this job failed, I could always get a job as an actress.
“Really, how jolly interesting. Was that an active service operation or covert?”
“Very covert. I can’t talk about it, I’m afraid,” I said.
“Gosh, I take it you are in intelligence, along with your boss?”
“That’s right.”
“What part of the States are you from?”
“Recently, Maryland,” I said.
“How do you like England?”
“I love it, but then I have spent some time here over the years.”
“Really? What part?”
“London, mainly, but a few other places, Gloucester, Norfolk, Dorset, and some time in Scotland.”
“Have you been to Sandhurst before?”
“No, this is a first.”
“Ah, I shall have to show you round. There’s plenty of time before dinner. If you would like to, of course?”
“Sure, that would be swell, thanks,” I got a real kick out of being Miss America.
He took me out into the early evening sun and showed me Old College and then over to the New College. We went through the Officer Cadets’ area, while Archie explained all about the training programme.
“There is a Passing-out parade every now and again, called the Sovereign’s parade, and we have one next week. I understand that your General is a guest of honour for the parade?”
“That is correct. So I guess I’ll have a ringside seat.”
“Certainly, you’ll be next to the General, as his Staff Officer. I had to supervise the seating plans. I’ve been on the training staff for this lot, so you will be seeing the best of the best passing out,” he said, with a smile.
“I am sure looking forward to it,” I said.
“How long have you been in the service?”
“It’s a little tricky to calculate, as an Air Force Officer I have been seconded to other agencies, so a couple of years.”
“Gosh, it all sounds very interesting. What do you mean by, other agencies?”
“Intelligence agencies.”
“You mean the CIA?”
“Something like that.”
He led me round the campus and showed me all kinds of interesting things, but my favourite was Edward Bear, a fourteen-inch high, brown teddy bear who has served for almost the entire life of the present Academy. I was told he was enlisted as the mascot of the RMAS Parachuting Club in 1950 and proved instantly popular. The club was renamed the Edward Bear Club and it adopted an emblem of a teddy bear suspended from a parachute. Membership of the club was confined to Officer Cadets who completed the course that qualified them as army parachutists, so in order to qualify for membership, Edward Bear was given the honorary title of Officer Cadet (later raised to that of Senior Under Officer) and took part in all courses and airborne exercises in which club members took part.
Archie explained that the bear made his 400th parachute descent on 28th May 1971 using his own small silk parachute supplied by the RAF in 1961. The Camberley branch of Messrs Moss Bros. supplied him with a specially made camouflage pattern smock. Attached to this are the badges of various UK and allied Special Forces with whom he has jumped over the years, including, I noticed, the Americans.
We were standing at the top of the steps that the adjutant would ride up at the end of the parade. We looked across the parade square. Archie had to check on something, so I said I was happy to wait. It was a tranquil setting, so I was enjoying doing nothing for a while. I noticed a group of cadet making their way across the other side of the square, and one was Alex.
I rang his mobile number.
He answered.
“Hi.”
“Monique?”
“Yeah.”
“You haven’t landed already?”
“No. I’ve a confession to make.”
“What?”
“I can see you.”
“What?”
“I can see you,” I repeated.
He stopped dead, while his colleagues walked on. They then realised he was no longer with them, so they stopped and looked back at him. He was about eighty yards away, with his back to me.
One of his friends asked him what the matter was.
“Where the hell are you?” he asked.
“Well, if you turn round, you’ll see that incredibly attractive US Air Force Lieutenant. Well, she has the hots for you.”
He turned very slowly and saw me. I waved.
“Surprise!” I said.
I watched as his hand holding the phone fell away from his ear, his mouth opened and he just stared at me. I switched off my phone, as at that moment, Archie returned.
“Right, sorry to keep you,” he said, and we went down the steps together, towards the incredulous Alex and his friends.
We walked straight past the four immobile cadets, with Alex still holding the dead phone in his hand. They remembered to salute and, being the senior officer, Archie returned it.
“Evening chaps. What are you hanging about here for?” he said to them.
“On our way back for supper, sir,” said one.
Alex was gaping at me, so I blew him a kiss.
“Well, get on with you. Drummond, have you never seen an American officer before?”
“Not one quite like this, sir,” he managed to say.
“I am sorry Lieutenant, these chaps are suppose to be the leaders of tomorrow’s army. Looking at them, you’d hardly think they could lead themselves out of a paper bag.”
“It’s is quite all right, they look fine to me,” I said, accentuating the drawl somewhat.
“Right. Carry on, you chaps. We have to get back for dinner,” Archie said, and led me back to the Mess. It was a pleasant evening, and I found the British officers wonderful hosts, if a little pompous. When the General and I finally left, there were about fifty text messages on my phone from a very confused and impatient Alex.
I called him from the car, when we were on our way to Woking.
“Hi Sweetie.”
“Monique. What the fuck is going on?” he said, and I grinned.
“It’s a long story, and I haven’t got time just now.”
“You drive me nuts. How the hell do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Manage to do the impossible. Last year, you were off to some job in America. Then you were a student. And now you are a US Air Force Officer. What are you really? Some shape changing alien?”
“Close. I went to the States to work for the Company, and this little job is just part of that.”
“So, you aren’t really an officer?”
“I am.”
“I’m confused.”
“Look, I have to go to another meeting tomorrow, and then I’ll be free at the weekend. Will you be able to meet me?”
“I doubt it, but I’ll try.”
“I still love you,” I said.
“I love you too, but why can’t you be like other girls?”
“Because I’m me. And you always said you loved me because I was different.”
“That’s true. But sometimes I wish you were a little more un-different.”
“Sorry lover, you got me, and you have to take every part of me, including the different bit.”
He laughed.
“Ring me tomorrow.” I said, and switched off the phone.
Chapter 25
The meeting on the next day was in London, at the Ministry of Defence. The security was tight, as the agenda related to anti-terrorism and the measures that we, the US and British, could take to prevent it. The British had been fighting Irish Terrorism for years, so they were very experienced at seeking the hidden army that lay lurking pretending to be ordinary people.
There was a presentation by a senior SAS officer, and then it was the turn of the Scotland Yard Anti-Terrorist Branch Commander to give some insight of the incredibly difficult task that the authorities now faced. The Americans had little experience but had plenty of ideas, so after lunch, a joint presentation by two intelligence specialists, one American and the other British, into how best to utilise IT solutions in the war against terrorism.
This was my field, so the General made it plain he wanted some intelligent questions and observations from me, to justify his belief that his department was a key player in this area.
Fortunately, the lecturers were not experts in IT, but working from a script which had been prepared for them. The man who prepared some of the technical material was seated at the back, so on my seventh technical question, he was brought forward to answer it.
I displayed a sound level of knowledge, and was able to impress the General that not only that I knew what I was talking about, but also that as his staff officer, his department was up with and, at times, ahead of the game.
Indeed, at the tea at the end of the day, the technical expert sought me out, and we had an in depth discussion on how best to utilise the Internet and various financial program systems to track down terrorist and criminal money transactions, and thereby tracking the terrorists.
I overheard one of the British Security men saying to my General, “Typical of you Americans, you bring along a blonde, who not only displays a greater knowledge than the specialists, but manages to look incredibly sexy while she does it.”
I grinned and drank my tea, feeling I had earned my place on the trip.
As I drove the Jaguar back to Woking, Howard sat up front with me.
“I was very proud of you today, you impressed a lot of important people,” he said.
“You wanted intelligent questions, I tried my best,” I replied.
“You did well. I had the head of the British Secret Service asking about you. I didn’t tell him you should really be working for him,” he said, and chuckled.
“I still feel a fraud. I’m wearing a uniform I don’t feel entitled to, I have a name I wasn’t born with, and my whole life is based on a whim. It’s as if I’m playing a role, which has turned into reality, but I don’t know how to stop,” I said.
Howard looked at me. Before the trip, I had told him everything, so he had signed out the Zurich file to see for himself. He told me never to tell anyone about my past and together we built a new past for me, including family snaps and school reports, with photographs.
“Do you want it to stop?”
I shook my head.
“Not really, but I keep thinking a grown-up will come in and catch me red-handed.”
He laughed.
“No, you’re now one of the grown-ups, and you play the game as well as, if not better than the rest. Monique, you’re a natural. You can take a role and expand it to such a level of reality, that it becomes infinitely believable. I have one reservation.”
“Oh?”
“Your young man. Alex.”
“What about him?”
“Is it wise?”
“Probably not. But then I reserve the right to be an idiot at least once in my life.”
He smiled. “I don’t want to see either of you hurt.”
“That’s good, because neither do I.”
“Can I ask you one favour?”
“Of course.”
“I know you love him, and you plan on getting married. But can you both wait a few years.”
“Why?”
“You’re both so young, and if he’s going off to be a soldier, I’d hate for you to become a widow.”
“So would I. But believe it or not I want him and want to be with him.”
“I don’t argue with that, but in reality, you’ll both be apart for the next few years. So, set a date in, say, three years. You’ll both be very young still, and maybe, all being well, your feelings for each other will be even stronger because of the delay.”
I drove in silence for a moment.
“If he agrees, I don’t have a problem with that. I do accept that our different careers will keep us apart,” I said.
“Good girl. I wish all young people would be as sensible as you.”
He changed the subject, and we chatted about a variety of subjects until we arrived at our temporary home.
The next day was Saturday and Stacey had persuaded me to show her London. Of course John had to come too, so we set off at ten o’clock in the morning, after I had had my run.
We took the train up into town, and we had just arrived at Oxford Circus when my mobile rang.
It was Alex.
“Hi.”
“Monique. Where are you?”
“Oxford Circus. Where are you?”
“I’m just leaving Sandhurst. Can I meet you for lunch somewhere?”
“Sure, why don’t we meet at Hamley’s Toy store in about an hour, and find somewhere to eat after that.”
“I’ll see you there. Why the toy store?”
“Because I have yet to grow up and I love the place,” I said. He laughed and hung up on me.
It was a great day. For a start, the sun was out and it didn’t rain, always a bonus in the UK. Stacey was dying to meet Alex, so when we all met up, she whispered to me, “I can see why you kept faithful, he’s gorgeous.”
I bought some more clothes and so did Stacey, much to John’s disgust.
“Why you need any more clothes, it beats me,” said my beloved. “This girl has more clothes than anyone I know.”
“Stacey has more than me,” I said, and she grinned.
John found some computer games he was after, but thought they were really expensive compared to the States.
“Welcome to Britain, where the government taxes the hell out of everything,” I said.
In the afternoon, I took them to the Tower of London, where they saw the Tower Bridge open for a Russian tall ship as it sailed up the Thames.
Alex was pleasantly surprised to see me in jeans and a tee shirt. I appeared the ordinary girl next-door and clung to him every moment I could. We went to the Dickens Pub on the dockside near the Tower Bridge. It was a really old pub that sold real ale, and even had sawdust on the floor.
I bought John his first pint of real ale, and he actually liked it. I didn’t, but didn’t say so, but he had not really become addicted to Budweiser, fortunately.
We took in a show and rolled in to Woking station at about eleven thirty. I then realised we still had Alex in tow.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m staying with you,” he said.
“Who says?” I asked, aware that as a guest in the Munroe’s home, this was not on.
“I says,” said Stacey.
“Huh?”
“Don’t sound a dumb American Blonde. I told Daddy that Alex was here, so he told me to ask him to stay.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“Oh come on. Monique, you’ve been pining for him for weeks. I did you a favour, after all you are engaged, aren’t you?”
I smiled.
“I guess.” I said.
“Jeez girl, you are so slow,” she said, and giggled.
We trooped back to the house, where Howard greeted Alex as soon as he walked in the door.
“Ah, you must be Alex. I’m Stacey’s Dad.”
“How do you do, sir,” said Alex, a true product of the British Public School system.
“Glad that you could make it. My staff officer has been virtually useless as her fiancé has been otherwise engaged up until now. See you sort her out, there’s a good chap. Well, I shall bid you all a good night,” Howard went off to bed, so Stacey grinned at us.
Sufficient to say, Alex and I slipped off to bed very soon afterwards, but very little sleeping was done that night.
Stacey woke us at noon, so we appeared at half past, rather sheepish, but very content.
The weekend passed too quickly, as Alex was back for his final week. Actually, he had another six months as a commissioned officer before joining his regiment. But, this was his last week as an officer cadet.
There were two official meetings for the General, so I drove Howard to both. They were concerned with security and intelligence handling. There were so many agencies dealing with both fields, in that there was a fear that central coordination and control would be poor, and that vital mistakes would be the consequence, with important intelligence lost forever.
The desire was to attempt some form of unification and pooling of resources, so that all the NATO and other Western allies were all in tune. But, as ever, no one was willing to hand over control of national intelligence or security to anyone else, least of all the Americans. So, these meetings were to attempt to build an international coordination group, that would act as a clearing house for policy and intelligence that was deemed appropriate for circulation to all members of the group.
I sat at the back and smiled.
These men waffled, using all kinds of pompous words, yet all were unable to give an inch, their respective governments wanted to keep national interests under their own control, and no one wanted the Americans getting a look-in.
Howard, one of the few non-political appointees to the meeting, was getting more and more irate. I drew him a little cartoon, with all the world leaders at the time of the Second World War, all saying the same things, with the caption…. “They call it progress. What happens when politicians try to do anything important.”
I passed him the piece of paper, just as he was about to lose his temper.
He opened it, looked at it and smiled. He carefully folded it up and put it in his pocket. He relaxed and looked back at me, nodding.
When he spoke, he was calm, and very serious.
“Gentlemen. We can sit here and talk ourselves into the ground. The reality is simple, whilst we are nationalistically selfish, the terrorist will win. He knows no boundaries, he knows no barriers, as he recognises no authority. Our little differences are his strongest weapon against us, and until we learn to be like him, we will lose.
“So, I’m leaving. You represent your respective governments and each has your own agenda. A very wise colleague of mind reminds me that the major nations of this world formed the Treaty of Versailles, which failed to protect the world against Hitler. The same nations formed the UN, and still we fail. The day of the politician is near the end.
“My agenda is to fight and beat the terrorist, and if I can’t do it with your help, then I must do it alone. Good day.”
With that I stood and held his hat and brief case. He turned, took his hat, and I followed him out of the meeting. There were many stunned expressions looking after us.
He was silent as he walked very quickly out of the building, so I struggled to keep up. I unlocked the car and he sat in the front passenger seat.
“Thank you, my dear. I almost lost my temper back there. You’re a very fine artist, if I may say so.”
“Thank you sir,” I said.
“Why, oh why are we so short sighted and petty minded?”
“That’s men for you,” I said, and he chuckled.
“You’re probably right. Give power over to women and they’d sort them all out.”
“Not necessarily, sir, but at least the curtains would match the carpets,” I said, and he burst out laughing.
Extra - Chapter 26
The Passing-out parade and Commissioning Ball were two of the most enjoyable events of my life.
The Drummonds and the Munroes got together as planned, and hit it off brilliantly. I felt really weird, as it was almost as if the Drummonds were my parents, for they treated me like a daughter in any case. What was even weirder was that Alex wasn’t able to be there, so I was the only common denominator.
However, initially I had some explaining to do, as the last they heard I was a student. Alex had tried to be as vague as he could, but unfortunately was not sure how much to tell them. Our plan was to take them out to a restaurant, but the General and I were delayed at a meeting, and so the plan changed to meeting for a drink at the Woking address, and then move on to the restaurant.
They had already arrived when we arrived, so I was driving the general and I was still in uniform.
We walked into the house to find Marianne and Stacey entertaining the Drummonds in the drawing room. All I had said was that my boss had been invited to the passing out parade, but I had not thought to mention he was an American Air Force General.
Marianne and Stacey, knowing how terrible I was at telling anyone about what I did had said nothing, except that I worked for Howard, and that we were over for various meetings in relation to defence and security matters.
I had forgotten all about the dinner arrangements, and Howard was still smarting over the stupidity of politicians. We walked in, still in mid discussion, so I was suddenly faced with Andrew and Eileen Drummond looking aghast at me in my uniform.
“Monique?” said Eileen, very surprised.
“Hi, Eileen. Oh shit. I never told you did I?” I said, as it dawned on me by seeing their expressions
“No. You didn’t,” said a smiling Andy. “But then you have this remarkable gift of surprising me every time we meet. Just who are you Monique?”
I introduced him the Howard, and then I tried to explain.
“I suppose I ought to tell you the truth. Or some of it at least,” I said, glancing at Howard.
“I was recruited by an American Intelligence agency whilst involved in a complicated affair in Switzerland. It was there that Alex and I met, where actually, Alex was a great help and does know the truth.
“I came back to the UK, but then was offered a permanent position with the U.S. Government. I really am a Lieutenant and am an Intelligence Officer in the U.S. Air Force. My brief time at University was actually partly work and partly genuine. As it happens I did get my diploma, while at the same time was operating in the field gathering intelligence to combat a potential terrorist threat.
“More than that I can’t really talk about, so you see why I was restricted over what I could tell you,” I said, feeling really bad.
“You look jolly smart. Will you be wearing that to the parade?” asked Eileen.
“Yes, I’m the General’s Staff officer, so I have to be in uniform.”
Andy was grinning, so he walked over and gave me a big kiss.
“You look fabulous. I’m very envious of my son. What are the medals for?” he asked.
I looked at Howard.
“She was shot by a terrorist in Switzerland. She also managed to thwart a terrorist plot to launch a major offensive against our financial institutions. She is a very courageous and bright girl, and unfortunately, she knows it,” said my boss, the bastard.
“Oh my God. You were shot? Was Alex there?” Eileen asked.
“No. He was looking after my colleague who had been blown up by a bomb. He was really brilliant, and I would never have put him in danger,” I said.
“What is said here must never go outside these walls,” said Howard. There followed a general chat, and things became less tense.
I excused myself and went and dressed like a normal human. I had bought a really pretty maroon dress, so it was nice to get out of uniform. I liked the uniform, but I also liked wearing really pretty clothes. When I came down again, Andy and Howard were deep in conversation as were Marianne and Eileen. Stacey came over and sat beside me.
“It’s okay, Mom has been telling her how wonderful you are, and Eileen told Mom how wonderful you are. It’s like the Monique Bonnard appreciation society,” she said with a chuckle.
“I completely forgot I’d not told them what I was doing. It’s so embarrassing,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it. Mind you, if Alex ever dumps you, I reckon his dad fancies you.”
“Stacey! That’s an awful thing to say.”
“Maybe, but true. I think my Dad has the hots for you as well.”
“Stacey!”
She dissolved into giggles, so Howard looked at us.
“Ah, you look stunning as always, Monique. I suppose I should go and change too.”
“Told you,” said Stacey, and was off again.
We eventually went out and had a super meal. I sat between Andy and Howard, and they both flirted with me outrageously. Their wives were watching and kept shaking their heads and laughing at the pair of them. John was very quiet, but Eileen managed to get him to talk about all kinds of things by the end of the evening.
We said goodbyes and Howard remarked that it was always good to meet decent folk.
I was just disappointed that Alex had not been able to be there.
There was a reception for the guests of honour prior to the Sovereign’s Parade. As Staff officer to the General, I was invited, as was Marianne, Stacey, and John, as his family.
I was in my smartest uniform, with included silver cord aiguillettes. I wore medals as opposed to medal ribbons, so was very conscious of wearing the wrong coloured uniform. Everyone else was in army green, or black, red or camouflage. There were hats and tartans, and all sorts of variations, but U.S. Air Force blue was not so common.
However, it did not seem to bother the British officers, who managed to annex me from my General, and attempted to ply me with so many drinks as to render me legless had I not been on the ball.
I was introduced to the Commandant, a Brigadier who had so many medals I lost count. He monopolised me for quite a substantial time, but I could tell by the grins of the other officers that he was not adverse to a pretty face.
We had good seats for the parade and I waved at the Drummonds in the distance. Alex looked very smart and I was very proud of him, as he managed to work for his commission, whereas I just got some help. As they marched past for the final salute he was staring directly at me, so I blew him a kiss.
We met up afterwards, and he was very pleased that it was all over. I had to face the reality that he was about to start another six months course before he joined his regiment. Also, I was about to go and take up my post in trying to isolate and expose a traitor.
I returned and got ready for the evening ball, and opened a box which Andy Drummond had left for me. It was a sash in Alex’s tartan, and Marianne helped to attach it to my dress. Stacey was really jealous but knew her time would come.
Howard saw me when I came down.
“Lieutenant, now I know why you’re working for me,” he said, with a grin, “You look wonderful. He’s a very lucky guy.”
“He sure is,” said Marianne.
My taxi arrived, and I felt like Cinderella going off to the ball.
We met as arranged and he looked very smart in his kilt. He was now a Second Lieutenant in the Black Watch, so my sash was in the same tartan. As we entered the huge ballroom, I was amazed at the riot of colour in the clothing. And, for a change, it was mostly the males. The women’s dresses were very elegant and wonderful, but it was the variance of formal mess dress-uniforms the officers wore that stood out most.
I was introduced to most of his colleagues, and a few recognised me as the General’s staff officer. I just adored the Scottish dances and felt as if I had gone back in a time warp. I felt wonderful. The young male officers flirted dreadfully, even though they all had partners, but I just adored it.
I was standing watching a dance, waiting for Alex who had gone to the loo, when the Commandant approached me.
“Good gracious, I almost didn’t recognise you, my dear. May I say you look lovely in uniform, but you look absolutely stunning like this?” he said.
“Why, thank you sir, you are too kind,” I said, laying on the American accent rather thickly.
“I saw you dancing with young Drummond, is he your escort this evening?”
“Yes, Brigadier. We’re engaged.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“Goodness, that was quick.”
I smiled.
“We met quite a long time ago, before he joined the army.”
“That’s a relief. Bit of good planning to get over here courtesy of Uncle Sam, what?”
I smiled again. “It sure was. That’s what comes of having a good boss.”
Alex returned and the Commandant shook his hand.
“Congratulations, my boy. Though I can see you two are going to have some difficulties getting time together.”
“That’s true sir, but I’ve found that Lieutenant Bonnard manages to surprise me with what she manages to achieve.”
“Quite so,” said the Commandant, and he gave me a kiss on the cheek.
“Well, I wish you both all the best. By God, you’ll need it,” he said, and wandered off.
The ball ended, as do all good things. Alex and I felt the anti-climax harder than many, I think, because it meant the end of what we had and the start of the unknown. Rightly and properly, Alex was spending his leave with his family in Scotland, while I had a few days left before heading west and to my assignment.
The cool night air chilled us slightly as we stood on the steps overlooking the now deserted parade-ground.
“So, what now?” he asked.
I shrugged, feeling rather small and vulnerable.
“Do you ever want to stop the world and get off?” he asked.
“Often,” I admitted.
“It’s silly, but now I’ve got the damn commission, I’m not sure I want it. I’d rather just follow you and be there for you when you come home in the evening.”
“No you don’t. That would be simply awful, never knowing whether I’m okay, or even if I’m coming home. You’d go spare.”
He chuckled. “Okay, maybe you’re right, but I feel if I let you go, I may never see you again.”
I shared that view, as there were so many different ways he could be killed.
“We could both of us run away and open a coffee shop somewhere. That would be fun,” I suggested.
“No, it wouldn’t,” he said with a smile. “We’d be crap at running a coffee shop. How about a pub?”
“No way, I’d end up slaving in the kitchen and you’d become an alcoholic landlord. Besides, that’s no life for the kids,” I said.
“What kids?”
“At least two. I was as good as an only child, for my sister was always away; so I never want to do that to a child of mine.”
“You’re not trying to tell me something, are you?”
“No, I’m not. Would you mind if I was?”
“No, not really. It’d fuck up our lives for a bit, but we’d manage.”
“Alex, if anything happens to me, will you make sure you find someone else?”
“Likewise, my love. You’re too lovely to go through life on your own.”
We simply hugged, neither wanting to talk much, each suffering the pain of our impending separation.
However, separate we did, promising to keep in touch as often as our respective lives permitted. I was exceptionally melancholy as I returned to the house in Woking in the early hours. The house was almost in complete darkness, so I crept through the hall, making for the stairs.
“Ah, how was it?” asked Howard, from his armchair in the sitting room. A single table lamp was on, and he had a file on his knee.
“Still up, sir?” I asked.
“I couldn’t sleep. I received some news that meant I’ve been in contact with our people back home. There have been some developments.”
“Oh?”
“Nothing you need know about at this hour. You go get some sleep, you’ll need it.”
He must have sensed something from my demeanour, for he rose from his chair and came over to me, resting a friendly hand on my shoulder.
“You see, being in love adds some dreadful complications,” he said.
“I know, but being alone is worse. I spend most of my formative years on my own, and I never want to be alone again. It’s enough knowing he’s there for me, even if I don’t know where there is.”
“Well, far be it for me to tell you how to live your life,” he said.
“I know, having a family must add to your pressures,” I said, making him laugh.
“Okay, point taken, Monique. But I wasn’t in this game when we got married, as I was just a regular Air Force officer to start with.”
“How did you get into this game?” I asked.
“Look, it’s late; don’t you think you should go to bed?”
“I’m still on a high, I won’t sleep for ages. Besides, I’m interested, but if you have to go to bed, I won’t bother you.”
He chuckled.
“I have another call due in a few minutes, so if you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Okay, I got into this game by accident, I guess, being at the right place at the right time. I was on the old 707 AWACs at the height of the cold war. With the advances in satellite intelligence, I found myself one of the few officers able to accurately read the maps and photographs. The intelligence we gained from over enemy territory was crucial for NATO deployments in Europe. It was a short step deeper into intelligence, and so I made a career decision.”
“So, not like James Bond, eh?” I said.
“Nothing so dramatic, I’ve never been a special operative, just one of the back-room boys.”
“Haven’t you ever wanted to be a field agent?”
“Not really, I suppose coming at it from the direction I did made it unrealistic to go into the field, whereas you started in the field, so to speak.”
“Do you miss flying?” I asked, as he had been a pilot at an earlier stage in his career.
“Sometimes, but it’s a young guy’s game.”
“Or a girl’s game,” I said.
“Sure, if they make the grade, why not?”
“What qualities do they look for when recruiting people for different jobs?” I asked.
“Like most occupations, we take qualified graduates or seasoned and experienced service personnel but it depends on the type of job you’re recruiting for. Over the years, I’ve come to realise that it isn’t the degree, the gender, the colour of skin, the age or the strength that determines someone’s value, but their determination to succeed and their natural or trained skills and intelligence. Take you, for example. You were flung into a situation beyond your control and outside your experience. With all the odds against you, you not only managed to evade the bad guys, but you also saw the job through to a satisfactory end, while battling personal problems that would have made any lesser person to give up without a fight. You persuaded those whose job it is to identify and recruit effective personnel that you’ve qualities that we can use.
“The intelligence business got a bad name after Vietnam, and the CIA in particular is often seen as dubious at best and downright corrupt at worst. A few corrupt or overzealous individuals have made it difficult for the rest of us. Likewise, bad political decisions and foolhardy ventures have brought in a series of measures and countermeasures designed to ensure that these mistakes will be less likely in future. The military didn’t escape the bad name, but with the Soviets and Chinese breathing heavy, the importance of obtaining good, accurate and relevant intelligence seemed to rise above the political objections.”
“Can I ask you a more personal question?” I asked.
“Sure.”
“I’ve been wondering about some stuff,” I said, trying to find the words.
“Stuff?”
“Yup, you see, I don’t really fit any of the usual categories, like a graduate or an ex-marine. I’m not even American, so I’ve been wondering, why me?”
“Why you, what?”
“I’m far younger than anyone else I’ve met in the same line of work, so far. Just why was I given a job? I mean, with all the baggage I’ve brought with me, what’s my special thing?”
Howard was sitting on the arm of the sofa while I stood nearby. He nodded towards the chair next to me.
“Sit down, Monique, I was wondering when you’d start asking this type of question.”
I sat; aware I was still wearing my ball gown. I fleetingly thought of Alex, so I experienced some conflicting emotions.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Fine, I suppose it’s better when I don’t think about stuff too deeply.”
He chuckled.
“Okay, jokes aside, you’ve brought up the subject, so it’s only right I give you why I believe you were taken on. Firstly, you’re absolutely right, as you certainly don’t fit the usual criteria for an agency recruit. But then, you have to look at things from a different perspective. When we recruit graduates or service personnel, we are seeking specialists to undertake specific tasks. Some are analysts, some programmers, some are investigators, others have special interrogating and interviewing skills, or specialist in weapons and tactics. There are a myriad of skills, and many academic and specialist courses in colleges and military training units that prepare people to fit in the holes we need.
“The skills we can’t get from any college, university or even from military theorists are many of those skills you displayed for real in Switzerland. Whilst under severe pressure, you showed us the ability to think rationally and intuitively, and then to act rapidly and decisively. You used lethal force seemingly without hesitation, and certainly without dwelling on the potential emotional aspect of taking a life,” he said.
“I didn’t have much choice,” I said, rather defensively.
“Granted, but think about it for a moment. You witnessed your father murdered by a corrupt senior policeman. You were framed for that murder and still managed to thwart the conspirators who had not insignificant experience in criminal or even terrorist activity. You’ve put up with severe personal issues, and yet never lost sight of your objectives. Now, those qualities are priceless in our business, so Chris was perfectly right to consider you. When you first intimated that you might be willing to work for Uncle Sam, even though it was in partial jest, you were looked at very closely, so when you stated you would be interested, a full background check was undertaken. As I understand it, you were cleared and then the offer was made.
“Believe it or not, you’re a very special girl,” he said.
“I still feel a fraud,” I admitted.
He smiled. “Hell, girl, I wear three stars on each shoulder and I feel a fraud every day. But I accept my responsibility and just get on with what I know I can do. So, I suggest you don’t think too deeply about why you were hired and concentrate on the job in hand.”
He’d given me something to think about, so I smiled and stood up.
“Thanks for that. I think I’ll go to bed now,” I said, kissed his cheek and went up to my room. I was slightly melancholy as I took off my ball gown, because I didn’t know when I’d see Alex again. As I wiped off my make up, staring at my face devoid of camouflage, I tried to see who I really was.
I was a little confused, because the me inside wasn’t the same as the person that Howard described. Did I really want this kind of life?
What alternatives were there?
I’d sort of made my bed, now I had to lie in it. No one knew the future, but in a funny sort of way, I liked that. I also felt a tremor of excitement as I tried to imagine the sort of things I’d be doing.
I’d answered my own question.
I did want this life. I slipped beneath the covers and lay back, smiling at what I’d become. I slept like a log.
Comments
To be continued???
To be continued!!! Please...
- Moni
I second that motion!
Yes, this story should definitely be continued! For one thing, you have left several loose ends which have not been resolved. For one thing, Aziz is still on the loose and needs to be dealt with. For another, there is that Air Force intelligence officer who is a double agent in Monique's section still running around loose; and you did say that her next assignment was to somehow deal with him. And there are so many other adventures that could be open for Monique as well, based upon both her Air Force commission and her position within the Company. Tom Clancy took one supporting character in his first novel, "Hunt For Red October" (Jack Ryan) and built an extended series of novels around that character. There is no reason why you cannot do the same with Monique (although, since she is not a native-born American, you cannot have her becoming President of the United States). Please, DO give us more of Monique! The new chapter 26 did bring partial closure to the story; but there is still so much more available to give us!
Jenny
Jenny
Nice
Wow this is a nice and neat surprise I understand that it's already been written and that makes things easier but it is still so nice to see such a good story coming in so fast. Many of the other stories that I really like seem to take forever and are easily almost forgotten about. Please keep up the good work even if you are just resending it to a different site. Also I would buy the book myself but don't like to deal with buying it online if only it was in bookstore available at bookstores it would make things easier for me.
You can always send the author a donation then...
BigCloset TopShelf
Monique
davey
To be continued??? I do hope so. Excellent story!
davey
Great Story Update
I read the prior version posted else where and that ending seemed to dribble. I like what you've done about Sandhurst and Alex and Monique. Looking forward to the rest of the story... Please Continue!
Hugs,
Trish-Ann
Hugs,
Trish Ann
~There is no reality, only perception~
Waaant...mooore...
Pwease continue? Pweeeeease?
~ Compulsive online gamer, supernerd, and geek at your service ~
Is that all there is?
Unlike a lot of your stories I have not previously read this one. It is another fine example of your writing skills. Being your first story I am sure that you wanted it to be better than it was. When I draw a picture I always see the flaws and rarely believe that anyone finds it any better than mediocre. Other than the few military jargon mistakes{only a service brat would know that an AP[air police] salutes you as you enter an Air Force base not a SP[shore patrol] or that while on TDY[temporary duty] an officer stays at the Visiting Officers Quarters[VOQ]} These are minor flaws that do not distract from otherwise is a well told tale. Ever since James Bond came along there has always been a market for good spy stories and that do not have to be technically accurate if the story is well told. Should you write more about Monique? Only if you feel the need to write more in this genre. Should you write more? You are an excellent story teller and I find your stories riveting and memorabale. I shall be eagerly awaiting your next story, be it Monique or another exciting well written tale.
A very sincere fan,
'Sika
p.s. I greatly admire your writing skills and wish that I could half as good.
I looked that up SP vs. AP,
Once upon a time when I was in Civil Air Patrol and later, the US navy, all I heard and saw was AP, but when I looked it up now, it appears the official title is Air Force Security Police.
http://www.airforcesecuritypolice.com/ ( All I got was that and similar sites when googling for Air Force Police ).
It does appear that they may still be called APs, and may wear AP arm bands or brassards.
But true, the one night I wore an SP band, my last night in the Navy, it was a NAVY SP arm band.
It’s not given to anyone to have no regrets; only to decide, through the choices we make, which regrets we’ll have,
David Weber – In Fury Born
Holly
It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.
Holly
One more vote...
... for the story to continue! Their lovestory is just getting started and it would be fun to find out whether Monique becomes the director of CIA or a general!
Hugs,
Sissy Baby Paula and Snowball (my toy puppy)
More Please :)
This is a wonderful story, one of my favorites as well. I would love to see more,thank you for another wonderful tale.
Hamley's Toy Store
Now that takes me back. I think they got the lion's share of my weekly pocket money. How many floors of toys is it? It has been 30 something years since I last went there yet every few years I have a dream that includes wandering around Hamleys. It was better than going to an amusment park.
Thanks for stirring the memories.
Hamley's
We walked past it 34 years ago and never went in, as we were traveling back home to California from Malaysia.
We were given a piece of wood of the cottage in Leiston my mum was born in. Also from above the hills east of Loch Ness we picked heather. We made some rubbings in Straford-upon-Avon. And flowers from everywhere were pressed into a book. Thats about the only material knick-knacks we brought back from England. All the rest were the pictures we snapped.
*HUGS*
Robi
*HUGS*
Robi
please do continue it, I
please do continue it, I loved this the first time I read it.
and loved it as much or more this time..
Thank you Tanya, this great story
Thank you for putting a proper ending to this story, I had read and reread it frustration over the last few years just hoping that their would be more. I enjoy your stories and if their is a continuation than I indeed look to read and enjoy those also. Now if we could just get some other authors to finish their stories, dreammaker for example...
Up to You...
..whether you find more for Monique to do or concentrate on other heroines. I'm just glad to see this second plotline finished. (Or third, I guess, depending on how you look at it.) I don't think anything here can match the first fifteen chapters, though IMO this does come closer to doing so than the previous version did. But after the life-and-death struggles of the first story, Monique's year in America seems like light refreshment. That said, it's fun and you do write it well, and I'm always glad when your characters let each other in on their secrets.
The more I think about it, the less I like the idea of your continuing here. Notwithstanding her youth and inexperience, I'm not sure that Monique has a whole lot more to learn about herself, and the other cast members here, Alex included, don't seem to have been depicted in a way or at a depth that could easily make them into important continuing characters. (OK, maybe Howard, after that last conversation.) Even complicating Monique's love life doesn't really seem that potentially rewarding; Alex is a nice guy, but if Monique decides she can do better than a remote relationship, it doesn't seem to me that it would upset many readers.
So it seems to me that a continuation would have to be heavily action-oriented with Monique's life potentially endangered, the solution would need to be tailored to someone with her unusual set of talents, and would probably have to stand almost entirely on its own. The alternative would be for Monique to discover and surmount some kind of weakness in her character that we really haven't discovered yet. Certainly possible -- I get the feeling that when it comes to stories like this there's very little that's beyond your reach -- but perhaps a situation with less potential than others you could write.
Eric
(Notes: in Chapter 21 you have Gary talking to Monique about "Aziz" rather than "Iqbal". If I'm reading this right, "Iqbal" would be Gary's instructor or teacher, not his tutor -- in the U.S. a tutor either teaches someone privately, often on a one-to-one basis, or offers supplemental instruction beyond what's provided by the school's primary instructors or lecturers. Lastly, I'm not sure I've ever heard an American use the term "I reckon" outside of period pieces and stories written by Brits.)
Monique - the sequel - yes please!
Excellent story and I really like the new ending. You certainly have my vote for a sequel.
Pleione
Knockd on me behind.
For some strange reason, I can hardly hold the tears off as I write this. Here this poor girl has been involved with some real plonkers and managed to triumph. Now she has someone who she is really attached to for the first time in a long time, and they are not really going to be together. It seems so unfair and I just want to wail at the injustice of it all; cry my eyes out! But it is the way real life is, isn't it?
No apologies for breaking my heart, as I no longer fear emotion; being as it is a true cathartic. Don't you dare stop here, please. I can see this going on for many episodes since she has more bastards to ease into the graves that lead to hell.
I am one of those people who just keep on ticking when things go south, but then after all need for worry is past, I generally manage to make a sopping mess of myself; crying piteously like a tiny child. And that is the one place that I feel that Monique's character fell slightly short. I don't know many people who have lived the brownies and not managed to express it later.
God, I am such a mess, and now I have to breathlessly go to work and pretend that everything is fine.
Many Blessings
Gwendolyn
Where Next?
I think now that she has resolved her mind; duty is where the action is. Back to Europe again but she will have to be careful this time as she has been seen near the terrorist's house and on the campus, bet your bottom dollar that she gets trapped somewhere?
Will she get the support she hasn't had before? or will she be the one rescuing the professionals?
Lets go Tanya make this a blockbuster.
I'm begging
Please Tanya, I'm on my hands and knees begging for a sequel to this fine story. I like others have fallen for our heroine. I have to say this is my favorite story that you have written. Thank you so much for your effort, Arecee
To Be Continued???
Tanya,
By all means, PLEASE continue this delightful tale. Monique is quite a WOMAN!
G/R
Monique
This is one of the best stories that I have read in a long while. I was in this business for a while and I can empathise with Monique.
I do not comment much but I had to log on and say "Good Job"!
Sniff ...
... sniff. Smell that? It smells like more chapters. :)
- vessica
Good Ending to a Great Story
I think the story is at a good stopping point, but you could always start a whole new story about Monique that continues on from some point in the future. I guess I'm of mixed feelings about whether you should continue the story. I love the character and would love to read more about her adventures, but there's also such a thing as too much of a good thing. I don't know if a second story is too much. That's up to you. Keep it fresh and add some new dimensions and you'd have me eating out of your hand, I'm sure. :)
So anyway, I loved the humor and the winding down of the story. I like the bittersweet aspects too. The writing is very good and the story flows well.
Thanks very much.
- Terry
Monique IS being Continued...
BigCloset TopShelf
Nope
That's a dead link these days, if it was continued I'd love to know where to find it. To my mind there is so much more to tell! And from my perspective in 2015 Tanya is one of the best in this area! I could see the "problems" the others mentioned, but to my eye Tanya has compressed the timeline a bit to keep the action flowing. Other writers may enjoy reading 10-12 pages of the protagonist buying clothes, and there are obviously people that enjoy reading same, but it just isn't TA's thing. She delivers a well-paced action story while producing an excellent character for us to root for. I've been reading a bunch of Tanya's stories in a row (Fortune's Soldier is a delight to read) and she has written lots of good stuff, and I devour anything with her name on it.
So, I hope she takes pity on us shleps and completes the open stories with her usual flare. Please?
I went outside once. The graphics weren' that great.
Good to See...
...someone else who doesn't reflexively look for a sequel every time a character reaches an endpoint, even when the author asks. (Can't remember offhand the title of the Mark Twain story that had Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn traveling in a balloon over the Midwest, or even whether I read all the way through it. Only scene I remember is Tom's assertion that they couldn't be crossing over state lines because the ground was all the same colors, unlike the maps he'd seen. It wasn't the worst thing he ever wrote -- that was his Sherlock Holmes story -- but it did demonstrate that even a great writer with great characters couldn't duplicate his success by keeping them going.)
Sorry to report that I haven't been reading your stories lately -- from the titles, they seem to center on breasts, a topic that makes me uncomfortable. But I continue to appreciate your story comments.
Best, Eric
Wonderful news that you are continuing Monique
Your stories, all of them, are such great reads that I keep reading them over and over. Monique was the first of your stories that I read a few years ago and this latest version is at least the fourth time I have read it. Which is probably why I noticed a couple of things I would probably have missed if I wasn't so familiar with the story and its characters. Eileen told Monique they were taking Alex's sisters out of school so they could come to the Passing Out Parade. But no mention of them was made during their visit to the Munroes for dinner and at the Parade. It might have been interesting to see John's interaction with the two sisters. Also, during the discussion Alex and Monique had about having children, Monique said she was an only child. What happened to her sister in Los Angeles who she promised to go visit after the baby was born? Now that you are going to continue the story it would be wonderful to read about her visiting her sister and her new neice/nephew. I am excitedly looking forward to the continuation of Monique and more great stories from you, especially the one Sephrena just told us about.
Hugs from one of your most avid fans,
Sarah Ann
Continue! Continue!
I first read this a few years back in Sapphire's Place. I've been waiting so long for the continuation. Please continue, Tanya. Please, please, please. With cherry on top and whipped cream on the sides.
I love all your stories (though there was one in Sapphire's Place that I haven't read, because it didn't seem like it would be finished), but Monique is my most favourite. Please continue.
I just started reading
I just started reading 'Monique' yesterday. Very Good! Thank You! I sincerely hope that you will continue this story line as well as all of your writing.
Brenda
Once again
we meet. Thanks for the last chapter. Leaving off with only the curtains and rugs was too much, at least now you have an ending point and have tied up some of the other points of the story. I am looking forward to your next story.
More please
I really liked your story and would be delighted to read more of Monique's adventures.
Thanks for sharing this with us
Friendship is like glass,
once broken it can be mented,
but there will always be a crack.
Further Adventures For Monique
I thoroughly enjoyed reading about Monique (Jane Bond). It would be quite interesting if her boyfriend got into MI5 and they worked on the same cases from different perspectives.
Monique has got to stop Aziz first.
I hope to read a second book about Monique. Terrific writing!
Ronnie
Oh Please, continue. There
Oh Please, continue. There is so much more in Monique's life to learn about as well as her "one true love" Alex. This is such a great story, it would be truly sad to see it end.
I can just visualize Monique and Alex being teamed up on some assignment somewhere and finally realizing they just need to be together as Wife and Husband.
Nothing to do with the story; just wanted to address the comments of "AP" vs "SP".
Air Police was the title from the early 1950's until May/June 1966 when the title became Security Police.
That lasted into the 1990's, when the title became "SF" (Security Forces) and as of this time, still is. However the badge worn still says Security Police on it. Moving away from the famous "White Hats", The career field now wears a Blue Beret with a "flash" on it that shows an Eagle pouncing.
The career field motto now is "Defensor Fortis" (Defenders of the Force).
In my era, (60-87) it was "Peacekeepers".
If any agency can, the Air Force is excellent in reinventing the wheel as often as possible.
J-Lynn (Retired "SP")
Please continue this story!
I've read this story several times (first time for this ending) and always felt that it needed to be continued. The new chapter is much better than the original ending.
That said, I must say that I've enjoyed reading your stories over the years, First at Maddie Bell's, Saphire's and now the Big Closet. Please keep writing so that fans like me can continue to enjoy your world.
If all the world is a stage, who is the audience?
Wristx
More! More! More!
This is a great story! I just finished the last chapters last night and need more! Please continue.
Vicky
I Have Just Finished Reading Monique
Thank you Tanya, You have posted a most wonderful story. As far as I can tell, you are second to none when it comes to penning a well crafted story. And I also want to thank Sephrena Lynn Miller for bringing you here, and Maddy Bell for giving you a section at her site. Did I miss anybody?
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Just a minor observation
Great story, Tanya. Just a small note here: The aiguillette our heroine wore would be silver. Gold is for military aides to the President and worn on the right side. It's worn on the left shoulder by military attachés, General Staff Corps officers, and aides to flag officers; the cord colors are gold for the Marine Corps & Army, gold and blue for the Navy, and silver for the Air Force.
Oh I do so hope you will
Oh I do so hope you will continue this. farr too many loose ends.
Monique
Tanya,
This is a very well written story which I have enjoyed very much.
There are, however, a few minor points:
French phrases such as "C'est la Vie" & "Au revoir" are commonly known among Americans & would not have to be translated.
English words or phrases such as "chat-up", "sorted out" or "whilst" would never be used by an American.
Yes! Please do bring this tale to a conclusion.
Thanks again.
Too many loose ends
Tanya, there are too many loose ends, the least of which is Aziz. He can't be left running around. Monique can have other assignments and episodes with Alex and there's a wedding for the future.
This really should be continued when your muses inspire you. Soon, I hope.
Much Love,
Valerie R
brilliant
but as usual where is the rest?
brilliant
but as usual where is the rest?
Monique
I cannot believe there as not been a sequel to this wonderful story
there is... or rather there will be...
.. 20K of this is complete, but the setting... the Middle East ..has changed since I started, so I am having to re-write and with the 32 other books on the go, it is low on the pile.
Sorry, but if anyone has an extra few hours a day to give me, and perhaps a couple more days each week...?
T
There's no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes!
Fourteen years later
Tanya, I don't know what your situation is now, but if it is possible please continue with Monique's story. I consider that she is one of greatest female characters in English literature on par with Elizabeth Bennett or Jane Eyre. Monique is definitely the sexiest. That illustration of her is simply perfect. Who won't want to look like her. Thanks for creating her and sharing her adventures with us.
Pippa NewHouse