Posted by Sonya on March 10, 2002 at 18:56:32:
I realize this story probably isn't polished enough to be posted, as I've only edited it three times and that means there are double adjectives and grammatical errors waiting to jump out. But, it's Sunday night and I just want to put it up somewhere and be done with it for now.
Hopefully some of you will enjoy it.
“Have a seat, Agent Ashcroft. I have read over your file. Overall your performance within this organization has been commendable. However you are well aware of that fact, and that is not the purpose of this meeting. As the new director of this division I want to know the agents on this team. I want a thorough understanding of what makes you tick, what motivates you, and from that I can assess whether you are being utilized to the fullest extent in the proper capacity.”
“Yes sir.”
“I have called you in here to get the other side of the story, to hear what never makes the report. I want you to give me a thorough account of the last three projects you have undertaken. I want you to tell me, without regard for propriety, what you experienced during the course of each assignment.”
“Yes sir.”
“I expect you to be completely honest and provide a detailed description of the events during and directly following each of the missions. Am I being clear?”
“Yes sir, I understand.” She wasn’t quite sure what he was driving at; yet she suspected he knew far more than she ever imagined.
“Start by telling me how you felt when you were first asked to participate in operation Untouchable.”
“Well, as you know from my file, I had never been involved in assignments of this nature before. However once I understood the threat this nation faced from the untouchables I realized the actions of this agency were not only justifiable, but quite necessary. The fact we had Saudi nationals feeding large sums of money directly into terrorist organizations, the fact that in some cases these men were actually participating behind the scenes in terrorist attacks, while living right here within our borders, well, this made me realize there was no other choice. The administration was afraid to touch them through legal channels, as the political fallout could sever the already tenuous U.S. Saudi relations, so a covert operation was the obvious alternative. When I came to an understanding of the situation, I realized that I had no qualms about participating whatsoever, in fact I embraced the opportunity to serve in this capacity.”
“Understood. Continue on to the first case under discussion, Mohammad Ada.”
“As stated in the report, sir, the target was engaged at strip club called The Cheetah. Initially I had to interview for a job with the club, and was summarily hired a week later. We knew that Mohammad Ada visited that club two or three times a week, and fortunately he came in the second night of my employment. ”
“You had been a dancer in the past, is that correct?”
“Yes sir, I danced for a brief time in college. I was comfortable in that environment, and I was the only new hire there that night. We knew Ada was likely prefer the services of the newest girls at least once. The night he came in I wasn’t scheduled to be on stage until midnight, and it was only eleven o’clock. I was working the floor, entertaining patrons and offering lap dances.”
“What were you wearing?”
“I chose my own clothing, had it custom made. A white leather cowgirls outfit. Short skirt, white cowboy boots, a halter top, along with long leather gloves. And of course a cowboy hat. Red, white, and blue fringe decorated the gloves and boots with a Fourth of July theme.”
“Continue.”
“So I came out on the floor of the club and hit a couple of the tables, flirting briefly with the patrons. My third table was Mr. Ada’s. After a brief conversation I took the target back into the room and…”
“Agent Ashcroft,” the director interrupted, “You seem to be missing the point. I asked for full disclosure. In case I was unclear, that means I want a detailed account of every action and every thought on a minute by minute basis. If you can’t provide that we will draw this meeting to a close right now…”
“No sir! I apologize if the retelling of events was too cursory…” Shit, she thought, How much did he know? How much did he want to know? If she disappointed him, if she lied to him, she knew she would spend the rest of his tenor stuck behind a desk, or worse, out of the agency.
She started again. “He ran his eyes up and down my body, and I could see him smiling at the outfit I was wearing. I smiled back and studied his face. He was not unattractive, which shouldn’t have mattered, but all things considered, it did matter. I knew he was in his early thirties, but his face looked younger, probably because he had shaved the beard from his profile pictures. I threw my leg up on the chair next to him, giving him a good view up my skirt, and asked if he would like something. He asked if I was new there, and I said yes. Then he said he would like some company so I sat down at his table for a few minutes. At that point we engaged in light conversation, he asked me how long I had been dancing, and I responded. The mood was light, I flirted with him and tried to be as congenial as possible.”
“We knew what was coming and I wanted him to get on with. Room #6 was open and it had to be that one. Finally he asked me if I danced and I said yes, at midnight, and mentioned that I would be more than happy to give him a private dance if he didn’t want to wait. He asked about specials and I said for $200 I would give him a dance and throw in a favor, at that point I licked my lips to emphasize the benefit. He said he would give me $300 if I made it good, and with that we proceeded to room # 6.”
“I lead him into the champagne room by the hand and sat him in the center of the leather sofa, right in front of the opening in the black curtains covering the walls. At that point, my blood was racing and my nerves were on edge. I knew what the plan was, and everything seemed fine, but things don’t always go as planned. He relaxed into the sofa and stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles. I moved in close and stood there, one leg straddling either side of him. Then I started swaying to the music, slowly at first, warming up to it. Typically, maintaining eye contact is important during that type of service, but I decided to break the rules that night. I closed my eyes and focused on the music, letting the rhythm move through me. I started to relax, and after a while I reached up and pulled the cowboy hat off, then shook my hair free. I liked the leather gloves, especially the way they felt caressing my skin. I ran my hands through my hair, slowly over my face and down to my throat. The feeling was nice, I was actually relaxing. Then a thought crossed my mind, I felt as if I was the perfect woman for this scene. I was made for it.”
She stopped for a moment, waiting for some type of response to confirm that she was providing the level of detail he was after, or if she was sharing too much.
“Continue.”
When she heard that somehow she knew; he had her number and she had to come clean, tell everything. She decided that’s just what she would do, she would tell all, every graphic detail.
“The rhythm continued to work through me, I moved my gloved hands down, carressing my throat, shoulders, and finally sliding over the halter top to cup my breasts. As my fingertips grazed my nipples I realized they were hard, and not from fear. The evidence of my excitement was obvious, and Ada wasn’t the only one that would notice. The unseen eyes behind the black curtain, just a yard in front of me, were also watching. As my hands worked their way down my stomach, making small circles in time to the music, I could feel the energy in the room changing. This had stopped being an act, it was real. It was intimate. It was intense. I glanced down at Ada, he was mesmerized, his eyes glued to my breasts. Then I looked straight ahead, my gaze focusing on the invisible man behind the curtain, I thought to myself, You like this too, don’t you? and I knew that he did.”
“I had no control over the timing. I was merely the lure. Still, I was enjoying the experience and wanted it to make it last a little longer. I wanted to delay the inevitable. I knew if I the man behind the curtain enjoyed it I knew he would wait. My hands ran down over the short skirt, and the leather gloves began to caress the inside of my bare thighs. I raised the hem of the skirt, exposing the small white silk g-string underneath. Ada’s eyes were glued to the patch of white material between my legs. I put one foot on the sofa next to him, and stroked my thigh for a few seconds before leaning my head back and letting my hand move up further, finally rubbing the material between my legs. At that point a small, involuntary shudder ran through me. I wondered if the wetness showed through the material.”
“And then Ada touched me. He put his hand on my thigh, and that broke the trance. I smiled down at him and slowly took my leg off the sofa, spreading his thighs and sinking to my knees in front of him. He had already freed himself, and was stroking his hard cock in anticipation. I gently placed my hand over his and he let go, relaxing even more into the sofa and letting out a soft moan. I leaned forward and licked my lips, they didn’t need moistening, they were drenched in fire engine red gloss. Then I let the tip of my tongue run up the length of his cock, slowly, leisurely, and I felt him shudder ever so slightly. As I did this my eyes wandered up yet again, over Ada’s head, and I wondered if the man behind the curtain knew what I was thinking. Finally I moved my mouth to the tip of his cock and began to flick my tongue ever so lightly over the swollen head. I watched Ada’s face, he was fixated on the site of the tongue and red lips as they flicked and teased endlessly. Finally he closed his eyes and rolled his head back.”
“Just as my lips began encase his swollen, throbbing dick, I saw the black gloves appear with lightening speed from behind the curtain. Ada jumped violently. I flew back, barely averting a sharp kick, and watched the wire sink into the flesh of his throat. His hands clawed helplessly as the unrelenting cord dug deeper and stretched tighter in the steel grasp of the practiced killer. Ada kicked in mad desperation. Twice he tried to move forward, tried to use his weight to unbalance the assailant behind him, but each time he was pulled back violently into the sofa. I was enthralled and overcome by the raw energy that accompanied his fight for life. I didn’t want to be a spectator, I wanted to participate. I threw myself on the sofa next to him and once again grabbed his cock with my hand. As his mind raced and his body struggled with amazing force, his cock remained hard. I began stroking him fast, with a firm hand, realizing his time was short. I wanted to hear his gasps, hear any tiny moans he might be making under the pounding music, but his struggle was too violent, it was too dangerous to risk leaning in close. I’m not sure if he was even conscious of my hand then, regardless, his cock continued to get harder. His feet were kicking and his chest was heaving, blood was running down his throat and disappearing into the dark fabric of his shirt. I could feel the ever-increasing pressure building in my fist as his tongue began to protrude and the capillaries in his eyes began to rupture. He was dying and fast. I had never watched anyone die before, and to witness such a violent, desperate demise was riveting. Suddenly he stopped struggling. His body stopped thrashing and settled into a series of convulsive shudders instead. Then he came. Great spurts of white cream shot out, staining his dark shirt in pearl like drops. I kept pumping him until the flood finally ceased. I remember looking at his face and wondering if he was still conscious, but his eyes were glazed over and very distant.“
“His arms went limp and fell to his sides. He continued to stare blankly into space. The wire remained tight for a minute or two more. During that time I continued to hold his cock, feeling it slowly soften in my grasp.”
“And then Tom…I mean Agent Robertson, threw the curtains wide open and jumped over the sofa, telling me we were done and had to leave. He grabbed my arm and pointed me towards the back exit. A minute later we were in the car heading for the highway.”
“And what happened next, Agent Ashcroft?”
She hesitated. Risking her own career was one thing, risking Tom’s was another.
“I’ll ask you one more time, Agent. What…happened…next?”
Her voice was soft, almost a whisper as she replied, “We were cruising down the highway. Agent Robertson was driving and I was in the passenger’s seat. I was still worked up from the mission, still excited. And I could see he was too. I reached over and began touching him as he drove. He pulled off the highway and parked the vehicle in the woods. At that point we had sexual relations in the backseat of the car, sir.”
Neither of them spoke for a few seconds.
“I’m glad you were honest with me, Ashcroft.”
She remained silent, holding her breath.
“As you know, we are not a military operation. We expect our agents to perform unusual tasks under unusual circumstances. As such the success of the project is the singular priority. Your extra-curricular activities with Agent Robertson did not hinder the success of that project.”
She let out a sigh of relief.
“Would it be alright if I smoked sir?”
The director pushed the ashtray on his desk towards her. As she dug through her bag to find her cigarettes the director picked up her file and flipped through it.
“Moving on, I see you requested to take a more active role in the Mohammad al-Odeibi case. Start from the beginning.”
Ashcroft lit the cigarette and inhaled deep, slowly blowing out a long plume of smoke before replying. She had become noticeably more relaxed.
“Odeibi had a reputation for being a player. Well, you saw his picture in the dossier. He is…was… a good looking man and he had a way with the ladies. We knew he frequented two nightclubs near his home on a regular basis. We also knew he had a habit of picking up women and taking them to his apartment for quickies, frequently returning to the club afterwards. He was never short of willing partners, however he managed to stay unattached, so he was nearly always available. That having all been said, his job was the easier than Ada’s. I simply picked him up in the club.”
The director looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“To be more specific, I was wearing a skin tight and very short black dress. I waited until he was on the dance floor, then worked my way through the crowd and started dancing with him. It was 12:30 and the majority of the patrons were already drunk or high by that time. The music was blaring and the dance floor was packed. The mood in the club is truly anything goes; very uninhibited. I edged his other dance partner out of the way and started dancing with him, then started putting my hands on him. That’s really all it took. In no time we were kissing, our bodies pressed together tightly as we swayed to the music. I could feel his hard-on pressing against my thigh. I reached down and stroked him a bit. After five minutes or so I lead him off the dance floor, we passed my table on the way and I grabbed my coat. Instead of heading for the front door, I led him towards the back exit.”
She wondered if she was progressing to fast. He didn’t object so she continued.
“The alley was dark and deserted except for a couple of overflowing trash dumpsters. I could see Odeibi was uncomfortable. It was cold and I shivered, putting on my coat. He made some joke about this being too dirty and too cold for a pretty woman and suggested we jump in his car and go back to his apartment instead. At that moment I had him, and could have finished the assignment right there, but I didn’t want to. Instead I leaned back against the wall and pulled him in close to me, he began nuzzling my neck. I had enjoyed him on the dance floor and I liked the feel of his body once again pressing against mine. I whispered that I wanted him, that I couldn’t wait. Then I took his hand and ran it up under my skirt, letting him discover the bareness underneath, letting him feel how excited I was. He groaned softly in my ear as his fingers explored the wetness between my thighs. I reached for his fly and unzipped his pants. My mind flashed to the tiny microphone inside my bra, and I realized that Agent Robertson could hear every word and every moan as he waited silently in the car down the street.”
“And yes, I do recall moaning. I moaned as Odeibi teased me with his hand, and I moaned louder when he spread my legs and began easing himself inside of me. I moaned again when my hand slid into my coat pocket and nestled around the silenced pistol. He made love to me slowly, gently, and I loved it. The chemistry between us was intense, every touch electric. I closed my eyes and melted with him for a few moments, his face buried in my neck as he allowed himself to become equally lost in the sensation. I kissed his neck and nibbled on his earlobe while whispering in his ear how good it felt. As his pace quickened I told him not to hold back, that this was only the first time, I told him I wanted to feel his body tremble as he came, that I wanted to hear him moan with pleasure. In a way I felt closer to him in that moment than I have felt for anyone, ever. As my finger caressed the trigger of the Glock I reveled in every moan, every muscle tremor, every stroke of his cock. I kept whispering in his ear, I told him I had wanted him from the first moment I laid eyes on him. I told him how good he felt inside of me. And when I felt his orgasm building I pulled his mouth to mine and kissed him deeply. A few moments later a deep groan escaped from his throat and I knew he was about to come. I raised the Glock, aiming it at his side, towards his heart, and held him tight with my free arm, pulling him into me as the orgasm took hold of him. Then, when the spasms started, when I knew he was at the very peak, I fired. Once. Twice. Three times.”
“His cock continued to jump inside of me for a few brief moments, then he stopped moving and pulled his face away, staring at me. Time seemed to stop. I remember stroking his cheek as his confused, glazed eyes struggled to comprehend what had just happened, I remember brushing a loose strand of hair away from his forehead. Then he dropped to his knees in front of me. I reached down and took his chin in my hand, turning his face up towards mine. A small trickle of blood spilled over his lip. A second later he fell back. When he hit the ground he was already gone. No choking, no struggling. Just a blank stare in his eyes. I looked down and saw a couple of drops of blood clinging to the tip of one finger. I rubbed the blood over my lips then licked it off, closing my eyes and relishing the salty, metallic favor.”
“Then the blinding headlights of Agent Robertson car flooded the alley as it pulled up to the entrance. I pulled the coat tightly around myself and walked away.”
“Later that night, in bed, Agent Robertson told me how he felt as he sat in that car and listened to the whole ordeal. He told me he was both jealous and excited by the encounter, how he grew hard when he heard me moan, how it drove him crazy as he imagined me making love to that target, knowing all the while I was going to kill him.”
The director opened his desk drawer and took out a pack of cigarettes. Ashcroft slid the ashtray on the desk closer to him. He lit up and inhaled deeply, reflecting on the story for a minute or two in silence.
“Let’s move on to your last assignment. Ali Hasan.”
“Ali Hasan. That assignment was by far the most difficult of the three. It was my first time working without backup, as we knew Hasan and his men were paranoid, even of working girls. He had used a number of escort services over the last two years, though all but one now refused to deal with him. However that one service had girls that would do most anything for the right amount of money. The team had to monitor their phone lines for 9 days waiting for Hasan’s call to come in. I was briefed before hand, and knew what to expect. Apparently when he was sober he wasn’t too bad, but if he was drunk he was prone to using his fists at the slightest provocation. On top of that, he was a big guy. Six foot six and weighing in at about 280 lbs.”
“The fact we had to work on his timetable--not ours, made the situation even more uncomfortable. The call finally came in at 1:00 a.m. on a Thursday night. I had barely an hour to get ready and show up at his home.”
“We knew ahead of time he would most likely ask me to strip in the bathroom and come out in a robe, primarily as a security precaution, but also for amusement. I had to enter the house without a weapon, without a wire, without so much as a can of mace. We also knew Hasan had his home scanned for bugs on a weekly basis so we didn’t even try to plant something. If the slightest thing went wrong I would not be walking out of there, the closest help was ½ a block down the street waiting in the car with no way of knowing what was going on inside. It wasn’t Agent Robertson, he was on another assignment and knew nothing about this. I was glad he wasn’t involved, he would have hated that set up.”
“When I showed up at Hasan’s front door the situation looked worse than I imagined. There were five of them in the living room. The coffee table was littered with half empty glasses and bottles of liquor, there were mirrors with remnants of coke scattered around. The air was thick with cigar smoke and the odor of spicy food. Bad music from a low grade porn flick flooded the room from the wide screen tv in the corner. The group of men leered at me and made jokes in Arabic as I entered the living room. Hasan said nothing, he just looked. One of the others, since identified as Bin Khalid, tossed me a short silk robe and told me to go into the bathroom and strip, then come out in the robe.”
“I went into the bathroom and stripped completely, folding my clothes into a neat little pile on the counter. I was shaking. Finally I put on the robe and came out. Khalid told me to stand in the middle of the room and drop the robe. I complied, and I could feel the blood rushing to my face as the robe slipped to the floor, leaving me completely exposed to the eyes of the men. They started making more comments in Arabic, laughing and making hand gestures. Hasan told me to turn around slowly, and I did, raising my arms as I rotated in a circle. Giving them all a good look, and letting them know I wasn’t hiding anything. When he said okay I quickly put on the robe back on. I looked down at the half empty glasses on the table and asked if I could have a drink. He grunted his approval and I grabbed one of the glasses, not caring which one of them had used it, and gulped down the contents. Straight Bourbon. It almost made me heave. This caused yet another round of comments and jokes. They knew I was scared, and all things considered, that wasn’t a bad thing.”
“Hasan got up and walked down the hall into the back bedroom. I followed him. When we entered the room he shut the door and began to strip with his back turned to me. The room was as I expected, completely windowless, the only way in or out was through that one door. I stood there and waited for him to finish. When he was completely undressed he sprawled across the bed on his back and muttered, “Suck me”. I stood there for a brief moment, then dropped the robe and crawled onto the bed on all fours. I began to fellate him. At first I was a bit concerned, he had drunk a lot and he was only semi-hard. After a minute or two I asked if I was doing it right, if he wanted it softer or harder. He muttered if I wasn’t doing it right he would let me know. God he was a big man. Huge arms, huge legs, and a hefty gut. Hairy, muscular, fucking intimidating. I knew he could snap my neck in a heartbeat. Finally his cock began to respond. He was getting hard. He preferred half and half, and after a while he told me to get on top. His cock was as big as the rest of him, and I was dry as a bone. I didn’t have any lube, and I wasn’t going to ask him for some. I swung my leg over him and began to lower myself onto the huge piece of meat between his legs.
“As I started easing myself onto him he opened his eyes and smirked, saying “A whore that’s tight like a virgin.” He started laughing. “I like tight,” he said, and then he slapped me on the ass and said “Your ass tight too?” That comment threw me. That was not part of the plan and I shuddered at the thought of him going there. He saw the look in my eyes and started laughing again. His hands wandered up to my breasts and he started to pinch my nipples, at first lightly, then harder. I winced a little. I could see he liked seeing my pain. He liked the pain between my legs too. He started to laugh and took me by the hips, driving himself an inch deeper. I let out a moan, I let him know it hurt. He chuckled. About that time I realized things were going okay, under control, and I started to relax. I began to anticipate the feeling of his hard meat ripping through me, touching bottom. As he held my hips firmly and drove in harder, and I watched his face, I saw the look of coldness in his eyes, and I thought to myself, Yeah baby, give it to me. It hurts, but I like it.”
“His eyes were fixated between my legs, he enjoyed watching his cock slide inside of me. I guess most men like that view. He had me firmly by the hips and he thrust again, deeper still, his eyes still focused on the eight inches of shaft that was barely halfway inside. I knew he was getting close. I stared into his face and studied him. I guess I must have had a smile at that time, because he glanced up and stared back. Then he said, “Your smiling. You like this, huh?” and my smile broadened a little. “Yeah,” I purred in response, “I like it. Fuck me baby.” His eyes turned a bit colder, he apparently didn’t want his whores enjoying it, but I went on, “Drill me deep…give it to me baby…fuck me hard!” I could tell he didn’t like that attitude at all, I expected that he would jam himself in hard, make it really hurt, but instead he stopped moving, maybe he was thinking about slapping me, reminding me of my place. I wasn’t going to wait and find out.”
“I growled under my breath and I forced my weight down on him as hard as I could, impaling myself onto his cock, taking it in as deep. It hurt bad. It felt like a battering ram covered in sand paper ripping through my insides. Yet, at the same time it felt damn good.”
“In my minds eye I saw the hard rubber diaphragm, I saw the sharp, shiny needle in the center, shimmering with cold sterility as it waited to puncture the smooth, taunt skin covering the head of his swollen prick. When I felt the diaphragm slam into my cervix I knew the needle was piercing the sensitive head of his cock with swift, clean precision, sinking in a full three quarters of an inch, instantly injecting the tiny vial of cyanide. The needle detaching along with the tiny syringe, remaining firmly imbedded in his cock as I bore my weight down on him. I think I let out a short scream at that moment; it was a feeling of elation, a feeling of conquest. I really was fucking him to death, and despite the pain I really was enjoying it.”
She stopped briefly, and took another long drag off her cigarette while staring into space. As she blew the smoke out the director could see the hint of a smile cross her lips.
Then she let out a sigh and continued, “That moment of bliss was short lived, as the instant he felt the pain he reached up and grabbed me by the throat with a vice like grip. The tables had turned once more. His hand was like steel. I realized he would crush my trachea. I grabbed his wrist and clawed at his arm desperately, knowing I had to break his hold by wrenching one of his fingers, but somehow it was happening to fast, things were out of control. He wasn’t going to strangle me, he was simply going to crush my throat. I saw stars as my arteries were forced shut by the amazing pressure. The poison was supposed to be instant, this wasn’t supposed to happen. He had a look of utter hatred and rage on his face, he knew he was dead and he was determined to drag me to hell with him.”
“But then as suddenly as it started, it stopped. His hand relaxed and fell away as he began to convulse violently on the bed. I was coughing and gasping, grabbing my throat for a few moments, I was so grateful that I could still breathe. As I caught my breath I watched him convulse. His eyes had rolled back into his head, his eyelids fluttered spasmodically. I stared at him for a bit, fascinated as the veins popped out in his throat and his face turned crimson red. The sensation of him convulsing beneath me was not unpleasant. Not at all. Maybe my brush with death added to the feeling, maybe the fight had flooded my head with a rush of endorphins, I’m not sure, but I became aware of my own excitement. The idea of fucking this son of a bitch while he died beneath me seemed right. I could feel the wetness start between my legs, and I began to move my hips slowly, rocking back and forth. I reached down and began masturbating as I watched him twitch and seize in the throes of death.”
“He was died fast, but not too fast. Not before I came.”
She blew out another plume of smoke and then snuffed the cigarette out in the ashtray.
“Afterwards he was still. I laid on top of him for a brief while, catching my breath and letting my head clear. Finally I got up and glanced in the mirror, the bruises had already started to appear around my throat.”
“When I left the bedroom and once again faced the rest of the men my knees were weak and I was shaky on my feet. They noticed, but of course never guessed the reason. They saw the bruises on my throat and a couple of them started laughing yet again. I snatched my clothes from the bathroom and didn’t even bother to put them on, but simply started for the door in the robe. With Hasan’s reputation for roughing up call girls, I was sure a hasty departure was far from unusual. As I reached for the door one of put their hand on it and stopped me saying “You forgetting something?” I thought “Oh shit, what now, a gang-bang?” Then he laughed and pointed to the stack of bills on the coffee table. I’m sure the look of relief was evident on my face. I walked over and grabbed the cash, counting it fast. Two grand. Then I left.”
“And for the record Director, yes, I kept the money. I earned it. It bought me a week in the Bahamas.”
For the first time she saw a slight smile threaten to cross the director’s face. Almost, but not quite.
He said nothing for a long moment. Finally he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a file. He tossed the open folder on the desk in front of her. The picture in the file showed a good looking middle eastern man with high cheekbones and coal black eyes.
“Abdul bin Aziz. Your next assignment.”
Ashcroft studied the picture in the profile.
“Agent Robertson will be your partner on this. I expect a full and complete report on your return.”
“Yes sir.”
“This meeting is adjourned. Have a good day, Agent Ashcroft.”
Ashcroft picked up the file and slid it into her briefcase. As she left the office, closing the door silently behind her, she thought, God I love this job.