SHADOW WORLD - THE TALE BEGINS

The sunrise was bleeding over the sky, bathing the windows in warmth and sending pinkish colored bands of light over the plain white walls, but Yehudah was oblivious to the beauty growing outside of his window. His eyes were shut tight, his body rocking back and forth in deep prayer. The black strap of his tefillin pressed tightly into his arm at all of the perfect spots, the leather so well-practiced, they practically wrapped themselves. A small black box poked out of his forehead, comical to some, but to Yehudah, one of his most sacred accessories at the moment. The prayers flew automatically through his head and he was barely aware of them as he felt the presence of HaShem filling his body as he moved.

Finally, he opened his eyes, rubbing them as they re-adjusted to the light and took a deep breath. Removing the tefillin, he kissed both parts of it before folding it neatly back in their box and zipping it into the cloth bag decorated with Hebrew letters that meant more things than he ever cared to explain to the hopelessly ignorant. Yehudah then moved into his small bathroom and took another glance in the mirror. His dark eyes glazed over the scarred left side of his face before he adjusted the round black kipa on the back of his head and gave the strings of his tzit-tzit a slight tug so that they hung neater from the ends of his tucked-in shirt and down along his thighs. He then slipped out into the tiny living room and picked up his gun, checked that it was loaded, and secured it to its holster at his chest before finally going to the fridge.

A simple breakfast of sliced cucumber and yogurt filled his time while he made himself comfortable and waited for the cell phone beside him to ring. He wondered what the new orders would bring him, what mission awaited him to further serve himself and, by proxy, HaShem God.

The call Yehudah had been waiting for came as he finished up his breakfast. The voice on the other end of the phone was his director and the conversation was short and sweet.

“Your services are needed, Yehudah. It seems Jessica has taken up with a rogue American agent. The company sent in a team to eliminate the American and Jessica stepped them. She’s too much of a threat to let her go unchecked. Make sure you do it as quietly as possible.”

The phone went dead leaving Yehudah to his own to figure out where he needed to go and what he needed to do but he was a resourceful Mossad agent and would be able to figure everything out like he usually did.

Michael gave a sigh of relief, the tension bleeding off his chest as he looked out across the empty Mediterranean. "Looks like it's just you and me and the blue of the Med. this evening Jess." Michael said as his right hand, that had been hovering close to his weapon, moved to the four throttles. "You better steady yourself and hang on." He said as he eased the throttles forward, watching the RPM's and the spedometer climb. In a matter of just a few minutes, they were skipping across the gentle rolls of the Mediterranean at sixty-nine knots ( 80 miles an hour ) with throttle to spare. Michael reached over and turned the navigation lights on. He kept an eye on the lime green line as it circled the radar screen, ocassionally illuminating the coast with each steady rotation. "Why don't you see if there are any worthwhile CD's to listen to." Michael said as he placed a wireless ear phone in his right ear, reached up to the VHF Radio and dialed in the French Coast Guard's guard channel. He then set the scanner to monitor the French naval gaurd channel.

Quietly. Now that was something Yehudah could handle. He quickly moved to his cabinet and moved the neatly hung clothes aside to reveal the false back. This, he unlocked with the key he kept on his person at all times and pulled open the door revealing a small arsenal. He selected a few choice toys, including a silencer, before locking it again and moving everything back into place-- again, a normal closet. He then left the apartment looking like nothing more than a young professional carrying a business bag.

He thought about the case-- about a Mossad agent going rogue and running off with an American of all people. A small scowl crossed Yehudah's face. America was a poisonous land for the Jewish people. He'd seen them in crowds of tourists moving through the Holy City like a cloud of locusts, the way they sneered at him, his tzit-tzit and his kipa as though he were the one in the wrong while they drove on Shabbat and filled their bodies with pork and shellfish. Cretins. America bred self-hatred and tore at the soul of every Jew born in its cultural clutches. Finishing Hitler's work as his mother used to say. To hear of a Mossad agent giving into such temptations . . . the thought pulled at Yehudah's heart. Her death will be a benefit to his people, pleasing in the Lord's eye.



Even in the early morning, the dry, desert sun was already beginning to bake Yehudah's skin as he walked down the stone roads of Jerusalem. Already the streets were filling with cars, early-morning commuters and other devoted ones spilling out from Temples and the heart of the Old City after their morning minyan. Yehudah nodded in acknowledgment of those who made eye contact, a small smile curling his mouth as he passed. To others, he looked away or simply moved past.

He passed the K'Nesset without a second glance and turned in to the hidden door leading into Mossad's headquarters. First, he would need to do a little research.

Yehudah moved through the familiar motions, greeting people who greeted him and swiping and fingerprinting and optical scanning his way through the security until he reached his desk. Setting his bag beside himself, Yehudah pulled up the files he needed and began his search for his target. He would need to work efficiently as the Sabbath approached. His first step: Re-trace her steps. He typed in the name Jessica Bishop and watched the screen work.

As Yehudah searched the files for Jessica’s work he would find that she had been assigned to work with the CIA in discovering a possible threat, a biological one at that, in the French Riviera. He would see her American operatives names and the fact they had recently been reassigned to unknown origins in the world.

The intelligence reports of the team sent from the States to retrieve Michael for questioning and the fact they had all been KIA, some by her hand and others by Michaels. What Yehudah WOULD find interesting was the fact that written in the reports, but not so easily discernable, was the fact the team had been split apart AFTER the contact with the triple agent took place.

Reports of the incidents at the race track following the race and the explosion of Michael’s bus would flash on the screen along with more intelligence of sightings of Jess and Michael, supposedly. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to take as real intelligence since they had pretty much avoided any surveillance camera that could have captured their presence.

What ever happened, there was more to the story that what it appeared to be on the surface. But that wasn’t his concern. Yehudah was assigned to eliminate an agent who, for all practical purposes, had turned her back on the only real family she’d ever had.

A transgression those within the Mossad didn’t take kindly to.

As Jess rummaged through the CD’s on the boat, she frowned and finally handed Michael a CD. When she saw him look at it then quirk a brow and look at her, she gave him a rather deadpan look.

”It’s all I could find. Everything else is some sort of Monk chanting relaxation music and I don’t think we want that right now.”

As Michael inserted the CD into the stereo system, the speakers began to blare out AC/DC’s “For those about to Rock”. When Michael started chuckling Jess shoved his shoulder and gave him a cross look before she picked up the binoculars and started searching the blue waters of the Mediterranean for would be threats as Michael started singing along with the high pitched singer on the CD.

Michael kept the speeding offshore cruiser out from the coast of southern France, singing along, off key along with the singer from AC/DC. His eyes scanned the horizon and the radar screen as Jessica and he spipped across the gentle swells of the Mediterranean. For all intents and purposes just another wealthy couple cruising the northwestern Mediterranean. As the flouresant green line swept across the screen monotonously and steadily for several hours. "We just might make it with out any ......" Michaels words were cut short as three blips appeared then dissapeared on the screen, then appeared again. Michael reached down and increased the sensitivity on the radar, untill the wave clutter scrambled the screen. He then backed it off a touch. There they were, steady now, moving rapidly from the coast. "Shit, Jess I think we may have company .......three o'clock off the starboard beam. "The return images are too small and faint for coast gaurd or navy, must be fishing or zodiacs." Michael said as the blimps seperated and began to encircle the Formula Cruiser. Looking over at Jessica, as she trained the binoculars out over the starboard beam. "Well, do we stand and fight or try and out run them?" MIchael then glanced down at the fuel gauges.

Yehudah squinted as he studied the screen and its information. His heart boiled at mention of Jessica's apparent treachery. He wondered about the apparent split of Jessie's team and wondered if they could be contacted for more information. Always fairly good at multitasking, Yehudah began his attempts to get in contact with the CIA Agents while taking note of the location of the bus explosion. He had a feeling that the starting point was there. Talking in a low, businesslike tone to the security personnel on the other side, he prepared for an abrupt trip to France.

Jess had them in the lenses of her binoculars as Michael talked to her. She finally lowered the lenses and picked up her gun getting it ready for firing. Glancing over at Michael, she nodded.

”Both. Do your best to out run them. In the meantime, I’ll do my best to hold them at bay. If worse comes to worse, we ditch the boat and take our chances in the water. Last thing I want is for them to find the opening below the villa. If they find that there’ll be no protecting your mom and the others.”

She saw him glance at the fuel gauge then looked back at him.

”Wide open, Michael until we can’t anymore. We’ll do what ever we can when the time comes.”

As Michael pushed the throttle for more speed, Jess made her way back below deck and rummaged around until she found what she was looking for. When she emerged again she had some things in her hand. When Michael looked over he would see she had gathered up what she could to make volatile Molotov Cocktails.

Taking up position on the starboard side of the boat, she waited until she knew they would be within striking range before she would shoot at them. And even then she would be selective to conserve her ammunition.

As Jessica, stepped down the companionway, Michael reach up on the console and switched from silent exhaust to outboard exhaust, pushed the four throttles steadliy forward as the rmps rose steadily, then the sound of the engines went from a staedy roar too a whine and a roar as the blowers kicked in. The forty four foot craft shuddered slightly then sped up steadily as Michael adjusted the trim tabs.
When Jessica climbed back up on deck and moved to the starboard rail, Michael noticed the molatov cocktails she had prepared, raising an eyebrow, he said over the roar of the engines in his best Clark Gable as Rett Butler voice. "Frankly Jessica , my dear, I'm beginning to think I am a bad influence on you,." then grinned broadly. ....... The sound of automatic weapons and fifty caliber machine guns began to be heard, as a line of fountains of water walked across the Mediterrean just behind the stern of the boat. Michael kept his left hand on the throttles, placed his knee against the helm's wheel, picked up the binoculars with his right hand and looked along the shore line of the French coast.

Yehudah stepped off the plane and breezed through security as always. Despite his face-- for some reason always more disturbing in an airport-- his Mossad ID seemed to speak louder than his scars. Moving towards the windows, he flipped open his phone and turned it on, watching and waiting for it to find a signal and the inevitable count of messages. He was relieved to see one voice message, curious to see a second. Leaning against the wall, he put the wall to his ear and turned his attention to the phone while his eye followed those of a young child who was staring at the left side of his face with a kind of curious awe while being pulled along by his mother.

The first was, as he had hoped, from a diplomat working with the CIA relaying messages between them and Mossad regarding his ability to contact the agents who had been split from Jessica Bishop. The second, however, proved to be far more interesting: Intelligence as to the target's possible whereabouts. Yehudah's eyes widened and he immediately straightened, staring unseeingly ahead of him as he clung to every word in the message.

The CIA would have to wait.

The phone rang in room two two seven of the Hotel Cap Estel, located east of Monte Carlo on the Moroccan cost. Jean Claude Rennie‘ reached over and picked up the receiver “ Bonjour.” he said. The cold business like voice of the phone spoke rapidly in French. “Il apparaît que notre ami américain s'est obtenu dans l'ennui encore.” The voice spoke again explaining a problem the French government had, involving a large quantity of a biological toxin, that had been stolen, and the fact that the Director of the CIA, Lee Darius and an a British Agent for MI6, Wayland Forest known to be working with the CIA, had mysteriously vanished. The voice on the phone went on to explain that CIA Agent Michael Degarrio was thought to be in the company of a Mossad operative known as Jessica Bishop. And that Director Darius, Michael, Jessica, Wayland had all been working together and had been in contact with a suspected triple agent, Angelic Dupree. Jean raised his eyebrows at this information. They had obtained some information from Madame Dupree Shortly after that they Director and Agent Forest vanished. Jean said “Cela est plus s'intéressant, je verrai que je peux découvrir.” The phone went dead and Jean hung it up. He stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the Mediterranean, he thought to himself (What is going on Michael Degarrio, what information did you obtain from DGSE Agent Dupree?)

Jean called down to the desk and requested his car, he then packed his suitcase and went down to the lobby to check out.

As Jean Claude finished checking out and walked to the doors of the hotel, the parking valette drove his black Mercedes E Class Sedan up. As the valette stepped out of the vehicle, Jean was walking around the rear bumper, after placing his suit case and two suiter in the trunk. Carrying a small black lap top case, tgo the drivers side door, tipped the young man and slid into the driver's seat. After the valette closed the drivers door, Jeadm drove out onto Vilefrance sur Bord de Mar and out past the airport, then turned west on Boulevard de la Page towards Cannes, then along the coast, scanning the Medeterranean on his left from time to time.

As Jean Claude's eyes shited from the winding coastal road and the Mediterranian along the coast line, he began to see the faint orange flashes of light moving across the water. He pulled off the side o the road and stepped out of his E-Class Mercedees. He heard the roar of an offshore boat, the whine of outboard engines and the sound of what was obviously machine gun fire. He jumped back into the Mercedees and sped down the coast road looking for an access road to the beach.

Out on the Med, 50 caliber bulletts danced across the deck at Jesican's feet, shattering fiberglass and missing her by inches, then walked up and across the dash of the helms station to the left of Michael. Another line o bulletts danced across the water and through the hull of the speeding offshore cruiser just above the waterline. Michael manuvered the slowing craft in an evasive pattern toward the beach as the port engine sputtered and coughed smoke. Michael looked at Jessica and said "Looks like we go for a swim." He tien off the helm, and ran below. There he set the timers of the charges he had set in the engine compartment, hurried up the companionway, threw four water tight case out on the deck and stepped out and over to the wheel. "Six minutes" he shouted to Jessica as he took hold of the wheel.

Jess was growing increasingly angered at the persistent pursuers that dogged her and Michael now. She cared little for being the target of such a manhunt and the more they tried to eliminate her and Michael the m ore she was believing it was some way to silence them for something or make them the fall agents for something gone awry. Either way it insured she and Michael would not be able to rest until they reached a safe house under the cover of darkness. Things were just too risky in broad daylight now.

As the bullets danced across the fiberglass deck of the boat deck she cursed under her breath in Israeli. Taking careful aim at the dark shadows quickly advancing upon them now that the boat began to slow, she fired off several shots at all of the approaching boats. When she was out of ammo that’s when Michael decided it was time to go.

As Michael set the timers on the engine charges he’d made earlier, Jess lit one of the Molotov cocktails she made earlier and threw it at the approaching boat. The bottle sailed thru the air and landed on the forward craft exploding in a flash of orange.

She was getting ready to light another one when she heard the sound of gun fire and felt a white hot pain in her shoulder. The impact of the bullet to her body threw her forward almost into Michael as he came back from the companionway. As he steadied her back on her feet, she looked back at the boats then looked to Michael and nodded.

”Come on….let’s let this bitch blow. The timing should be perfect.”

Seeing the look on Michael’s face, she furrowed her brows and nodded.

”Just a scratch. I’ll be fine. Come one….let’s go….please, Michael….no arguments.”

As the boats grew closer, she made her way over to the side of the boat and waited for Michael to give her the signal. As she waited for what seemed like forever for Michael to give the signal for the abandon ship she heard the sound of gun fire erupt once again and a look cross Michael’s face that made her realize her darkest fear had come true.

Michael had been shot.

Michael, reached down for one of the abandon ship bags he had prepared , when he felt a searing hot pain in his left hip, an instant later he could not make his right hand grip the bag. A grimace of pain crossed his face for a micro second. For the first time in his life, Michael felt the cold hand of fear on his shoulder. "Was this how it was all to end?" he thought to himself. Glancing up he saw Jessie standing at the rail of the boat. "Go he shouted!" as he reached down with his left hand and tossed the bags over the rail. Jessie jumped and Michael followed a brief moment later, clearing the rail, just has the offshore cruiser exploded in smoke and fire. Michael could feel the heat as he hit the water.

As Yehudah pulled around the road's bend to see the sun bleeding out over the water's horizon, he silently cursed himself for taking so long to get here. Though he knew there was little he could have done to expedite the relaxed attitude that seemed to carry over every staff member in or around the airport, he couldn't help but wonder. Still, he sped down the road, drifting around another bend in the road as the beach moved alongside him, parallel and mocking him. The Mossad agent was patient, of course. He had to be.

Suddenly, another flash of fiery orange caught his eye. Something that didn't quite contrast with the slowly setting sun, but didn't exactly blend in either. Pulling the rental car over, he turned his sharp eyes towards the water and narrowed them so hard, he felt the rough scars on the side of his face pull against the strained, hardened skin. Slamming his foot down on the gas pedal, the car growled as Yehudah moved down the road at about the speed of his own reactions, all the while flicking his head periodically in the direction of the beach. He had to keep an eye on the flaming object in the water. Unfortunately, his scarred one was the one that faced the window and his periphery was nothing but a frustrating white blur.

Yehudah was just starting to seriously entertain the idea of jumping the guardrail and trying his luck with plummeting over the road's rocky side when he came across it: An access road to the water just big enough for a small car and an attached boat. He floored the pedal now and checked the water again. When he turned back, however, there was more than just a road in front of him. Slamming his foot down on the breaks, Yehudah slid down the uneven road, barreling towards the Mercedes that was crawling its way into the access road (as far as Yehudah was concerned). His rental unwilling to slow down, Yehudah wrenched his wheel at the last second and spun away from the Mercedes, the rental's tail whipping out and stopping within centimeters of the other car.

"Shit!" Yehudah swore in Hebrew, "hurry up!" The other driver sped up upon Yehudah's approach and pulled down onto the beach only to come to a stop about where Yehudah was going to park. Another swear hissed from the Mossad agent's lips as he paused, re-thinking his position and praying the rich idiot with his stupid, overpriced car would move along and find another place to park. Yehudah didn't really want to have to work around idiot bystanders. Glancing at the water again, he knew didn't have much time so he instead sped down the access ramp and parked on the other side of it. He decided to try to pull the authority card and see if he could get the guy to move. But first, he had to check and see. As he hastily parked, Yehudah pulled out a pair of binoculars and pointed it at the direction of the flames that sat on the water's surface. Gliding his line of sight around the area of the flames, he could clearly see it was a boat that looked like it had been in quite the little conflict. Adjusting his focus, Yehudah could also see the white trails of other boats that seemed to be closing in on it. All good signs, but not exactly what he wanted. Any trained Mossad agent would have abandoned such a wreck, which meant, if he hadn't taken as long as he'd thought, there was nowhere else for the potential victims to go except . . . aah, there they were. Swimming for dear life through the water.

Yehudah tried to focus his binoculars on one or the other but it was impossible to identify them when they were splashing and dipping into the water. Still, he watched them for another moment, picking out the way they were swimming. It was purposeful, if not slightly jerky... perhaps they were injured? Still, there was enough for an evasive look to it, a little too much skill, for Yehudah to feel confident enough to put down his binoculars, a satisfied curl at the corner of his mouth. He had them in his sights, he just had to be careful. This may be easier than he thought. But first, he needed to get rid of this witness. Stepping away from the car, Yehudah held up his badge so that it caught the light and moved toward the Mercedes.

"Excuse me, sir!" he called out, hoping the driver would not pick up on his Israeli accent and start asking annoying questions. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to move."

Jessica had come close to losing her life before now but this was the first time she could actually feel the icy fingers of death closing around her. To make matters worse it seemed as though Michael was going to be dragged in with her. How was that fair? He hadn’t done anything to deserve losing his life. For the love of God please don’t let this be the end.

As Michael hit the water and the boat exploded into splinters and debris, Jessica ducked beneath the water’s surface to keep from getting burned by the fire ball that expanded out over the water. She could feel the percussion from the blast in the water and it was all she could do to maintain her buoyancy. When her head broke the surface of the water again she sucked in a large volume of air and frantically began searching for Michael.

A shadow bobbed in the water a few yards away from her and she made her way towards it hoping it would be the dark, wet head of her friend and fellow agent. Unfortunately it was one of the waterproof cases Michael tossed over just before he dove in. As she painfully treaded water she turned on all directions looking for Michael. She was about to call out for him when she was pulled under when her ankle was grabbed from beneath.

Looking at her ankle in the darkened waters she could just make out Michael’s face and she quickly reached for him and dragged him to the water’s surface. As soon as both of their faces were free from the water they gulped in air. Michael was barely holding on and Jess could tell from the glazed look in his eyes he was fading faster than she liked. Looking around at the situation she acted quickly.

”Hold on Michael…..The shore isn’t too far of a swim….we can make it…”

Taking Michael’s belt from his trousers, she used it to gather up the cases and loop them together and use them as a flotation device. Holding Michael’s head above water with her wounded arm she used her good hand to hold onto the strap and keep them both above water as she began to kick with her feet and get them to the shore.

Question was…..what would happen first? Would she reach the shore before the crew of the one remaining boat regained their senses and started looking for them or would the crew reach her before she could get her feet on any sort of dry land?