SHADOW WORLD - THE TALE BEGINS

The black Lanborgini comes to a screaching halt outside the Fluer De Francia Casino, located in Monte Carlo on the French Riviera, the door opens and a 37 yr old tanned, black haired, athletical fit man opens the door and climbs out. Wearing Posche Carrera sunglasses, a black tuxcedo, in his tuxcedo jacket are two black Smith & Wessont 40 cal. semi-automatic pistols, in shoulder holsters and highly polished black shoes. Slips the parking valet a folded one hundred dollar biil and walks with a barely perceptible limp, up to the doors of the Fleur de la Francia Casino.

As Michael Degarrio approached the doors to the casino, Maurice, the doorman bowed slightly as he opened the door and said “Bonjour monsieur Deggario et est bienvenu à la Fleur de la Francia“ (Translation: Good afternoon Mister Deggario and welcome to The Flower Of France).

Michael reached in his pocket and slipped Maurice a folded one hundred dollar bill and said with a smile “Bonjour Maurice.”(Translation: Good afternoon Maurice) Michael then walked into the casino, looked around and proceeded to the roulette wheel where his contact an attractive dark haired French woman was seated. He stepped up beside her and placed five thousand francs in chips on the red number six. The French woman placed five thousand francs in chips on the number seven, then placed a thousand franc chip beside Michael’s bet tapping it lightly with her index finger.

The pit boss said “ Tout de fait Tout de fait” (Translator :All done All done) he spun the wheel and the small chrome ball rolled around the wheel landing on number six . “Rouge Numéro six Rouge Numéro six” (Translator:Red Number six Red Number six ) and slid the winnings to Michael and the French woman. Michael slipped the chips into his pocket and stepped away from the wheel, and walked to the bar.

Taking a seat at a table towards the back he sat facing the gambling tables. A seductive and attractive blonde waitress walked over carrying a tray with a drink on it, and in broken english said with a provocative smile "Ah Monsieur Deggario a club soda and lime? You remember you promeese teach me fast drive , no?"

Michael smiled and said "Thank you Charleen, yes I remember perhaps Saturday."

Charleen smiled and said "Bon" and walked off, just as the dark haired French woman from the roulette table walked in.

At the end of the bar, but not out of view of Michael and his guest, sat a dark haired woman wearing a sleek, black dress that draped over her lithe form like ink. Her hair, pulled up off her neck that was encircled by a thin row of rather shiny diamonds, had more shiny diamonds littered in her dark tresses. Around her left wrist was a bracelet of the same diamonds. When she moved her feet, a similar anklet could be seen around her right ankle. Positioned in such a way that she could easily see Michael’s table without turning her head, she made sure she stayed in the same seat at the bar she had claimed earlier.

Jessie Bishop didn’t like being partnered up with anyone, let alone a spoiled playboy who seemed to be nothing more than a handsome face instead of a true agent of anything. How Michael DeGarrio became an agent was still a mystery to her. Especially after the horrific accident he suffered. Even now she could see the limp she was certain others didn’t even notice. There as no room for inflated egos and as far as she could tell, Michael’s was the biggest ego she’d encountered thus far. Thankfully she wouldn’t have to spend much time around him this trip. It was strictly informational and that was all.

As the French woman approached, Jessie and Michael made brief eye contact letting each other know they were well aware each one was there. Taking a sip of her water, she smiled at a man who approached with that all too familiar smile on his face.

“Would you like some company, Miss….?”

His French accent would most likely have made some women melt, but Jessie found it irritating to say the least. There was something about French men that made her think of them as inferior. Not sure why, it just was the way she saw them.

“Dugall. Abbey Dugall. And I might want some company. Why don’t you buy me a drink and we’ll see if there’s anything we have in common?”

The man smiled triumphantly, glanced over at some other men who seemed both elated and disappointed and sat down. Jessie knew right away what was up and she would be more than happy to play this man’s strings as long as she could. Nothing suited her better than baiting these sort of men only to leave them with nothing more than a cold shoulder by the time they parted ways.

The man motioned to the bar tender.

“She’ll have another on my tab.”

The bartended nodded and brought Jessie another ice water just as she finished the one she was nursing. Sliding her slender index finger along the rim, she gave her best coy look to the man and leaned in closer, lowering her voice.

“So…tell me….what brings you to the French Riviera?”

The man smiled again.

“Why….beautiful, exotic women of course.”

Jessie laughed softly.

“Ah…I see….well….I’ll have to see if I can find one for you.”

And this is the way it would go until Michael was done with his meeting with the woman. And Jessie couldn’t wait until he was done and they could leave this place.

Wayland Forest examined himself in the bathroom mirror. He played with his hair, checked his teeth, fixed his tie and tugged at his cuffs, then he repeated this process three more times until the irresistible urge to find an imperfection was satisfied by the discovery of a barely perceptible piece of lint on his left shoulder.

"Mr. Tessier. Lawrence Tessier." He rehearsed, first with a perfect Parisian accent, then with his own fine Oxford voice. He preferred not to attempt to pass as French, they could simply sense the English in a man and the origins of his character were not necessary for his cover.

"Ready?" An American voice asked via a minute communication device. Merely a thin fiber optic filament that adhered to his skin behind Wayland's ear and ran along the side of his neck and under the jaw line.

Wayland nodded to the mirror.

"Okay," Said the agent in charge, "I'm uploading a file to your monocle."

Over Wayland's right eye was a contact lens that could receive and hold a single file but had no storage capacity. Once the the file was sent the viewer had to memorize the information as it would be erased by the next transmission. It was cutting edge technology that was useful for secretive text messaging and the quick exchange of data. The image of a bold looking woman appeared in the right of Wayland's field of vision and her name, Jessica Bishop and the small amount of information they had on her appeared beside it.

"Jessie's your back up. She's in the lobby now and is using the alias, Abbey Dugall. She has acquired an asset. " Director Lee Darius informed him.

Wayland winced at the name. She did not look like a Dugall, but very few people were as attuned to ethnicities as he was so it was an acceptable name. He memorized her bio, and the information vanished.

"Michael has made contact with the mark. They are bugging her room as we speak, proceed in five, four, three..."

Wayland left the bathroom and proceeded through the vacant hotel room. His face was expressionless, his eyes focused. As he reached for the door knob, two men dressed as a hotel employees exited a room across from his and walked quickly toward the stairway at the end of the hall. Silently, Wayland opened his door, walked behind the men, slipped his keycard in the door from which they just exited and entered the room.

The two disguised men continued on their way while Wayland immediately began his search for the bugs they had just left within the room of the 'French woman' that had become a vital link in the success of their current mission. He had approximately ten minutes before the devices would go live, and in that time he had to tap each one with their own transmitters. Once in place they would allow them not only eaves drop but also allow them to use global positioning on their targets so long as they continued to monitor the room. Wayland's keen eyes scanned the room, and he located the first bug even before his small hand held 'sweeper' alerted him. Deftly, he secured one of their 'taps' then proceeded to locate the cameras. He had didn't know how many they installed, but based on the amount of time they took he had a fairly good idea.

Michael was aware of the time. He knew exactly how long Wayland had, and his window of opportunity had expired seven minutes ago. During the procedure they had to maintain silence, else any transmissions might be picked up while Wayland was so close to the bugs. He had to make his move soon, and there had been no word, yet.

"Monsieur?" Said the bartender to get Michael's attention. "Compliments of the blonde haired gentleman at the bar."

Michael looked past the bartender and there was Wayland, in his element, enjoying a glass of merlot.

The bartender placed two glasses on the table and displayed the label to Michael, a 1999 Maciarelli from the Abruzzo region, a fine bottle of Italian red. He handed Michael the cork, then by his lead poured him a taste of the wine.

Angelic Dupree, according to her dossier a triple agent of the French DGSE - General Directorate for External Security Generale de la Securite Exterieure currently in the employee of the IRIIM - Islamic Republic Of Iran Intelligence Ministry walked over to his table. He stepped up and kissed her on the cheek, as she slipped a five hundred franc gambling chip into the pocket of his tuxedo. Encoded into the chip were digital photographs of an Iranian nuclear weapons facility outside of Tehran. Michael slid the chair opposite him out for her as she sat, he then returned to his seat and motioned for Charlene.

Angelic then whispered “ Monsieur Degarrio, I have kept my part of the agreement now you must keep yours.”

“If the information checks out, we’ll keep our part of the agreement.” Michael whispered coldly “I hope your luck at the tables continued Mademoiselle Broucheer.” Michael said as Charlene approached the table. “A glass of .....”
It was then that the bartender approached the table and said "Compliments of the blonde haired gentleman at the bar. He told me to wish you good luck in Grand Prix of Monaco Monsieur Degarrio." and placed two glasses on the table and displayed the label to Michael, a 1999 Maciarelli from the Abruzzo region, a fine bottle of Italian red. He handed Michael the cork, then by his lead poured him a taste of the wine. Charlene discreetly retreated. Michael looked past the bartender and bowed his head slightly at Wayland. Michael then examined the label and tasted the wine. “Thank the gentleman for me Arluin.” Arluin poured a glass for Mademoiselle Broucheer, then half a glass for Michael, sat the bottle down and returned to the bar.

After Arluin had left Michael asked “A friend of yours, Mademoiselle Broucheer?”
The French woman glanced at Wayland and said to Michael “No he must just be a racing enthusiast.”
“Well he does have good taste in wine at least.” Michael said as he lifted his glass to her.

Angelic, lightly touched Michael’s glass with hers, took a sip of wine and asked “You are racing in Monaco? Perhaps I shall come and watch.” Michael smiled and said “Please do as my guest, won’t you?” Angelic smiled seductively and said “Perhaps I shall.”

It was then that Michaels cell phone vibrated, he took it out and said “Pardon me a moment Mademoiselle Broucheer.”

“This is Michael...... Yes Harry...... No it is quiet alright...... I see, ok I’ll be right there.” he then closed the phone and placed it back in his jacket.

After the server had informed Wayland that Mr. DeGarrio would like him to join his table his wine did not flow so smoothly down his throat. He nodded a thank you, and while pretending to answer his pda spoke with Director Darius.

"I am about to make contact wit the mark. She may have taken not of the prearranged signal.", Wayland informed him, who had disagreed to what the director had believed would be a subtle signal for the setting, especially in a casino.

There was the sound of long sigh in his ear piece, and then Darius responded with a simple, "Crap." His response was hardly professional, but then the director was renown for his unorthodox methods and he hated it when his plans didn't go the way he perceived them.

"Sir?" Prompted Wayland, seeking a little more direction than his generic description of a plan gone awry.

"You better play the role." Ordered the director.

Wayland, tucked his pda into his breast pocket and requested his drink be brought to him at the table of Mr. Degarrio. The server returned, promptly placed his glass and wine bottle on their tray and followed behind.

Wayland sat down. "Thank you." he told the server as he offered his tip. Then turning to the others at the table quipped, "Casinos, you can't take a few steps without losing money.", then he introduced himself as Lawrence Tessier. There were introductions all around, and Wayland played the role of an avid racing fan, even though he'd never watched a race in life as he was more keen on betting on horses rather than flashy cars.

When, DeGarrio's phone rang, Mademoiselle Broucheer, took the opportunity to speak directly with Mr. Tessier in french, assuming that the language came with his french name. "You do not strike me as one who follows the circuit, Monsieur Tessier."

Wayland smiled, and felt that honesty was a more prudent course to follow. "Truly I'm not", he admitted, speaking perfect french of the Parisian dialect, "I recognized Mr. DeGarrio, from the poster in the lobby advertising the Monaco Grand Prix. It seems he's being labeled as the black sheep this year and wanted to meet the man I planned on placing a sizable wager on."

"I agree with you." Said Mademoiselle Broucheer, then cast a sideways look at DeGarrio, "I too believe in learning all I can about my horses before, how to the american's say, 'Leaping into bed with them'?"

Wayland's expression remained sober and responded in his pleasant english voice, "Quite.", then turned his attention back to DeGarrio as he finished is brief conversation, awaiting to learn what his fellow agent had up his sleeve.

Jessie was playing the part of the single woman looking for a good time role rather well. A few times, the man who was trying to hit on her reached out to lay his hand on her thigh and each time, she discreetly moved so that his hand was dropped from touching her. Why couldn’t she just observe from a hidden camera or something? Why was she drafted to play the part of the bimbo? She’d be sure to make her point with the agent in charge when the time was right.

In the meantime, she laughed at the right moments, looked interested enough and even gave the right subtle hints the man was going to get what he was after. All the while she could see what Michael and now the blond Wayland were doing.

As Michael took the call from his phone, Jessie knew her vital role was going to come up soon. And this poor sap was going to find himself with a very bad headache the next morning when it was all said and done. Hopefully Michael would give the signal soon and she could make her move, allowing the man to ‘escort’ her to his room. Unfortunately for him, it wouldn’t be a night he would care to remember.

After Michael had slipped the cell phone back in his jacket, then extended his hand to Tessier "A pleasure to meet you Mr. Tessier ....
Thank you again for the wine ...... A dark horse you say, well I have every intention of ending the race in Victory Lane, so your bet is safe." Michael said with a smile and an aire of confidence. He then took a small sip of the wine and placed the glass back down on the table. He then lifted the cuff of his shirt sleave and glanced at his watch, tugging slighly at his shirt sleave to cover the watch back up. ( a signal to his associates and unnoticed by the French woman Angelic) " Please excuse me, I have an appointment I must keep. Please stay and enjoy the wine." he then stood shook Tessier's hand again, slipping the encoded chip into Wayland's hand. He then steppd over and took Angelic's hand and kissed it. "Perhaps we can continue our conversation latter Angelic." Angelic placed her hand on his and whispered “I’ll take the bottle to my room, number 457, I’ll keep it cold.”
Michael whispered “I may be quite late.” Angelic whispered I’ll wait up.” and slipped a key card into his pocket. ” Michael, giving a quick glance, that Angelic did not see to Jessie. nodded and walked over to the bar and slid a one hundred dollar bill to the bartender. He gave a quick glance and smile to Jessie, then turned and walked out of the bar and casino.

As the parking attendant drove Michael's black Lamborgini up and steped out, Michane slipped the young man a five hundred franc casino chip, climbed into the ideling sports car. He buckled up, reved up the finely tuned engine and drove off towards the television studio over looking the start finish line for an interview with ESPN.

"I'll be betting on you Mr. Deggario." Mr. Tessier said as he took the chip from him during the handshake.

Wayland was a master of sleight of hand and easily transfered the 500 franc chip from Michael's hand to his pocket in a matter of moments. Even the most well trained eye would have been hard pressed to perceive the exchange but Angelic Dupure's intuition had been honed by her many years as a triple agent. To survive in her world one needed to be not just one step ahead but three at all times and even the trickery of Wayland Forest was transparent before her eyes.

Mademoiselle Dupure pushed one of her long shining tresses behind her ear as Michael walked to the bar, a habit that would have gone unnoticed in any other situation but Wayland had anticipated the signal. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a rather thick necked man react to her subtle motion and from what he could recall of their immediate vicinity in the casino he had been alone the entire time.

Wayland feigned the receiving of a message on his pda and acted concerned. "Forgive me Mademoiselle Dupure, but I too have some urgent business I must attend to.", he said in French as he pushed his chair away from the table.

"Oh, you cannot desert me as well Monsieur Tessier. How will it look if I am abandoned by two handsome men instead of just the one?" Said Dupure playfully with a serious undertone.

Wayland smiled and continued his departure, "My dear, we both know this will only work to your advantage.", he wittily remarked then proceeded to stroll past the bar. She had tried to stall and he wondered why would she turn over the chip only to steal it back? Unless, Dupure had set them up. That had to be it! She was selling them out! But too who?

Speaking under his breath into the comm-link Wayland alerted Director Darius that their deal had been compromised. "We have a serious situation. I do believe that Miss Dupure is as you Americans say, 'selling us down the river'. I have a shadow, do you see him?"



"Just a moment." Responded Darius as he switched links with another camera in the casino to get a better view of Wayland's tail, "Got 'em. He's circling around the other side of the bar, I think he's trying to..." Darius trailed off for a moment while he checked another camera. "... yeah, he has two more buddies waiting in the lobby."

Wayland had studied the schematics of the casino and knew that his chances of escape were good, but they weren't perfect and the chip was too important to lose. More importantly, they could not be captured with it on their person or their could be a serious international incident.

"I slight change of plans." Announced Wayland and he headed straight for Jessie and her 'asset' at the bar. As he passed by them he slipped the chip into the pocket of Jessie's male companion only because her dress was too risky for the drop off.

"Jessie's asset has the package." Wayland informed the group and then he briskly walked toward the lobby by way of the blackjack tables and stopped for a quick game. He bought in with 2000 francs and requested 500 franc chips, beginning his first hand with a rather large man standing behind him.

"He's big." Director Darius informed him as he zoomed in on the man's face and began to check his features against their database "And ugly.", he added.

Wayland made sure he lost a hand to discard a chip. He figured if they were observant and thorough enough they may believe that he was discarding the chip into the pot for safe keeping. Every little diversion would only to work to their advantage.

Darius got a hit. The profile for the man looming over Wayland came up and the description he was about to relay was preceded by the disconcerting sound of a whistle. It was never a good sign when Lee Darius chirped prior to providing information and the usually calm agent could feel a nervous heat rising up through his collar. "The man's name is Viktor Romanov, he used to work for the Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki, the Foreign Intelligence Service of Russia. Seems after the down-sizing that occurred in the 90's, Viktor was out of a job and became a free agent. Whatever you do don't engage him combat." Warned Darius, "This guy COULD kill you with a credit card and leave it clean enough for a night on the town. You clear on that?"

"Crystal." Whispered Wayland as he won his second hand and doubled his money.

Wayland kept on eye on Jessie and the bozo he had passed the chip to. He had managed to slip it into the guys back pocket which would keep it safe from discovery but difficult to retrieve, but he was confident that Jessie could handle the matter. Now, even if they were caught, none of them could be incriminated, unfortunately agent Bishop would have to somehow get into the pants of her 'asset'. He knew he'd probably get an ear full from her after all was said and done, and wondered what would be worse, going a few rounds with Mr. Romanov or Jessica Bishop?

Jessie heard Wayland's words in the near invisible comm unit she was wearing in her ear.

“Jessie's asset has the package.”

There was no outward indication Jessie had heard anything, but inwardly she was seething. The LAST thing she wanted to do right now was entertain this fellow anymore than she had to. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to be the case now. However, deep down Jessie knew that wouldn’t be the case if things hadn’t made a turn for the worse. Thankfully, for her asset, while he had been indulging in scotch all night, Jessie had been drinking nothing but water so while he was feeling the affects of the alcohol in his blood stream, Jessie was very alert but playing the part of a woman who had been drinking all night. Director Darius broke in then.

“Listen, we’ve got major players in the casino now. Seems our lovely Angelic has tried to set us up for failure. Viktor Romanov, former Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki operative and some of his buddies are in the house. Michael’s free and Wayland is trying to shake them. You need to get past all of them and get that chip.”

At least Jessie knew what to look for now. Then again, there wasn’t a time when she wasn’t looking for things. At almost the same time Wayland noticed the thick necked man in the casino, Jessie did as well. She knew it wasn’t a coincidence he moved AFTER Ms. Dupure pushed her hair behind her ear. How she would love to smash that bitches face in right now but she would practice restraint. One day, though, she promised herself she would have a face to face with the triple agent and there would only be one of them walking away when it was all said and done. And it wouldn’t be the French bimbo.

Smiling coyly, Jessie made her move to retrieve the chip. This wasn’t going to be a quick and easy as she had hoped. In fact, there was only one way this was going to happen. If there was anything she detested about being a secret operative, it was this particular aspect of the job. Cozying up to the man, she leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. No one needed to know what was said for the look on his face said it all.

Downing the rest of his drink in one swift gulp, he smiled like a shark about to pounce on his prey and extended his arm for Jessie to take. As Jessie slid off her stool, she made once quick glance towards Wayland to make sure he wasn’t in immediate danger then moved along with her inebriated partner.

Director Darius watched her in the different camera’s she passed and saw how the man’s hands were practically all over her right form the beginning. Taking the first elevator, they were fairly calm until the doors closed. The man was all over Jessie the instant the doors closed and it was all she could do to hold him at bay and play the very hard to get woman while wearing a smile. Thankfully the elevator ride wasn’t very long and they got off on the fifth floor.

Again as they walked to his room the man’s hands were all over Jessie. They stopped at room 515 and Director Darius lost sight of Jessie when they entered the room. Needless to say it was a very tense time as Darius seemed to be glued to the camera that showed room 515 on it.

“Dammit….I don’t like not being able to see.”

The minutes ticked on and still no sign of Jessie. Finally, almost 30 minutes later, Jessie stepped out of the room looking no worse for wear. To keep up the act, though, she seemed to adjust her dress and look both ways before heading for the elevator again. Darius continued to watch her until she left the casino and had one of the attendants hail a cab for her. As soon as the cab was under way, she notified Darius of her situation in Israeli making it seem as though she were singing a song.

“Chip acquired. Heading to safe house. Can’t wait to see Wayland and give him my thanks, personally.”

As soon as Darius got the message he couldn’t help but chuckle despite the tenseness of the situation and relayed the message to both Michael and Wayland.

“Jessie has the chip and she’s on her way to the safe house. She said she’s anxious to see you again, Wayland.”

Darius eyed the cameras and saw the Russian thugs follow the chips that had been collected from Wayland’s table by the casino workers. Even Viktor followed up the rear and kept looking over his shoulder from time to time to see if anyone was aware of what he was up to. As soon as the group turned the corner and Wayland was no longer in view of the thugs, Darius was back on the comm. link to Wayland.

“All clear, Wayland. Get the hell out of there now. Get to the safe house with the Michael and Jessie.”

Wayland was very curious why the henchmen, would simply let him go to pursue his decoys without ensuring that he did not retain the actual chip. Then that tingling sensation on the back of his neck alerted him that he was being followed. He could not say for sure who it was, but he was certain of it.

"I do believe I may have ghost." Wayland alerted Darius.

"If you do, they're good. I can't see anything. Can you verify?" Responded Darius.

"Negative. No visual, but I am quite certain." Replied Wayland as he walked briskly though the lobby and made his way through the main entrance of the casino. He then proceeded to walk up the busy side walk of the Rue de Emmanuelle searching any reflection that would allow him to see his pursuer. It was then that he took note of a silver Maserati that was definitely moving a little too slow for comfort.



"I believe I am going to regret this," Announced Wayland, "but I do believe I might need a pick-up and fast one. I am being pursued by a silver coloured Maserati Quattroporte."

Director Darius opened a channel to Michael. "Degarrio. Wayland is in need of a fast set of wheels, I need you to intercept. And, Degarrio, I don't think he's had a chance to take any gravol, so if you value your upholstery I'd watch the stunt driving." Added Darius knowing very well how much Wayland hated car chases, and often avoided driving with Michael but for him to knowingly request Degarrio, the situation must be serious. His comment was also directed specifically at Degarrio to ensure that he made an effort not to create too much havoc on the French streets.

Michael slammed on the brakes of the Lamborghini turning the wheel, causing the automobile to slide sideways and spin around, he down shifted, slammed on the accelerator and sped back towards the Casino De Riviera as he sped down Rue de Emmanuelle, he saw Wayland walking slowly followed by the silver Maserati.

Michael slammed on the brakes again causing the automobile to slide, turning the wheel he slid up to the curb, just ahead of Wayland. Depressing a button on the console, the door slid up and out. Michael looked at Wayland as he walked along side and said "Need a Lift?" then glanced in the mirror as the Maserati stopped. a half a block behind them and pulled to the curb. When Wayland climbed and pulled the door down Michael said "I think you should buckle up."

Michael depressed the automatic lock mechanism on the console for the door, revved the engine, shifted to first and slammed the accelerator down. Speed shifted up through the gears to fourth as the engine whined and the speedometer read 65 Km/hour. Michael turned left, slamming the brakes and down shifting to second, sliding around the corner off Rue de Emmanuelle. The Maserati was right behind them as they drove towards Casino row. Michael upshifted thru third and into fourth, decelerated, downshifting to first and 35 Km/h slid right, accelerated and up shifted through the gears to 5th and 145 Km/h speeding down Casino Row and the harbor. As the Maserati sped past an intersection of a side street, the scream of tires and the blasting of a horn were briefly heard as it swerved to avoid a lorry pulling from a side street, Soon the warble of a police siren could be heard as a French police car joined the pursuit.

Michael glanced at Wayland, grinned and said "Looks like we've drawn some attention to ourselves." He then downshifted slammed on the brakes and turned hard right. The Lamborghini slid around the corner as Michael stomped on the accelerator again up shifting, downshifted turned the wheel and slid right again then a hard left and began the climb up the narrow switch back road up the mountainside at high speed, tires screaming around the corners "I think a drive in the country would be nice. Don't you? ...... You look like you could use a bit of fresh air." Wayland glanced out his window to open air as the Lamborghini skated the edge of the road and the shear drop off the mountain side with the lights of the Riviera below. Michael said. Gun fire erupted from the Maserati as they skidded around a left hand curve and entered a tunnel, the bullets ricocheting off the side of the mountain and entrance. Michael taped a small button on the steering wheel and a bullet proof shield extended from the roof of the Lamborghini to the spoiler. More bullets ricocheted off the shield and the sides of the tunnel as Michael swerved from lane to lane smoothly. As they exited the tunnel Michael downshifted, slammed on the brakes and spun the automobile around. "Let's see if these guys have any balls ...... Besides, I am going to be late for an appointment."
He then revved the engine, slammed the accelerator down and accelerated back through the tunnel, driving down the center. As the Maserati's headlights grew closer, "The hardest thing about playing chicken is knowing when to blink." Michael said with a smile.

Michael held his line heading straight for the Maserati. The silver Maserati slammed on its brakes, swerving to miss Michael and lost control slamming into the side of the tunnel in a shower of metal and flames, sliding towards Michael and Wayland. Michael sped though the smoke without slowing, as the Maserati slipped across the roadway behind them and slammed into the other wall. Michael calmly down shifted and slowed as they drove out of the tunnel, past the pursuing French Police car and back towards Casino Row. Michael spoke into the COM link "Director Darius ....... Wayland's shadow made a sudden stop. It seems he reached a dead end. ...... Wayland and I are continuing to the television studio for my interview with ESPN. I might be even able to make it on time." Michael closed the COM link, retracted the bullet proof shield and drove leisurely back down the mountain towards the television station, passing a fire truck and ambulance headed back towards the tunnel. "They usually have a nice buffet or deli tray at these things you know. I am rather hungry, what about you?" he said to Wayland.

Wayland concentrated on staring straight ahead as the Italian sports car sped through the city. He could feel his organs moving around in his body as Michael rapidly decelerated then gunned the car to what Wayland considered to be in-human speeds. His expression hardly changed, however, it was trademark of his character. Very rarely did Wayland reveal much emotion or at least give away any tell tale signs of what may be going through his calculating mind.

At some point he had read that a prime cause of motion sickness resulted from a person's peripheral being over stimulated and so by focusing on what's ahead a person could nullify the effects. What tripe! The writer obviously never rode in Lamborghini going mach one with a formula 1 driver behind the wheel. Wayland could feel supper rolling around in his stomach, slowly inching it's way upward but as Michael spun the car about adrenaline kicked in and his nausea was trumped by a sudden fear of death.

Michael had put them on a collision course with the other car and though he seemed quite confident with his maneuver, Wayland considered that it could also very well be the onset of madness. As Michael smiled, he grit his teeth and tried to swallow one last time as the Maserati screamed towards them.

In a split second Wayland's mind processed the odds of their survival, he calculated every possible scenario he could think of and everyone ended up a stalemate. There was no way either would turn, their bodies would be mangled and compressed along with the fusing metal of the vehicles! Then the Maserati actually 'chickened' out, as the term goes, and Michael calmly drove back down the mountain leaving fiery destruction in his wake.

Michael's mention of a buffet could not have been more inappropriate and Wayland began to appear somewhat ill. He checked the side mirror and made sure that they were away from the police. "Would you mind if we pulled over?" He asked and though he attempted to remain as stolid as ever, his colour and and sweat beading on his forehead made it evident that Michael had less than a minute before the interior of his car would require a thorough cleaning.

About a block away from an apartment building on the southern side of the city, Jessie had the cabbie pull to the side of the road. As she got out of the cab she checked the immediate area to make sure she wasn’t followed, but just to be on the safe side, she entered a different building. As she took the elevator up, she counted out the seconds it took the elevator to reach the fourth floor. Once on the landing, she made her way to room 416. Once again checking the corridor, she saw the elevator close and heard the motor sending it back down.

Checking the door, Jessie saw that the piece of thread at the top was still on the outside of the door telling her no one had entered the room since she left. At least, not through the door, anyway. Turning the key in the door, she quickly slipped inside and closed the door behind her and locking it securely.

Leaving the lights off, Jessie took off the thin heels and darted into the room, checked to make sure no one was waiting for her unexpectedly then retrieved a dark duffle bag from under the bed. Easing the zipper of her dress down in the back, she shrugged out of the fancy garment and let it lay in a heap on the floor. Unzipping the duffle bag, she withdrew a pair of black cargo pants and slid them onto her legs then reached into the bag to withdraw a black, long sleeved t-shirt, quickly pulling it over her head. Getting the chip from her evening clutch bag, she slid the chip into her right front pants pocket. Donning a pair of black socks and black jump boots that had were quick zip equipped, she withdrew a shoulder holster with a black Glock 9MM settled into the black leather.

Sliding the holster onto her shoulders and pulling the Glock from the holster, Jessie checked to make sure it was loaded then pulled the pins form her hair only to pull it back into a single ponytail. Sliding black kid gloves onto her hands that had the fingertips open, she reached into the duffle bag and pulled the silencer out and screwed it onto the end of the Glock’s barrel. Last but not least she pulled a black, waist length jacket from the bag and shrugged into it. Stuffing the garments she changed out of into the duffle bag, she kicked the duffle bag under the bed just as she heard footsteps in the hallway just outside her door.

Quietly but quickly darting to the dark corner of the room, she held the Glock ready and flattened herself against the wall and listened closely while she relayed the information to Darius, once more using the Israeli language in a barely audible whisper.



“I have company in the alternate location. Unknown if they are hostiles or not.”

Darius cringed when he heard the news relayed to him from Jessie.

“Keep it quiet if you have no choice but to terminate. We don’t need any attention drawn to this area.”

Jessie actually smiled.

“I’m not always without couth.”

Darius merely shook his head and could have said plenty, but instead he remained quiet so he didn’t interfere with Jessie’s work.

Thankfully the noise was nothing more than the couple a few doors down coming home after a night on the town. Their laughter and stumbling told Jessie they had a bit too much to drink again. Breathing a sigh of relief, she holstered the Glock and moved to the window.

“False alarm. Just the kids down the hall.”

“Thank God for small miracles.”

Opening it up, she poked her head out and looked around then slipped out onto the fire escape but instead of heading down, she headed up. Once on the roof, she headed for the building adjacent to the one she had entered. Another roof top stroll and Jessie was walking down the steps of the fire escape of a different building. Once on the ground, she headed for the parking garage across the street, glancing around at her surroundings. Taking the elevator to the thrid floor, she walked past several cars.

Pulling the key from her pants pocket, Jessie approached a black Porsche 911. Double checking her surroundings, she unlocked and opened the door before sliding behind the wheel. Firing the engine, she pushed the car into first gear, looked around again then slowly pulled from the parking place. As she drove down the cork screw drive that would take her to the road, she contacted Darius again.

“So far, so good. I should be there in about an hour.”

Darius tapped his fingers.

“You know I won’t relax until I see your lovely face.”

“Flattery will get you no where.”

“Yeah….I’ve come to know that about you.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed then.”

“I’m not. I just wish some of my Yankee charm worked on you like it did most other women.”

“I’m not like most other women.”

“Don’t I know it. Watch your six and get here in one piece.”

“Copy that.”

When she reached the street, Jessie stopped and looked both ways then pulled out of the garage and began making her way out of the city and heading towards the country side. When she left the city limits and things began to thin out, she spoke to Darius again.

“Heard from Michael and Wayland yet?”

“Yeah…..seems as though Michael’s idea of a quiet get away isn’t the same as what yours and Wayland’s is. They’ll be joining us when Michael gets done giving an interview with ESPN.”

Jessie clenched her jaw at the thought of Michael playing for the media.

“Oh what joy. If I could stop by and pick Wayland up without raising suspicion, I would. I can imagine he’s just thrilled to be stuck with the spoiled brat as he performs for the cameras.”

“Yeah, well….you can’t so you’ll be stuck with me until they get here.”

Jessie smiled again.

“Have a drink waiting for me, honey. I’ll be home soon.”

Darius rolled his eyes again.

“Sure thing, DEAR.”

True to her word, it was almost an hour later when the sound of Jessie’s car engine and the glow of her lights arrived at a quaint cottage. Turning the engine off, she got out of the car and made her way to the front door. Entering the code on the key pad to the right of the door frame, she waited for the LED to indicate she needed to move closer for the retinal scan. When the system confirmed it was her, the door was unlocked. Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her and came face to face with Darius, holding a glass of red wine for her.

Taking the time to remove her gloves and jacket, Jessie reached into her right front pocket and pulled out the chip and handed it to Darius as she reached for the glass of wine. Darius took the chip as Jessie took a sip of the wine. Both let out a sigh of relief before making their way to a couch in the center of the large room.

“Thank God that parts over with now.”

Jessie nodded.

“Now we just need to make sure the other two get here.”

Darius nodded then flipped on the TV to show Michael’s live interview on ESPN.

“As soon as this is over with, they’ll be joining us.”

Jessie furrowed her brows, stood up, said something very unladylike in the language of the land she called home and walked to the kitchen.

“I’m starving. Want me to get you anything while I’m out here?”

“Nah…I’m good thanks.”

Jessie glanced at the TV one last time to see Michael smiling at the female commentator that was asking him another question. Rolling her eyes, she turned her back on the TV and proceeded to fix herself something to eat. Anything to keep from watching the TV.

Following a brief stop so Wayland could "get some air", he and Michael proceeded to the television studios. Michael introduced Wayland as his personal aide and body guard as he signed them in and identification badges were issued that allowed them to proceed to the set. As Wayland stood off camera and watched, Michael sat down for the interview. The young attractive anchoret asked several questions about his past, racing. as a graphic displayed his racing victories. Then about rumors of Michael's engagement to a French Super Model, which Michael dispelled as ludicrous. She asked the upcoming Monaco Grand Prix, and finally about the near fatal crash in Brazil.



As two images of the crash, flashed on the monitor, Michael thought for a moment, reflecting back to the Brazilian Grand Prix "First I want to thank God, the incredible job of the rescue and emergency response team that work for the Brazilian Grand Prix racing organization. As well as the doctors and nurses at Saint Augustine’s Hospital in Sao Paulo, my crew and all the fans who offered assistance and more importantly prayers. Without their prayers I would not be sitting here now. I wish to thank my mother for her devotion and courage......and my father for teaching me the value of hard work.

The crash in no way reflects on the excellent job my crew did to build me a safe and reliable race car. Nor the superb driving skills of the other drivers. It was my inattention that caused it. I am thankful that no one else was injured."

The anchoret then said ... "Michael, is certainly was a miracle that you survived and are able to continue racing. Much to the joy of all your fans, the fans of Formula One Racing and to the betterment of racing as a whole." she then added "Michael we all here at ESPN wish you the best of luck tomorrow and thank you for taking a break from your preparations to have this word with us."

"Thank you Juliette for inviting me." Michael said and then added with a grin "I will see you tomorrow in "Victory Lane."

When the producer indicated that the cameras were off, Michael rose from his chair, shook hands with Juliette and members of the crew. One of the camera men looked at him sheepishly, pulling a Degarrio Racing ball cap from his back pocket and asked "Mr. Degarrio, would you mind signing this hat, for my son, he is a big fan?" An exasperated sigh could be heard from several of the television crew on the set and the floor producer started to step forward, when Michael said "I would be honored to." he took the hat, took a sharpie from the camera man and said "Your son's name?"

"Michael Rousaue." said the camera man

Michael smiled as he noticed the camera man's name on his id bage....... "To my good friend Michael Rousaue...Drive fast and hard to victory lane........Michael Degarrio" Michael wrote on the brim of the hat and handed it back to the camera man.
"Now if you all will excuse me I have to get a bit of rest.....I have a busy day tomorrow."

Michael and Wayland left the studios and forty-five minutes latter arrived at the quaint cottage in the country side. Pulling up next to Jessie's black Porsche 911, turning the engine off, they both climbed out of the Lamborghini



and made their way to the front door. Entering the code on the key pad to the right of the door frame, they waited for the LED to indicate they each needed to move closer for the retinal scan. When the system confirmed it was them, the door was unlocked. "After you Wayland." Michael said graciously.

Wayland lead the way through the door and was startled as he nearly walked right into Director Darius who did not look very happy to see either of them. Standing with his hands on his hips Darius resembled a concerned father who had been awaiting to catch the kids who had stayed out past their curfew.


"Well you two took your time." Darius scolded then thrust a thumb over his shoulder toward the T.V. "Your little stunt has been all over the news but they're chalking it up to race weekend mania. You're both damn lucky there were no cameras around."

Wayland was silent and did not move until Darius returned to the couch and picked up the remote. He simultaneously pressed a couple of buttons which caused the screen to display a mode called 'Link1' with a code request beside the label. Darius punched a series of buttons on the remote and the code was accepted, allowing the T.V. to serve as monitor for one of many of the C.I.A. operation networks. During the process, Wayland took the opportunity to head into the kitchen and procure from the fridge a Newcastle Brown Ale, cracked the top and sat down in an arm chair.

Darius looked over at Wayland his expression cold and serious as the agent took a long delightful drink of the ale. Then, Wayland revealed a second bottle he had been keeping out of sight and handed it to the Director.

"You're learning." Said Darius as he reached over, took the beer and gave Wayland's bottle a clink before taking a sip. "Now all we need is some football on TV and we'd have us a real American moment." His joke bombed, but then what did he expect from an Englishman, an Italian and an Israeli; that in itself was funnier, at least to him.

Darius handed Michael the chip so that he could place it in the drive next to the giant flat screen then activated the holographic image of a keyboard on the black glass coffee table.

"Just about done making that sandwich, Jess?" Called Darius, and when she joined him on the couch proceeded to access the chip and go over their next assignment.

Jessie didn’t acknowledge Wayland when he walked into the kitchen to get himself a drink. Not that she was being rude, but because she was going over the events that took place earlier in the evening. While she was aware of the others arrival to the cottage and knew where they all were at all times, she knew she was in no danger in their presence and thus she was able to critique the mission in her mind before she joined the others. At least she’d shed her jacket and gloves but kept her weapon on her and hadn’t taken her boots off just yet.

When Darius asked her if she was done making the sandwich, she turned and walked out of the kitchen handing Michael and Wayland sandwich’s as well. Knowing Wayland stomach would be settled by now, she figured he’d be hungry and Michael, well, he always seemed to like to eat. When Wayland looked at her, she held his gaze for a moment silently letting him know they had things to discuss later. The sandwiches weren’t anything special; just some turkey, cheese, mayo, lettuce, and tomato on wheat bread.

Sitting on the opposite end of the couch, she propped her feet on the coffee table and toasted the others with her wine glass.

“Here’s to hoping we got what we came for, gentlemen.”

She started eating as she waited to see if the information on the chip was valid.

When Michael placed the chip into the drive that was connected to the large TV screen, the system began to decipher the coded information and extract a series of images. They were not clear at first, but all the agents could agree that they appeared to be schematics and floor plans, but for what and where they could not be sure. What did become apparent as the images flashed across the screen was that some of the plans were written cyrillic.


When they had reached the end of the files, Director Darius skipped back to one schematic in particular that had caught his eye. Leaning forward, the Director expanded the drawing and as he zoomed in, more detailed schematics came into view that were too small to be properly viewed at 100%.

"You wanna translate, Wayland." Requested the Director.


The language specialist, studied the cylindrical image for a while then read aloud the cyrillic writing beneath it. "RT-23 Intercontinental Ballistic Missle, Yuzhnoye Design Bureau, 1983." He paused and read silently for a while then gasped, "It's nuclear."

Darius sighed and leaned back into the couch, his eyes trained on the screen. "It's also known a SS-24 Scalpel." He informed the agents, "A three stage missle with 10 multiple independently targetable reentry vehicle warheads, each with a 550 kiloton yield. All of them were retired in 2003 and as far as we know were completely disassembled, but that sill wouldn't stop someone from getting their hands on the warhead." Speculated Darius who was looking worried. "We'll have to get this properly analyzed, but did any of you notice anything else that might have rung a bell?"

Jessie leaned forward and furrowed her brow as she listened to all of this. But there was something bothering her about what she saw flash by the screen earlier.

“Can you please back it up to one of the first slides?”

Darius began flipping through sides and Jessie’s brow creased even more. Shaking her head at each slide Darius moved to, Jess was getting frustrated and thought perhaps she had seen something that wasn’t there when the slide suddenly appeared on the screen.

Jessie held her hand up for him to stop and studied the slide even more. Not understanding the writing, she DID understand one thing that was on the screen. It blared at her like a red neon light in an elegant neighborhood.

Standing up and walking over to the screen, Jess pointed to the lower left corner of the screen to show the men what she had spotted.



“I don’t need an interpreter to know what that means.”

Looking over at Wayland, she requested his interpretation skills again as she walked back to sit next to him on the couch.

“While we know what this means, can you figure out exactly what this is, Way?”

In the lower right part of the screen was another logo that wasn’t quite as noticeable as the first, but it was there all the same.

Michael had removed his tuxedo jacket, which revealed the double shoulder holster with his two Smith & Wesson M&P 40 caliber semi automatic weapon and had sat down. He looked up when Jessie offered him a sandwich, thanked her, leaned forward, picked up his coffee and leaned forward and picked up his coffee cup, took a sip, set the coffee cup back down and leaned back. He took a bite of the sandwich, chewed swallowed and said "I think after I win the race tomorrow, I'll jump on my plane and pay a visit to Asterand Laboratories in Royston, Herts, England. I imagine a check for say a million pounds and an advertising endorsement should buy me a pretty extensive tour. Don't you? ...... Of course I may need to take my attorney and personal secretary along." Michael said as he looked first at Wayland and then at Jessie. ....... Michael then looked at Director Darius, holding up his hand. "I know .... I know .... If I or any member of my team should be captured, killed or contact a flesh eating biohazordous disease, the agency will disavow any knowledge of our existence or our mission."

( softly whistles the Mission Impossible theme from the old television series )

Wayland raised his hand, "I call dibs on the secretary." he said in usual dry English manner and when Darius looked over to laugh he gave the director a sardonic stare, "I'm quite serious." he said.

Darius shook his head. "Yeeeaah, well I'm afraid you're stuck being lawyer. Jessie's going need the flexibility, besides she looks a hell of a lot better in a skirt than you do." He commented adding to the mischief.

"My, word! What a sexist remark." Exclaimed Wayland pretending to be shocked before once more donning his cool, calm, unemotional masque as he briefly glanced at the Asterand site that Michael had googled. He then slid the keyboard controller in front of him and quickly typed in the address and brought up the website in another window. Wayland quickly scanned through the information and committing most of the information to memory then he returned his attention to the schematics.

"Ah, there we go." Wayland announced, as he zoomed in on a small diagram embedded in one of the missile schematics, bringing up a series of chemical codes. "It's a formula for a toxin. Probably a bio-weapon." he surmised, but then studying it further he was intrigued. "Now, I'm not an expert," he declared "but there also appears a genetic code combined with it."

"Which means?" Inquired Darius with a serious tone to his rough voice.

Wayland shook his head. "I'm not sure. Possibly a combination between a virus and toxin."

Darius squinted an eye in disbelief, "Is that even possible?"

"Some toxins, like Staphylococcal Apha-toxin is an extracellular protein that is excreted by most pathogenic strains of Staphylococcus aureus—" Wayland began to explain but then Darius interjected with a, "In english please." and so he went on to explain to the group that, "—while toxins are poisonous substances produced by living cells, scientists are now developing synthetic toxins which could theoretically be combined with living viruses to make a toxic-pathogen. Which would be so lethal that it could wipe out ten city blocks of all life as quickly as it could be dispersed."

Jessie listened to the banter between the men and she couldn’t help but chuckle softly at how offended Wayland pretended to be by the remark Darius made. But the jokes were done as quickly as they started when they all devoted their attention to the matter at hand.

As Wayland explained about the new synthetic toxins being produced, a memory surfaced in Jessie’s mind and she quickly added to what Wayland had explained.

”These lab produced toxins also have a self destruct mechanism embedded in their genetics as well. Once the host dies, they disintegrate. When you do a tox screen on the body, it won’t show up unless you do the screening within the first 30 minutes. It’s a way for the creators to insure no antidote is created except by them. So the only ones who have access to such a thing are the ones who place the highest bid and the lab rats that created the death serum in the first place.”

Her eyes slid to Wayland then to Michael.

”Wayland and I will thoroughly research Asterand while you’re racing to make sure we have all our ducks in a row. You just make sure you make it to the end of the race unscathed. And try to remember we have a mission so no after race parties. You can celebrate with what ever the flavor of the week is when you get back.”

Now that they had a clue as to what the beginning was, Jessie got up and took all the dishes back to the kitchen and loaded them in the dishwasher. The hour grew late and they would have to be up early to get all the info they needed. Turning to the men, she bid them good night and walked to her room of the cottage.

Stripping out of her clothes, she showered, slid into her sleep clothes and practically fell into the bed. Checking the gun under her pillow to make sure it was ready to go, she placed it back under the pillow and turned the lights out in her room. It was time to turn the world off and get some sleep.

Michael arose early on race day, as he usually does, after a semi restless night, his mind going over every part of the race track as he tries to sleep. He showers and shaves....dresses in his faded torn blue jeans and blue Grand Prix of Australia tee-shirt and walks out of his hotel and down to the church. He walks in, genuflexes, placing a bit of holy water on his forehead and makes the sign of the cross. He walks to the alter ...genuflexes, lights three candles, kneels and prays silently. After several moments, he rises, walks to the confessional, enters and speaks softly with the priest. He then exits the confessional and returns to the alter and kneels crosses himself and says five Hail Mary's and two Our Fathers.

Michael then rises, genuflexes, turns and walks silently out of the church, leaving a
generous donation behind. He then walks down the street, stopping from time to time to speak with a shop owner or race fan. He arrives at the drivers entrance, where he leaves VIP pit passes for Jessie, Waylund and Daruis, in the names they were using as aliases. Walks across the paddock over to the Degarrio Racing Garage, into the garage..... Michael stops to put his arms around his mechanic and each member of his crew, then speaks softly....

"Thank you gentlemen, I know you have done everything possible to the excellence of your ability....whatever happens today I am proud of you... I only hope I can live up to your expectations and give you back a small amount of the pride I have in you and your abilities."

He then looks at them all and grins....

" NOW LETS GO WIN A RACE!!!! "

He then walks to his Crew chiefs office, and confers briefly with Harry, his Crew Chief and trusted friend, then goes to his dressing room alone. Michael dresses in is racing suit and boots puts his gloves on and walks out to the Degarrioi car....climbs in and places his crash helmet on. As Harry, straps him in. pulling the straps tight, placing his foot on Michael's shoulder and giving an extra tug..."You enjoy that don't you Harry?" Michael says as the corners of his eyes wrinkle a bit as he smiles. "You bet I do boss." Harry says with a smile. "Besides, I got my ass chewed real good by your mother after Brazil. In English, French and Sicilian. That was not a pleasant experience." Harry then connects the radio communications wire, says something softly to him over the headset and taps the top of his helmet. Harry takes the gum from his own mouth and places it on the top of the air intake cowling, then motions for the crew to push the car to the starting line grid. There they wait for the instructions to start their engine.....

Michael sat quietly , staring straight ahead, in the race car thirteen on the starting grid, slowly flexing his gloved fingers, as he mentally ran the course thru the narrow winding streets along the harbor of Monte Carlo on the French Riviera. ( oO , A short acceleration period to the right hand turn, VIRAGE ST. DEVOTE, this is the most dangerous
part of the Monaco Circuit and over the years many spectacular accidents have
occurred on this the first bend. Curiously enough this is one of the few bends with
a 'run-off' area, if you do have to go straight in here it should be survivable, Accelerate up the hill from St. Devote into Casino Square is the first chance to go up through the gears, being cautious as the road can be bumpy and those white traffic lines are very slippery. Out accelerating someone at the start of the hill is a possibility. But further up the race line is much too close to the barriers. Slow down for the tight left and then right through Casino Square and accelerate down the hill past the HOTEL METROPOLE. Keeping tight to the right. To the HOTEL MIRABEAU this is a favorite spot for out-braking if a you leave a gap. If the corner is missed, there is a run-off area ....... try not to miss it Michael. Downward thru the gears is the 30mph hairpin at the MONTE CARLO GRAND HOTEL and the sharp right past the fountains
and into the VIRAGE DU PORTIER. Darkness falls around as you enter the tunnel, about 40 seconds into the race if everything has gone correctly, and its time to open up and follow the sweeping curve of the tunnel. This is another opportunity to out-accelerate the car in front if he leaves room. Breaking back into the sun in 6th gear. This the is the one of the fastest sections of the course to drive. Keep the correct line, slow down into the chicane or you might lose a place or two. The tight left-right of the chicane leads into a short straight and then the swimming pool complex. Keeping the right line and there should be
no problems here or at the hairpin of VIRAGE RASCASSE. A bad line or trying too hard will finish race very quickly against the unforgiving track side barriers. ........ Slightly uphill now into the very nasty right of VIRAGE ANTHONY NOGHES, still on track its full speed ahead climb up through the gears to complete the first lap oO ) A gaggle of reporters, photographers, film and video crews, race officials, dignitaries. mechanics, race crew and special guest surrounds the racers.

Michael glances up at the darkening skies and frowns slightly. He returns to his thoughts as two of the race crew, in anticipation of the start, gathers two fire extinguishers. Then a few rain drops splatter off Michael’s helmet, a few more fall as the rain begins to pick up. Harry positions an umbrella over Michael and the cockpit, as the crew cover the air intake and engine canopy with a blue plastic tarp. “Just a little squall, should be over in just a few seconds.” Michael hears Harry’s calming voice over the communication link in his helmet. Michael looks out from beneath the umbrella, as spectators, news commentators, film and video crews run for shelter from the rain. “

“Right Harry, what ever you say. ........... I love driving 250 miles an hour thru these narrow winding streets in the rain. .......... What better way to spend and afternoon?” Michael said nonchalantly with a grin. ....... “You guys did remember to pack the SCUBA gear in the trunk didn’t you?..... I have told you to install wiper blades on my visor for years". .. after about ten seconds "Harry .... you might want to tell those people that.” Michael says over the communications link, and jerks his thumb towards the retreating gaggle.

Jessie heard Michael milling around first thing in the morning but she didn’t bother to get up and go out to talk to him. She understood he needed to maintain his cover of the race car driver but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Things were dangerous for them all already, why did he feel the need to increase that risk by driving a piece of plastic over 200 miles per hour on a winding track? With others looking to take his spot, no doubt. It just didn’t make any sense to her.

She rolled over and tried to get some more sleep but it was useless so she finally got up, put on some workout clothes, made her way to the kitchen and started some coffee for Wayland and Darius for when they finally rolled out of the sack.

Whatever frustrations Jessie carried with her were quickly worked out of her by using the weighted punching bag as her intended target. Several times her fists, elbows, knees and feet connected with the bag over and over again. Before long, she worked up quite a sweat. It was towards the end of her workout that she heard the door to the cottage open then shut followed by the door of a vehicle and that same vehicle starting up. Holding the bag to keep it from moving, she walked over to the window and saw the blond head of Wayland behind the driver’s seat.

Furrowing her brows, she gathered up her towel and wiped her face off then walked out to find out what was going on. Darius was sitting at the bar in the kitchen sipping his coffee with a rather sour look on his face and she couldn’t help but frown even more.

”Where’s he going?”

Darius didn’t even look at her.

“Apparently HQ thinks he would be more help on another assignment right now. And that’s not the good news right now.”

Jessie had walked over to the window and watched the car disappear with Wayland in it. Without turning she spoke to Darius.

”Oh? There’s more good news?”

“They’ve reassigned me as well.”

Jessie turned to look at the man then. Darius was looking at her as well and the look that passed between them spoke volumes. They wouldn’t reassign key members of an operation unless they were getting ready to snuff out one of their own. It was the unwritten rule they never discussed but everyone knew it.

”So that just leaves Michael and myself?”

“Seems so.”

Jessie was liking this less and less now.

”Full of good news this morning indeed.”

She walked over to the refrigerator and poured a glass of juice then turned to look at Darius again as she drank some of it.

”Michael and I will do fine. We always have and we always will. This won’t be any different than anything we’ve handled in the past.”

Darius half chuckled and got a crooked grin on his face.

“Ever the optimist, huh Jess?”

Jessie shrugged her shoulders.

”Someone has to be.”

Darius finished his coffee then got up and walked the cup to the sink. Setting it down inside, he walked past Jess then stopped and turned his head to look at her.

”You know how to find me if things go south.”

Jess nodded.

”Yeah. Now get going. Don’t wanna take longer than necessary lest you raise suspicion and find yourself on the opposite end.”

Another crooked smile and Darius nodded as well. Jess watched him until he turned the corner of his bedroom then she finished her juice and set the glass in the sink as well. Walking to her room, she closed and locked the door behind her then quickly gathered her things. Packing lightly, she filled her traveling bag with only the clothes she knew she would need knowing everything else would be in the hotel Michael set up for her.

Pulling out her duffle bag from beneath the bed, she double checked her weapons, made sure some of them were loaded and made sure she had ammo for the rest. Kneeling at the floor of her closet, she pulled out a hidden panel in the back near the corner and reached inside. The fireproof box was dusty but still intact. Using a key from her car key ring she opened it then shifted through the things inside and pulled out a passport and opened it.

The picture was her but the name was “Jennifer Driscol” and it stated she was a United States Citizen employed by Degarrio Enterprises LLC. Several stamps were already on her passport as visits to other countries. Tucking that into her traveling bag, she quickly retrieved another cell phone from the boxand tossed it into her bag as well, closed and locked the box, put it back in its hiding spot, returned the panel to normal and closed the closet.

Getting her gun from under her pillow, she double checked its firing readiness then looked towards the door of her room before she ducked into the bathroom for a much needed shower. A little while later she was dressed and ready to go. Gathering up her bags, she unlocked her door then racked it open to look around. Not seeing or hearing anything, she opened the door entirely then slipped through the cottage as quietly as she could. Glancing around she noticed Darius had already left leaving her alone in the place.

Walking around and checking all directions of the cottage, she carefully observed the landscape. When nothing caught her eye, she walked to the back of the cottage opened the door and put her bags into the back seat of her car, making sure the duffle bag of weapons was in the floor of the passenger side back seat.

With one m ore look around, she got behind the wheel and headed for the hotel. On her way from the cottage, she received a phone call on her cell. Seeing the number was blocked, she knew what the call was. As soon as she pressed “accept” she heard the voice on the other end. After listening to what the voice said, she confirmed she heard the message.

”Assignment received.”

She hung the phone up and drove down the deserted road a little further before coming to a place where there was a steep drop off. Rolling the window down, she flung the cell phone out the window and let it crash a good ways down the embankment. The rest of the trip to the hotel was one of the tensest trips she’d ever made. Constantly looking in her mirror and in all other directions, she finally made her way to the hotel and handed the keys to the valet after she got her bags out of the car. As the one boy tried to reach for her duffle bag, she quickly intercepted him, gave him a pretty smile and took the bag from him.

”That’s alright. It’s not very heavy and I can get it. You just make sure my car doesn’t get scratched and I’ll make sure it was well worth your time.”

The kid was more than happy to oblige and she handed him a one hundred dollar bill to show she was true to her word. As she walked in she made sure she knew where all the exits close by were located then checked in.

”Oh say, where can I pick up a battery for my cell phone? Mines completely worn out and it won’t hold a charge anymore.”

“Of course. Just down the street a few blocks down. I can have one sent over for you if you’d like.”

Jess smiled and nodded.

”That would be perfect. It’s a Droid 2 by Motorola. Oh…and throw in an additional charger for me. One for AC and one for twelve volt.”

The Concierge smiled and nodded.

“I’ll have it brought to your room, Ms, Driscol.”

Jess smiled again.

”Oh that won’t be necessary. Just ring and I’ll be down to get it before I go meet my boss. Thanks again.”

Quickly turning and making her way towards the elevator, she saw a man and walked into him.

”Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. I should be more careful of where I’m going. I apologize.”

The man, a maintenance man, smiled and quickly helped steady her. He didn’t look all that pleased she’d bumped into him but he tried to smile all the same.

“No problem, Miss. Just be a little more careful next time.”

”Thanks! I will!”

As he walked away, she tucked the master key card into her jacket pocket. When she reached the elevator, she hit the button for the fourth floor then stepped out and took the stairs to the sixth floor. As she made her way up the stairs, she paid close attention to the stairwell. When she reached the fourth floor, she peered through the window of the stair door and saw a cleaning lady at a cart getting something. Ducking and moving up the steps to the sixth floor, she peered into the hallway and saw nothing. Slowly easing the door open, she looked around some more and after a few seconds knew the hallway was empty.

Looking around again, she stepped up to a door and listened for any noise from the other side. When she heard nothing, she quickly used the card and accessed the room. Stepping inside, she looked around then stashed her duffle bag and traveling bag under the bed. Walking back out of the room, she opened the door, peered into the hallway and when the coast was clear, she stepped outside and closed the door quietly behind her. Making not of room 632, she made her way down the hall to the elevator then pressed the up button.

As the elevator reached the sixth floor, the doors opened and she stepped inside. Taking the key card the Concierge gave her and passing it over the sensor, she then pressed the P button on the keypad and rode the elevator to the top floor of the hotel.

Once there, she double checked the room to make sure it was empty. Seeing Michael’s things strewn about, she walked to the other side of the suite and opened the door to her bedroom. Once inside, she stripped and dressed into a pair of dark blue jeans, a white t-shirt with Michael’s race team on it and a brown leather jacket. Tucking her 9 into the ankle holster, she pulled the leg of her jeans down over it.

Picking up the key card given to her, she calls the elevator back up to the floor then rides it all the way down to the lobby. As she walked out of the elevator, the maintenance man walked by and nodded stiffly then brushed on past. She nodded as well then walked to the Concierge desk where the man was on the phone and quickly hung up.

“AH…Ms. Driscol. There you are. We have the items you ordered. Should I bill them to Mr. Degarrio’s account?”

Jess smiled and nodded.

”Thank you and yes. That will be fine. I’m on my way to the track now so I’ll let Michael know of the additional charge.”

Taking the items form the man he smiled and nodded.

“Very well. Have a good time at the races. Although it seems as though it’s going to rain anytime.”

Jess laughed softly.

”That won’t stop those boys.”

As she walked out, the boy quickly retrieved her car, she tipped him nicely, smiled pretty then drove off headed for the race track. As she drove, she swapped put the new battery in her phone and plugged the charger in. Once she had the thing powered up, she set it in the cradle and once more made a tense drive to the racetrack. Once there she was shown to the VIP parking and escorted to the track where she retrieved her pit pass and made her way towards Michael’s pit.

Tha rain had just started falling when she arrived and one of the crew men handed her a rain poncho. She quickly slipped it over her head and ducked under the canopy of the pit box. She could see Michael sitting all strapped into the car and waiting for the call to start his engine when he finally looked over and saw her and her alone standing there. There was a moment when their eyes met and he could see by the look in hers something wasn’t quite right but she quickly blinked it away and she smiled all the same and nodded.

What she DIDN’T do was give him a thumbs up. It was the code the two had for letting each other know everything was good to go as far as the other knew. Whatever was going on Jess wasn’t happy with it and by the lack of a signal she was letting Michael know it as well. And being in France didn’t help matters much. There were too many unknown variables to deal with in this country. And Jess hated that.

For an additional fifteen, Michael sits and waits in his thirteenth place starting position as the rain finally stops. Harry removes the umbrella and the crew remove the tarps and dry down the car with towels. Michael glances over, sees Jessica, they make brief eye contact and through years of working together, Michael can read that all is not well in her eyes. He pushes the thought from his mind, turns his eyes forward, reaches up and flips the visor on his helmet, down as the Crown Prince of Monaco steps up to the microphone and says, in English with a heavy French accent:

"GENTLEMEN START YOUR ENGINES"

Michael's crew members stand with fire extinguishers ready, the crews start the engines and they roar to life. Michael revs the engine up and checks
the gauges.. checks the radio... and revs the engine. Flexes his
fingers on the steering wheel and settles in... the course running
in his mind....looks back at the starting podium. As the pace car begins to roll, Michael follows the pace car around the race course on the streets of Monaco, swerving left and right on the short straight always to heat up the tires.

The pace car turns off onto pit row, green flag drops and the lights flash to
green as he smashes the accelerator to the floor, a short acceleration period
is rapidly followed by a struggle for position as everyone tries to negotiate the
right hand VIRAGE ST. DEVOTE for the first time. This is the most dangerous part of the Monaco Circuit and over the years many spectacular accidents have occurred on this the first bend. Curiously enough this is one of the few bends with a 'run-off' area. Accelerating up the hill from St. Devote into Casino Square is Michael’s first chance to go up through the gears, being cautious as the road can be bumpy and those white traffic lines are very slippery. Out accelerating someone at the start of the hill is a possibility but further up the race line is much too close to the barriers.
Michael slows down for the tight left and then right through Casino Square and accelerates down the hill past the HOTEL METROPOLE. Keeping tight to the right as he approaches the HOTEL MIRABEAU this is a favorite spot for out-braking if he leaves a gap. Shifting forever downward as he takes the 30mph hairpin at the MONTE CARLO GRAND HOTEL and the sharp right past the fountains and into the VIRAGE DU PORTIER. Darkness falls as he enters the tunnel, he is about 40 seconds into the race and its time to open up and follow the sweeping curve of the tunnel at 185mph. This is another opportunity to out-accelerate the car in front if
he leaves room. Breaking back into the sun in 6th at 187 mph, the
fastest he will drive on the first lap. Once again Michael keeps the correct line as he downshifts and slows down into the chicane, if he does not, he might lose a place or two. The tight left-right of the chicane leads into a short straight and then the swimming pool complex. Keeping the right line and he should have no problems here or at the hairpin of VIRAGE RASCASSE. A bad line or trying too hard will finish his race very quickly against the unforgiving track side barriers.
Slightly uphill now into the very nasty right of VIRAGE ANTHONY
NOGHES, still on track its full speed ahead as he climb up through the gears to complete the first lap.

"Only 77 more laps to go", he tells Harry over the radio.