Cold Wars And Hot Glances Pt 01

Chapter One: The Paris Encounter

---

Paris was at its most intoxicating in the summer evenings, when the setting sun bathed the city's winding streets with a golden light. The warm air was heavy with the scent of cigarettes, wine, and opportunities. CIA Agent Samantha "Sam" Richards relished these Human Intelligence (HUMINT) gathering assignments by the Directorate of Operations, as if she were a cat relishing the chase with a mouse. She sat at the cocktail bar of the opulent Hotel Lutetia, scanning her blue eyes across the leather seats of the bar as she slowly sipped her French 75 and pretended to be a ditzy, well-to-do American tourist.

An international economic summit had brought together an eclectic mix of diplomats, economists, financial elites, and political power brokers, all cloaked in the grandeur of a city that reveled in its own sense of history. But for Richards, the leisure class were just noise in the background. She was on a mission to infiltrate the evening soiree and gather HUMINT on Edouard Durand: the French investment banker with concerning ties to Chinese government officials. She narrowed her eyes on the prize - documents in an encrypted tablet that Durand brought with him.

For now, her role was simple: blend in, smile at the right people, ask seemingly harmless questions. She was good at this game. Too good, perhaps, since it was the only life she'd ever known after graduating. She took another sip of her gin and champagne, her eyes narrowing as she spotted her target across the room, deep in conversation with a group of African Union delegates. Durand was mid-fifties, balding, with a predatory sort of charm--dangerous, yes, but not smart enough to know how many people had their eyes on him.

It would be easy to approach him, spin a conversation, and slip out of the party with everything she needed. But as she made her way through the crowd, her instincts--those finely honed instincts--pricked at the back of her neck.

Someone was watching her.

Richards smoothly navigated through the chattering elites, her steps slow and deliberate as she inched closer to Durand. Her eyes briefly flitted over the delegation, noting the stiff posture of their aides and the careful glances they exchanged. No surprises there. What caught her attention was the Chinese man standing just behind Durand--tall, with a sharp jawline, neatly combed obsidian hair, and dark, calculating eyes.

He didn't quite fit the profile of a banker. Too sharp, too composed. Dressed impeccably in a charcoal-gray suit, his stance was relaxed, but there was something in the way he scanned the room that felt...familiar. Like her, he was hunting.

Their eyes locked.

Just for a second, but it was enough. There was an unspoken recognition--both of them knew they weren't like the others mingling here. His gaze lingered a moment longer than it should have. For the briefest second, the corner of his lips twitched and his eyes glinted, as though he'd found something amusing.

Richards felt the prickle at the back of her neck intensify. She tore her eyes away and continued walking toward Durand, but her senses were on high alert. She could feel the man's eyes on her even as she approached her target.

She sidled up next to Durand, her expression the picture of playful innocence as she brushed her tousled blonde hair from her cheek. "Oh my God, Edouard Durand?" she exclaimed with just the right amount of breathless excitement, flashing a brilliant smile. "You won't remember me, but I'm sure we met last year at the Montreux Symposium. I remember you being absolutely fascinating--something about the Shanghai Stock Exchange?"

Durand, ever the predator, turned to her, his eyes flicking over her as he smiled indulgently. "I'm afraid I don't recall," he said, though the predatory glint in his eyes showed he was more than willing to play along. "But I'd be happy for you to refresh my memory."

As Richards leaned in, making polite conversation, she could still feel the man's gaze--cool and steady, like he was waiting for her to make a mistake. She'd done enough surveillance to know when she was being observed, and this wasn't some casual onlooker. No, this was a professional.

She flicked her eyes back toward him, just for a heartbeat. He was closer now, mingling with the crowd, but still watching her--watching them.

Richards' stomach twisted with something unfamiliar. It wasn't fear, but anticipation. Excitement.

"Well, Mr. Durand, thank you for your WhatsApp" she said, her smile never faltering, "I'd love to discuss China more in depth, but I have to mingle a bit before they think I'm monopolizing you. I'll catch you later?"

"Of course," Durand replied, his eyes following her as she drifted away.

She retreated toward the bar, every step measured, her mind racing. Who was this man? And why did she feel like she'd just walked into a game she wasn't entirely in control of?

The air shifted, and suddenly, he was next to her. The mysterious man from before, close enough that she could catch the faint scent of his cologne--something woodsy: subtle, but commanding.

"I think you might have the wrong drink for this crowd," he murmured, his voice low and velvety, a hint of an unplaceable accent in his English. He gestured to her French 75. "It's a little too American, don't you think?"

She turned to face him, her smile calm but her pulse racing. "Funny, I was about to say the same thing about your suit," she replied smoothly. "It's a little too sharp for a banker."

He chuckled softly, his eyes dark with amusement. "Well, appearances can be deceiving."

She arched an eyebrow. "So can people."

His smile widened just a fraction, and for a moment, the space between them felt charged, like something unspoken was happening beneath the surface. "Li Yiming," he said softly, extending his hand. "Just passing through. And you are?"

Richards didn't miss a beat. "Samantha. Just a tourist."

His hand lingered in hers for a second too long, and she could feel the static crackling between them. He leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice. "Be careful, Sam. Paris has a way of swallowing people whole."

And just like that, he was gone, slipping into the crowd as if he'd never been there.

But Richards knew she wasn't imagining it. The game had just begun.

---

Richards found herself standing before the door to Edouard Durand's penthouse suite in the Hotel Lutetia. The hotel corridor's art-deco elegance dripped with the kind of wealth Durand surrounded himself with, but for her, this was just another battlefield. She smoothed her dress, took a steadying breath, and knocked on the door.

Durand answered with a lazy grin, his speech a little slurred from too many cocktails. "Ah, Samantha," he drawled, swaying slightly. "I wasn't sure you'd come."

She gave him a dazzling smile. "I couldn't resist. I've always found power... intoxicating."

His grin widened as he stepped aside to let her in. The suite was as opulent as she expected--plush furniture and a cozy balcony with an intimate view of a courtyard where she'd lounge on to read a murder mystery if she wasn't here on business.

Richards wasted no time. She sauntered inside, her heels clicking softly on the polished floor, her gaze sweeping the room for any sign of the encrypted tablet she was here to retrieve. It didn't take long. There it was, resting innocuously on the glass coffee table.

But getting to it would require patience. And distraction.

She turned to Durand, who had already poured another drink, his eyes lingering hungrily on her. She accepted the glass of wine he offered, making sure to brush her fingers against his in a way that sent a shiver down his spine.

"To us," he said, raising his glass with a grin.

"To us," she echoed, her lips curving into a playful smile as she took a sip. She had to play this carefully, let him think he was in control, even though they both knew that wasn't the case.

Durand was talking, saying something about the summit, his accomplishments, and deals he'd closed. Richards laughed in all the right places, her fingers grazing his arm, her body language drawing him in closer. She could feel his gaze on her, heavy and expectant.

As the evening wore on, Durand's speech became slower, slurred. He was losing his edge, and she knew it was time to strike.

She moved closer, her lips dangerously close to his ear as she whispered sweet nothings, her hand trailing down his chest. His breath hitched as he leaned into her, his wine glass forgotten on the table.

She pulled tautly at the belt buckle on his trousers before tracing her hands in circles inside. Each sliding of fabric was coordinated as if she were a ballerina. When she knelt down to face the bulge of gray fabric in front of her, she pulled off his briefs in one swift motion.

Durand's cock sprang to attention in front of her, as if it were a rifle ready to fire. Richards wrapped her fingers delicately around his member and leaned in. She flicked her tongue, once, twice, before taking the head into her mouth and swirling her tongue around. She glided her tongue and mouth up and down his bulging, hard penis. Durand moaned with a lecherous satisfaction.

Richards swallowed his cock whole, wrapping her tongue alongside the underside of his penis. She began to bob her head up and down, sucking as if she could somehow procure the documents through a blowjob. She pushed her head all the way down and felt his cock reach the back of her throat, before pulling back completely and hungrily gasping for air. A string of saliva and precum briefly drooped between her lips and his cock. She went down to take his left ball into her mouth. She sucked gently, swirling her tongue, while continuing to stroke her hand up and down his penis. Durand gasped and moaned, his glutes tightening and raising his body up slightly when Richards worked her mission. Richards returned to swallow his hard dick, cupping one hand up to massage his balls. She looked up into his soul and retreated her head. With a pop, she looked at Durand and told him seductively: "I want to feel you inside of me."

Despite his inebriated state, Durand animalistic-ally got up and spun Richards around, pinning her to his bed. He quickly unfolded a condom around his penis before rushing to stick it inside. When he did, he let out a moan as he felt the warm embrace of Richards' body. Durand started to rock his hips back and forth as he pounded Richards' pussy with the force of an old bull. Richards moved her hand to her clitoris and started rubbing it, letting out moans of pleasure. Just because she was here for a job didn't mean she couldn't enjoy being on the clock.

Durand paused, panting heavily and trying to catch his breath. Smiling, Richards asked inquisitively: "Want to lie down?"

"Oui, mon cheri."

With a surprising force, she pushed Durand up and spun him 180 degrees before throwing him down onto the bed. She climbed up and knelt her knees above Richards' groin before slowly guiding his cock in. When she bottomed out, she smiled devilishly for she knew she would demonstrate her talents.

She rocked her hips back and forth, slowly but picking up the pace. Eventually she was moving so fast that the bed springs started to shake. Durand's eyes widened as he struggled to catch his breath. Richards kept her back straight as she pushed her hands against Durand's chest. She started to go harder and faster and saw that Durand was close. She slowly arched her back backwards and reached her right hand behind her back, finding Durand's tightening balls. She tickled her fingers and that was all it took.

Durand groaned as his cock twitched and pulsed with a great force. After several moments, he finished orgasming. His cheeks were flushed as if he were out in a blizzard and his face glistened with beads of sweat.

Richards waited for just the right moment. Durand, now far too deep in a blissful stupor to resist, sunk deeper into the bed, his eyes half-closed and a lazy smile on his lips. She climbed off of him, quickly slid back into her dress, and moved gracefully away from him, her mind laser-focused on the real prize.

The tablet.

She glanced over at Durand, ensuring he was too far gone to notice. He mumbled something incoherent as she slipped off the bed and made her way toward the tablet. Her heart raced, but her movements were calm, methodical. She grabbed it, quickly checking to see if it was still locked. Of course it was. But she was prepared for that.

She snuck over to her purse and pulled out a small device, before deftly back to the table and connecting it to the tablet. Within moments, it began to bypass the encryption software--an advantage of having the best tech at her disposal. She kept one eye on Durand, making sure he remained oblivious, even as her device worked its magic.

In just a few minutes, the tablet was unlocked, and the documents she needed were at her fingertips. Sensitive financial records, transaction histories, and most importantly, communications between Durand and Chinese officials that could expose the entire operation.

She downloaded everything she needed, disconnecting her device and placing the tablet back exactly where it had been before.

Durand stirred, his eyes fluttering open for a second. "Samantha...?"

She was already slipping back into her role, moving gracefully back to his side. "Shhhhh," she whispered, brushing her fingers through his hair. "Rest. You've had a long night."

Durand sighed contentedly and drifted back into his haze, none the wiser.

Richards gave him one last look, ensuring that everything was in place. Then, with a satisfied smirk, she slipped out of the room and disappeared, the documents now safely in her possession.

---

Richards stepped out of the hotel, her pulse steady despite the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. The cool night air was a welcome relief, and for a moment, she allowed herself to breathe, the thrill of success settling into her bones. Paris sparkled under the streetlights, but she couldn't afford to get comfortable yet. Not until she was far away from here.

As she started walking, her senses prickled--again. That same feeling from earlier, a presence she couldn't ignore. Someone was watching her.

She casually glanced over her shoulder. The street was quiet, the soft hum of Parisian life in the background. But there, in the shadows just beyond the reach of the lights, was a figure moving with her. He was good--very good. Most people would have missed him entirely, but not her.

Li Yiming.

Of course. His training with China's Ministry of State Security did him well.

A sly smile tugged at her lips as she quickened her pace, weaving through the narrow streets, her heels clicking against the cobblestone. She didn't run--there was no need. She knew he'd follow. She just needed to draw him out.

And he didn't disappoint.

"Leaving so soon?" His voice, low and smooth, came from behind her, sending a shiver down her spine. Richards turned to see him emerge from the shadows, his tall frame illuminated by the soft glow of a nearby lamppost. He moved with the grace of a panther, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his linen trousers, as if they were two old friends out for an evening stroll.

"Enjoying the view?" she replied, her smile not faltering as she met his dark eyes. "Or are you just that eager to follow me around?"

Li chuckled, the sound deep and warm, but there was a glint in his eye that told her he wasn't just here for idle conversation. "I'm always eager when it comes to you, Samantha," he said, his accent wrapping around her name like velvet. "Though, I have to say, your work tonight was a little... predictable."

She arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she took a step closer. "Predictable, huh? And here I thought I'd perfected the art of subtlety."

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze flicking down to her shoes and back up to her face with a smirk. "Let's just say, a woman in heels tailing a man like Durand doesn't exactly go unnoticed. Not by me, at least."

"Maybe I wasn't trying to hide," she shot back, her voice dropping just a bit lower, teasing.

Li's smile widened, the game between them clear as day. "You never do. But I have to wonder... what's the endgame here, Richards?" He took a step forward, his proximity just close enough to stir something in the pit of her stomach. "Stealing encrypted files from under Durand's nose... slipping away before he even knows what's missing. That's impressive."

She shrugged nonchalantly, even though she could feel the weight of his eyes on her. "Impressive? You make it sound like I had to try. Durand's a lightweight."

"Maybe," he agreed, his tone soft, almost intimate. "But you're not, are you?"

She didn't answer, just gave him a long, measured look. There was something about the way he said it--something in his voice that made her wonder how much he knew. More than he was letting on, that much was certain.

Richards tilted her head, her lips curving into a sly smile. "So, what now? You going to report me to your handler? Try to take me in?"

Li stepped closer, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. His eyes locked onto hers, searching, reading her like an open book. "If I wanted to stop you, I would have done it already," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But where's the fun in that?"

Her breath hitched for a split second before she regained her composure, her heart pounding in her chest. "You like to play dangerous games, Li."

His lips twitched into that half-smile she was beginning to know all too well. "So do you, Sam."

She hated how much she liked hearing her name on his lips, the way it sounded so intimate, so familiar. It was maddening, and thrilling, all at once.

"Then I guess we'll just have to see who's better at it," she said, her voice steady but her pulse racing.

Li leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Oh, I think we both know who that is," he said softly, his breath warm against her skin. "But I'll let you believe it's a competition--for now."

Richards felt the corners of her mouth twitch, but before she could respond, Li straightened, his expression cool once more. He gave her a quick, assessing glance before stepping back into the shadows, his figure disappearing into the night just as swiftly as he'd appeared.

She stood there for a moment, letting the encounter wash over her, the thrill of their verbal sparring still buzzing in her veins. She knew this wasn't the last she'd see of Li Yiming.

Not by a long shot.

---

Richards sat at a small plastic table in the dimly lit safehouse, the soft hum of her encrypted laptop the only sound breaking the silence. The safehouse, tucked away in a quiet corner of Paris, was bare--just concrete walls and a narrow window that let in a sliver of ambience from the City of Lights. She glanced at the duffel bag by the door, the satchel of nitroglycerin charges ready for whatever might come next. But first, she had a more urgent task: transmitting the files to Langley.

She inserted the encrypted flash drive into the laptop, eyes scanning the screen as the decryption program unlocked the trove of data. The financial records were extensive--hundreds of transactions tied to offshore accounts and shell companies, funneled through the Bank of China and ICBC. But the real gold lay in the encrypted messages. Directives from MSS officials were clear: Huawei's 5G installations across Europe were part of a broader plan to seize control of critical infrastructure. And worse, Durand's involvement in shipping arms disguised as infrastructure materials to Africa was now undeniable: these "materials" were waiting a train shipment in a warehouse in the industrial park exurb of Bagneaux, just outside of Paris.