The Flight Attendant

Chapter Two

Her next assignment was in the city itself. She got her notice and met John at one of the designated cafes. It changed every time. She had insisted her contact be fairly good looking. It wasn't because she was stuck up. It was because she didn't want the people in the café wondering why she was with an average looking man. She thought it would attract too much attention. They had settled on "John", not his real name. He was a forty something blonde man. He was good looking, and Aya had caught herself wondering what it would be like fucking him a couple of times. He is a field agent and had been in Berlin with the other assignment.

John came into the café a few minutes after she had. He sat down at the table.

"Hey, sweetie. How's your day going?"

"Okay so far, dear." They had decided to play a couple since they would be meeting more than once.

John handed her a small box. "I got you a present. I know our anniversary isn't for several weeks, but I saw this and had to get it for you."

She opened the box. There was a small pendant inside. "It's lovely, John. Thank you."

She got up and leaned down to kiss him. "Help me put it on." He stood up and fastened the pendant around her neck. They had lunch and kissed as they departed. "See you tonight, dear."

When she was back in her apartment, she opened the pendant and took a small chip out. She inserted it into a reader and put it in her computer.

One of the many supervisors from the CIA appeared on her screen.

"Good evening, Aya. We have a special assignment for you. This week the United Nations are in session. Diplomats and their staffs from all over the world are here. The French diplomat has a special guest, your old friend Andre. We need him to be "distracted" while we do our business. We will send you his hotel and all the information you will need to "run into him by accident." The information you retrieved has been very helpful, but we need to get to the next step. Good luck."

The screen went dark. No, she didn't like this at all. She doesn't do repeats. The risks are too high. He was a little drunk last time. He won't be now, and he will be suspicious if she just "runs" into him by accident. She doesn't think she could fool him again with the brunette wig. Besides, she must cut her hair short to fit under it. She knows taking chances is part of the job, but not stupid ones.

She used her emergency contact method to request a meeting. The next day, John came to her apartment. They are "together" after all.

"What's the problem?"

"I don't do repeats. I will never be able to fool him with the brunette wig again. He won't be drunk, and he will never buy that I just "happened" by him in a city with millions of people. You know the kind of man he is, what he is capable of. His security will kill me without thinking twice. Besides, Celia Dumas doesn't work for Virgin. They wouldn't know who she is."

"We know all of that. We also know he has tried to find you by contacting Virgin. He is smitten. We had Celia Dumas put in Virgin's database, just in case. This isn't our first rodeo. We just need him to not be thinking clearly for one day. One day that we need to get to the man he is meeting while in New York. We don't know who it is. We need you to find out who he is. He is meeting with this man sometime in the next two days. We are going to have our Virgin contact answer his inquires and give him your phone number. Here is the phone. Remember, Celia Dumas. We are setting up an apartment for Celia. It will be monitored. Try to get him there. We will be watching."

"Great. So, you want to watch me fuck him, is that it?"

"We want you to help us find out the man he is meeting. If that is what it takes, that is what it takes. It's not like we haven't watched you at work before." She couldn't argue with that. She didn't really care, she just wanted them to think she did.

"I will need to get into Celia's apartment as soon as I can. I will need to act like I know where everything is."

"Here is the address. There are already clothes there for you. We even put up some fake pictures of your "family" and friends. The refrigerator is stocked. After you have settled in, we will give him the number. You are not scheduled to fly for the next week. Remember, we are watching. If you need us, talk about your family from Le Mans. Le Mans will be the code for come running. Understand?"

"Yes, I understand. So, let me go see where Celia lives." John left and Aya headed for her new "temporary" home.

It was in a nice part of New York. Of course, it had to be for Andre to be impressed. Right on Central Park. She had to admit, whoever did the shopping knew fine clothes when they saw them. She would have to remember to "liberate" some of these suits when they were finished.

Andre called the next day. John hadn't waited long for her to "acclimate" herself to her new home.

"Celia, I hope this isn't too big a shock, or that I am bothering you by calling you. I happen to be in New York, and I thought I would look you up."

Aya smiled to herself. "Andre, right, from Paris?" She wanted to put a little doubt in him.

"Was I that forgettable?"

"No, not at all. If fact, I've gotten to sleep several nights by reliving our one night in Paris. I was just wondering how you "looked me up" in a city of ten million or more people?"

"I have contacts at Virgin. They gave me your phone number. I hope you don't mind."

Ok-ay. Time to let him off the hook. "No, of course I don't. Maybe we can make a few new memories while you are here." That ought to do it.

"When can we meet?"

"I'm free. I have a week's vacation that I started a couple of days ago."

"How about I pick you up and we can go to dinner tonight?"

"How about we meet at Delmonico's on Fifth Avenue. We can see what happens from there."

He agreed and they set a date for that night at eight. He said he would make a reservation, and she wanted to see what strings he could pull to actually get one on the same day.

While getting ready, she made a decision the company may not like. She decided to not wear the wig but show him her real hair. She didn't want to cut her hair, and it could be easily explained. At least she hoped it could.

She arrived at 7:45 to see when he arrived. However, he was already there. When he saw her, he didn't recognize her with the black hair until she walked up to him.

She kissed him on the cheek, "Do you like my real hair color?"

He looked confused, so she continued. "I sometimes wear a wig on a few flights just to break things up. I just never took it off while with you. But I don't want to pretend with you, so here I am, in all my darker glory."

Andre smiled, "It makes you look even more exotic. You look even more beautiful than I remember. Our table should be ready by now."

Sure enough, the manager came as soon as Andre looked at him and took them to a private room in the back. This guy really had connections.

He started apologizing for the room until she finally stopped him. "This is perfect. Thank you for taking the trouble to do this. We could have eaten at your hotel, or anywhere would have been okay with me."

He smiled and relaxed at that. They had a wonderful dinner and a couple of bottles of very nice wine over the next two hours. When the time came to leave, Aya decided she might as well take him home. The company wanted to watch, let's let them watch.

"How about we go to my place? It's close here. We can walk."

Andre smiled, took her arm in his, and out the door they went. "Lead on, my lady." Security followed at a discreet distance.

They walked down the street to Central Park and walked up to her building. She had to be careful to find it correctly. She had only walked there once before. They went up the elevator to her apartment. She went into her bedroom and called out over her shoulder. "Make yourself comfortable. There is wine and beer in the fridge."

She went and put a nice almost nightie on. It wasn't too inappropriate, but it did leave very little to the imagination. When she returned, he had his coat and tie off, his shoes on the floor and was drinking a beer. He stopped in mid-drink when she came out of the bedroom. "Oh my God, you are even more beautiful as a raven-haired beauty."

She smiled, took a beer out of the fridge, and sat down beside him. After a couple of minutes, she got up and sat on his lap. Whatever restraint he was trying to maintain evaporated the minute she sat on his lap. He began rubbing her shoulders, breasts, and ass softly as he kissed her. If the boys wanted a show, she was going to give them one. They had left his only bodyguard in the hall at her door. He was forgotten. He put his hand under her nightie and massaged her breasts. She put her head on his shoulder and purred quietly. This was a guaranteed winner. She reached up and bit his ear. It made him put his hand between her legs. She spread them to give him room to roam. He quickly obliged.

It was now time to change venues. She stood up, took his hand, and headed for the bedroom. He followed. Once inside, he quickly stripped naked and untied her nightie. She slipped it off and he picked her up and laid her on the bed. This time he knelt between her legs and proceeded to work her over for ten minutes. It was great. A strange thought floated through her mind at that moment of how the boys were getting on. She almost wanted to shout, Le Mans just to see them jump up and come running. However, she didn't want Andre to stop at the moment, so she just let him please her. A quick orgasm later, she pushed him down and climbed aboard. It was time to ride him to a conclusion. She kept her eyes on his as she rode him. She could tell it wasn't going to take long at this rate. That was fine with her. Let's get him sleepy. Maybe he would talk before he nodded off or talk in his sleep. She didn't have to stay awake for that. That was the boy's problem. He exploded and she stopped rocking and clamped down on his member with her vaginal walls. She had squeezed the life out of many a dick in her day, and he was no different. As he settled down, she laid down on his chest, and they caught their breath together. Within a few minutes, he was asleep. She rolled off him and went into the bathroom. She came back a few minutes later and lay beside him and fell asleep.

She awoke with him on his elbow looking at her. "Don't look at me. I'm a mess first thing in the morning."

"Don't be silly. You're as beautiful as ever this morning. You have a glow about you."

He bent down and kissed her. She pulled him on top of her and they repeated the process in the opposite direction from last night.

Later that morning, they had both showered and she had made him breakfast. He had called his security, and they were still at the door.

Time for a little work. "So, did you come to New York just to find me?"

"No, I am here for the United Nations assembly. I am meeting with the French ambassador this morning."

"Wow, that is impressive. Do you get to attend the assembly gathering?"

"No, just a meeting with him and few other businesspeople from France and America."

"Well, I had better let you get going so you can spruce up a little before you meet them. We can't have you looking like this, can we?" He was sitting at the breakfast table in his shorts.

"I guess we probably shouldn't." He got dressed and left with his security.

Aya "Celia" figured John, and the boys would be able to figure out who in the meeting was the person they were interested in.

They had a team of agents following him around the clock. They had three people at the UN watching him as he met with the ambassador from France. They were watching him as he left for his meeting. He went into an office building downtown. The building had twenty floors. The building had a good security system. They had cameras in every elevator, stair well, and lobby. Within minutes of them finding out which building he was entering; they had a team in the basement tapping into it. They wanted to know who came out of that floor after Andre leaves. They tapped both elevators, sending the signal to the truck sitting outside. Andre went to the twentieth floor. There was only one company on that floor. Henderson and Henderson. They are a large law firm specializing in international law. They represented many of the countries in the UN. They were not worried about security for a building like this one. Security would not notice their tap in time before they could remove it. They should have a picture of everyone who enters the elevator from the twentieth floor. One hour later, Andre and his team entered one of the elevators and descended. A few minutes later, a group of men entered the second elevator and descended. By the time they got to the ground floor, the CIA had each one's picture. They removed their taps and left the building.

Aya had gone home and relaxed. She knew she would hear from him again.

John called the next morning to set up another lunch. They met around eleven at one of the designated meeting cafes.

John sat down. "We know who he met with. His name is Cirrus Massoud. Massoud is a freelance Iranian. He doesn't represent the Iranian government, nor does he have any official position in Iran. He is a low-level Iranian that has been watched for years. So far, he has done nothing to warrant anything but suspicion."

"Why are you telling me this? You know I don't get involved in agency investigations. I am Mata Hari. You want me to seduce this guy?"

"It might work. He certainly isn't very orthodox. But that might be later. He is a middleman for several Iranian players in their war against Isreal. We are running a list of the players to see which he has contacted recently."

"Again, why? Will you get to me. You know I don't give a shit about politics."

John put his head down. Aya could tell there was something he didn't want to say.

"Spit it out."

"If Andre is meeting with any Iranians, that means he is assisting their cause against Isreal. This will be very dangerous for everyone around him. If he contacts you again, we are advising you to stay away from him until this thing plays out."

Now she saw what he was trying to say. If they must kill Andre, anyone around him will be in the line of fire. They wouldn't be able to protect her if the bullets started flying. The Israelis are not known for their patience.

"We don't know how much the Israelis know. Just stay away from him."

They finished lunch and split. Aya wasn't worried. She had no intention of ever seeing Andre again. Twice already had broken her cardinal rule.

The next few days went by peacefully. She spent a couple of days of her vacation in a nice little cabin in Maine. She had even met a forest ranger with a big heart and a bigger dick. She liked practicing her craft. It was a fun two days in the woods.

She went back to flying. She really enjoyed flying. It was the idea of being free. Being able to be in New York in the morning, and Paris in the next day.

Her next flight took her to Vienna, Austria. She liked Vienna. It had old world charm with new world amenities. She wasn't even thinking about the agency since she wasn't there for them. Which made her nervous when she got the coded text that told her she was on. She went to her hotel for messages. She knew there wouldn't be, but someone would contact her somehow. Sure enough, as she left the desk, a little man bumped into her.

"Pardon, miss. I am so clumsy."

"Nothing to worry about, sir." After he was gone, she went to her room to read the note he had put in her pocket.

Our friend Cirrus Massoud just arrived in Vienna unexpectedly. He is staying in a little run-down hotel, The Venetian Peasant, on Vesust Steet. We need you to go to the bar there tonight and see if you can get close to him. Here is a picture of him. If you are able to get close enough to him, try and stick this little bug on his jacket. We want to see if he is here to meet one of the larger players. We need to know who that is. Stay until someone talks to him and get out. We will be around. John

Shit. She didn't like work being dumped on her, unexpectedly. Especially when it is dangerous. She doesn't want to be around any terrorists.

At 7 P.M. she was sitting at the bar. She had dressed like a lonely French tourist. A little plain, with a long black wig. Her makeup was plain. Everything about her said, simple little French tourist. She didn't want to be remembered after she left. She recognized Massoud the minute he came into the room. He was nervous and looked around the room suspiciously. There were only two old men and a couple sitting at a table besides her. He finally walked over to the bar and sat down one stool away from her.

After he had ordered his drink, he lit up a cigarette, and asked in English, "You are staying at this hotel?"

She looked at him nervously, and answered in French, "Pardon?"

He smiled, "French, huh?" She nodded. In French he said, "Here for a little vacation?" She nodded. She looked down. He reached over and put his hand on her hand and smiled. She looked up at him and reached out to straighten his collar. While there, she put the bug in place.

He smiled, "Merci." He was just about to say something else when two men came into the bar and walked up to him.

One of them spoke roughly, "Who's the girl?" In English.

"Nobody, just sitting here, waiting. She only speaks French."

"Lose her." Massoud waved her away. She nodded and hurried out of the bar. By the time she had turned the corner the wig and coat were gone. She looked like any entirely different person now. She caught a cab at a little restaurant a block away and headed back near her hotel. She walked the last three blocks.

She took her flight back to New York the next day. She doesn't usually find out anything about the jobs she does. She likes it that way. They are just people passing in the night. She doesn't care about the details.

She flew to London on her next flight. It was uneventful. There was a semi-famous singer in first class on the return flight. He was cute. She thought she might have heard of one of his songs. She looked him up in the galley and listened to it again. You must be prepared when in first class.

His name was Maynard Tull, and he was a cross between grunge and pop. She made a point when she brought him his champagne to ask if he was he. It always makes them think they are special and makes the flight so much easier. The only problem with that is, if he is single, or wants to be, he might spend the rest of the flight trying to get in her shorts. She has even taken a couple of guys home if she was bored. Fortunately for her, he was flattered, but non-committal. A perfect flight.

The next morning, as she was running errands, her phone rang. She looked at the number, and shuttered. It was Andre. She considered not answering it, but she knew he would just call back.

"Why, Andre. What a pleasant surprise. You in New York again?"

"No, my sweet. I'm in Paris, in boring meetings with boring people. My mind just drifted, and you kept interrupting my business thoughts. I finally had to call you to get you out of my mind."

"Talking to someone is a strange way to get them off your mind."

"Not if it was to invite them to spend a few days with me in the country. I have a little place outside of Paris. I think you would find it most comfortable."

This was the last thing she wanted. A secluded place where the Israelis, or the agency, or the Iranians could get to him. And if she was an innocent bystander in the line of fire, her name wouldn't even make the papers.

"Andre, that is so sweet. How soon do you want to do this?"

"I can have my plane in New York tonight if you are willing to come for a few days."