The Flight Attendant

Chapter Three

"John" left his meeting with Aya very concerned. He could tell she was letting her feelings for Bardot cloud her judgement. She had never fallen for one of her marks before. Maybe letting her do a "repeat" was as bad an idea as she said it was. Now they may have to take a drastic step.

When he arrived at the office, he gathered his team together. They were an interesting bunch.

Andy Simmons. He was a tech wizard. He had tapped into the cameras at the building. He could hack almost anything.

Susan Carmody. She was the sniper of the group. She was the exact opposite of Aya. She looked very average. In fact, that was one of her strengths. No one remembers her a minute after she leaves. But she can use any weapon and was deadly as a sniper. Her training in Iraq and Afghanistan gave her the experience and it also gave her the ability to detach herself from killing anyone she needed to kill. John had to keep a tight lease on her. Her natural tendencies were to shoot first and let God sort it out.

Bob Miller. He was the "front" man. You always need someone who was slick enough to con the average person long enough to get what they needed.

Wayne "the Hulk" Wilson. At 6'4" and 250 lbs. he looked like the hulk. He was really a quiet, gentle man until the time came to not be. He hated the nickname and no one in the group had the nerve to call him by that name. However, he was commonly known as that within the company.

That was his team. Aya was considered a junior member. She was never asked to do anything except what she was good at. She never had to do any of the "dirty" work in their game. John figured, the less she knew, the less would fill her mind. He wanted her to be focused on her job, and nothing but her job.

He briefly summarized this problem and opened the floor for comments.

Andy started. "If she is determined to go thru with this, maybe I can fix her up a small bug. That way, we would at least know what is going on."

John liked the idea. He wasn't sure she would like the idea of them listening into their private conversations.

Susan was Susan. "You know me. I am ready anytime you are finished with this guy. We could do it clean and quick."

"We know your solution to everything. What we don't know is everything we need to know about him. Why is he willing to sell this information to the Iranians? Is it as simple as money? He's already rich enough. He couldn't possibly spend all the money he has now. Is it something else? The French have told us to leave him alone, and we have been told to do so. That ends that line of discussion."

Wayne had been sitting quietly. "You know, she has an in that none of us have. She is so good at reading men; I think we should give her the chance to help us. She knows the risks she is taking."

"I understand, but is she taking the risk for us, or herself? His power and money can be intoxicating. She is getting a little older. Maybe she is just tired of fucking every scumbag we trot out in front of her. Who could blame her?"

It was decided to approach her with the bug idea, and he adjourned the meeting.

When John approached her with the idea, she had some concerns.

"His security runs everyone through a screening before they let you near him. Even if I got it by the screening, I spend a fair amount of time without any clothes in which the bug could be attached. I can't make sure I leave my dress close enough all the time."

John agreed and dropped the idea.

Aya moved on to another topic. "Do you know who the man he is negotiating with? Did my trip to Vienna pay off?"

"Yes, Massoud met with Akhtar Azad Tehrani. He was one of Iran's leading spies. He is also wanted by most the western world. So much so that he has had to resort to representatives like Massoud to make his contacts in the western world."

Aya finally spoke, "And..."

"And, we believe Massoud relayed Bardot's terms."

Aya shook her head. "So, you want me to spend the week with Andre to see if Massoud shows up?"

"If you're going anyway..." John shrugged.

"If I'm going anyway. So much for me not going at all. I guess I'll call Andre and have his jet pick me up tomorrow."

It was agreed and by noon of the next day, Aya was on Andre's private jet flying to Paris. She was met at the airport by his driver. They headed out of town. She tried to follow where they were going, but wasn't sure she could find it again if she had to.

They pulled up to a magnificent, sprawling estate. It looked like one of those sixteenth century castles. She smiled. DAMN, he really does have all the money he would ever need. Why do this? He must know he is risking the Israelis or Americans finding out and stopping him.

When the car stopped, the same butler was waiting at the door. He led her to a large suite overlooking the garden.

The butler smiled. "The master requests your attendance for evening meal downstairs at six."

Aya thanked him and went in for a shower.

At six sharp she came down the stairs. The butler led her into the dining room.

She was dressed in a stunning evening dress. When he saw it, he stood up and applauded. "Perfect, my dear, perfect. I need a picture of that."

Aya blushed. "You are too kind. It is good to see you again."

Andre kissed her on the cheek and held out her chair. The meal was wonderful. Of course he has a world class chef. After dinner, they retired to one of the dens in the mansion. He brought out another classic wine and they sipped wine and caught up for a couple of hours.

He finally put his glass down, looked into her eyes, and smiled. "I'm sorry, but I can't wait any longer to enjoy your company."

Aya laughed, "You mean you haven't enjoyed our conversation to this point."

He frowned at her. "I am hurt."

She stood up and laughed, "Of course, I am teasing. I am ready also."

He stood up and picked her up off her feet and headed for the stairs. She was going to tell him he didn't have to carry her up the stairs, but he seemed determined to accomplish the feat, and it did make her heart skip a beat. This man was taking her up to his bedroom. She put her head down on his shoulder and enjoyed the ride. She looked down over the unbelievable sight of this mansion laid out before her.

If she was impressed with the sight from the stairs, she was dumbfounded when he carried her into the master bedroom. This room was nothing like his home in Paris. It was masculine, but not overpoweringly so. It was elegant, yet soft, and appealing. This room felt like a cocoon a person could crawl into and get lost forever. He laid her down on the bed and smiled.

He then pushed a button on the bedstand, and a wall slid back to reveal a floor to the ceiling glass wall the entire length of the room. "I'm sorry for the ostentatiousness of everything, but I had to completely renovate this old mansion. I decided I would add some personal touches."

"The lighted garden below is breathtaking. Is there a powder room here?"

He smiled and hit another button. A door appeared when a large painting swung open. "Like I said, a little unusual. The truth is, I didn't want to destroy the old-world beauty of this room with a traditional bathroom door. I hope you don't mind it too much."

She sat on the bed with her mouth open. She finally said. "You know, I can see where you are coming from here. This room is very traditional. I like it."

She headed for the bathroom. She had to get ready for the night and think for a second. This man is overwhelming. The measure of this man just keeps growing. Why does he have to be a terrorist?"

She had to clear her head and prepare for the night. It will be easy to make him enjoy the night. There isn't anything she needs to do, other than fuck him senseless again. She is sure that won't be a problem.

She stepped out of her gown, removed her foundation and stood in front of the mirror. She still looked great. Time to sacrifice for her country once again.

She stepped out of the bathroom in her bra and panties to find him in bed again. "We probably should find a different way to get into bed."

He looked hurt. "Why, I like this way. Come here, please. I want to remove the clothes again. I assume you left them on for me." She nodded and jumped onto the bed. He slowly removed the last of her clothes and held her closely for a couple of minutes, kissing her neck, face and finally, her lips.

She let him do as he wished. He was very gentle. He finally laid her down and began massaging her breasts. He worked his way down her stomach until he reached the promise land. He slowly pushed inside and began massaging her. She lay still as long as she could, but he was making it impossible to stay still. She began squirming and moaning. This man was GOOD. He finally stopped and climbed on top of her. He pushed inside and began a gentle thrusting. After a few minutes, he began increasing his tempo and depth. When he was balls deep and pumping every few seconds, she began moaning and knew this was going to be a short one. She can't remember the last time a man made her cum when she didn't want to, but she didn't want to stop.

She wanted him to satisfy her. She wanted to satisfy him. When she was ready, she wrapped her legs around his torso and grabbed his neck. She nearly suffocated him in her explosion. He just held on and enjoyed this woman coming unglued under his workmanship. He finally let go himself, and the force of his explosion made her scream out. When he was finished, he collapsed on top of her, and they rested for several minutes.

She finally spoke, "I must admit that was right at the top of my wish list. My God."

He laughed, "It wasn't far from the top of mine either."

They were so exhausted they simply fell asleep as they were.

When she woke up, he was not there. She looked around for him but saw a young maid standing in the doorway. "Ma-am, master said he had to go to a meeting, but we are to do whatever you wish. Would you like me to draw you a bath?"

Damn, this may be the meeting she was here to find out about, and she may have slept through it. "That would be wonderful, thank you. How about in my room, please."

"Of course, ma-am. Come to your room whenever you please." She turned and headed down the hall.

She waited about five minutes and went to her room. The maid had the bath drawn and towels laid out. "If you need anything else, ma-am, just call. If you need your back washed, I could do that." She smiled and stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door. Aya figured she was staying in the room in case she called for her. Aya was proud of her body, but she had no intention of showing it to a strange maid on her first day.

She soaked for twenty minutes. It was wonderful. The water temperature was perfect. I guess she had drawn a few baths in her day. She got out, dried off and wrapped herself in a towel. She opened the door to find the maid sitting in a chair by the door. Aya decided to take advantage of her. "What is your name, please?"

"My name is Maria, ma-am."

"Well, Maria, could you comb my hair out for me?"

"Yes, ma-am, I would be glad to." She took the brush and began brushing Aya's hair. Aya closed her eyes and enjoyed the massage of her head. The maid also rubbed her neck when she was finished with the brush. All in all, a wonderful experience.

"Thank you, Maria. That was wonderful."

The maid smiled. "Breakfast is downstairs whenever you want it."

"Please tell them I will be down in fifteen minutes."

"Yes ma-am." She turned and left. Aya could be talked into this lifestyle. She had to shake herself to remember who the maid's boss was in reality. The cold truth snapped her out if, and she headed downstairs for breakfast.

He returned by the time she finished with breakfast. He told her to dress comfortably. He had a day planned for her. And did he. They went to the Eifel Tower. They had a room to themselves at the top that she didn't even know existed.

For the next couple of days, nothing happened the CIA would care about but were unbelievable for her. She spent the day on a private tour of the Louvre and the night trying to outdo Andre in bed. He took her to whichever museum she wanted to see. It was always a private tour. Three days of seeing more of Paris than she had seen in all the times she had flown there.

The fourth day was different. As they were talking at breakfast, trying to decide what she wanted to do that day, Andre got a phone call. "I'm sorry, my dear. I must take this call." He got up and left the room.

A few minutes later, he returned to tell her their day was on. They left in the car and went downtown. They walked the Avenue des Champ-Elysees. At noon, they stopped at a wonderful outdoor café on the street. The Eifel Tower stood over them as they ate. After the meal, as they were ordering dessert, he stood up. "I'm sorry, Celia. I must excuse myself to the lavatory for a moment."

Aya watched him leave. She had thought she had seen one of John's men sitting in the café but wasn't sure.

He came back a few minutes later, and they continued their day. There were no more interruptions, and the next several days were the same.

Finally, it came time to leave. Their last night was unbelievable. They didn't get much sleep. They didn't want it to end and continued time and again.

Finally, he went with her to his plane. "Cherie, I do love you. I am not asking anything of you, but I needed you to know." He kissed her and walked her onto the plane. She was in shock, and didn't say anything as he left. The entire flight was a jumbo of emotions. What now? She felt like a Jezebel. She had deceived him, tricked him, and he had opened his heart to her. She felt like shit.

She decided she had to get back to work and took the next flight they could get her. John had not told her anything about what happened in Paris, and she didn't want to know, anyway.

The next flight was to London. The flight there was uneventful. The return flight the next morning started the same way. When they were about an hour out of New York, Aya was in the economy cabin because of the sudden flight she had taken. She is normally in first class, but she doesn't care right now. She just needed to work. The service was done, and she was sitting on one of the seats in the work area in the back. The lavatories were just in front of her. She didn't really notice when the passengers came and went for the lavatories. It happened the entire flight. This time, she heard a sound out of one of the lavatories. She went to investigate. The door was partially open, and a woman seemed in distress. As Aya went to open the door, the woman reached out with her hand toward Aya. In a second, she recognized the ring on the woman's hand. It was the same ring she had used on Andre the first day. She grabbed the woman by the wrist to prevent her from jabbing her with the ring and twisted it back toward the woman. In the confusion, the woman's other arm got in the way and Aya pushed it into her arm.

The look of shock and fear registered on the woman's face when she realized what had happened. She pulled back, and in doing so, the ring scratched Aya's arm as it flew by. The woman was dead by time Aya had pushed her back into the lavatory. However, she did not know how much of the poison was left when it scratched her arm.

She locked the lavatory and sat down on the seat. The other attendant came back at that time. Aya had to tell her to keep the lavatory locked and inform the pilot they had a dead woman in it. The attendant's eyes got big and headed for the front. While she was gone, Aya took her phone and texted the emergency code for "agent down" and her flight number to New York and arrival time, and a dead terrorist.

By the time the pilot arrived, Aya was woozy. She told them she didn't feel very well, and they called in an emergency.

By the time the plane landed, Aya was unconscious.

John got the text and knew who it was from. He contacted Homeland Security and appraised them of the situation. He called it a terrorist attack with attacker dead, but his agent down. Homeland met the plane at the gate after they had cleared it for immediate landing.

The passengers were ordered to stay in their seats. They were amazed to see numerous men in black suits and paramedics come down the aisle. They were even more amazed when two people were stretchered off the plane. One had a sheet over their head, and the other was one of the attendants.

Aya awoke in a hospital bed. She was groggy, and in a daze. John was sitting beside the bed holding her hand. When she opened her eyes, he dropped her hand and smiled. "Welcome back, Aya. That was close. If there had been any more of the poison still on the pin, you wouldn't be here."

She shook her head and tried to clear it. The nurse went to get the doctor. John waited until the doctor was satisfied. The doctor told her she would have to spend the night. When he was gone, John continued. "The woman in the lavatory was a high-priced hitwoman. We have been after her for years."

He patted her hand. "Your training paid off. Your reactions saved your life, and I am glad about that. We are going to move you to a secure location until you are on your feet. We will talk about Paris when you are better."

She drifted off to sleep after that. She was alive.

By the next day, she was feeling much better. They had moved her to a secure building within the CIA.

She was beginning to get restless when John came to see her. His entire team had been by wishing her well. They looked relieved she was okay.

"How are you feeling? You are feeling strong enough to talk about Paris?"

She nodded.

"Ok-ay. First of all, Andre met with our friend Tehrani in that lavatory during your lunch. We don't know what happened. Afterwards, we followed everyone, but lost Tehrani in the crowded streets."

John took her hand and looked in her eyes. He spoke softly. "I have something to tell you, and it is difficult. Please steal yourself. You ready?"

She nodded. "Andre Bardot was killed yesterday afternoon in a car bomb. I'm sorry."

She screamed and fainted.