It was the year 2011 in the dense jungle of Burma.
Nearly a hundred men were sweating profusely as they dug into the ground with shovels and machinery. They were hired to excavate gold and other natural resources. A government minister was there along with military officials and business people.
She was part of the business side of things. Her real name was Ohnmar, but in secret circles, her alias was 'Ms. Q.'
The meeting and the tour of the land had wrapped up and many of them went their separate ways. Plans were closer to being finalized and big contracts were near, benefiting everyone involved.
After paying final respects to the military personal and the government minister, she took a moment to check her phone. A woman of her stature had to always be in the loop of things, whether it be family responsibilities or business dilemmas that needed urgent attention.
Skimming through her new messages and emails, something caught her eye. It was a note from the Agency. It was something from deep within her personal life that no one else knew about. Her heart always rushed whenever she received an email from them. She always felt embarrassed too.
Good and proper Burmese women like her weren't supposed to be involved with anything like this. Yet she was. The message should have waited and she should have kept her focus on the land excavation.
Instead, she checked the message. It couldn't wait.
Ms. Q,
I am currently in the capital city of Yangon after a last minute change of plans. I was hoping we could meet in person, face to face. I'll have a driver take you to my hotel when you're ready.
Dinner starts at 8 pm and I have a big proposal for you.
If you're looking for fun afterwards, there's plenty of that too.
Much love,
I.W.
The initials 'I.W' stood for the
Illusive Woman
. For those in-the-know, the Illusive Woman was the person in charge of the secret operation. It had been rumored for years that this person was part of a royal family in Europe. But that was just gossip and nothing was ever proven. Besides, it didn't matter. The services were impeccable. That was what's important.
She stood there blushing with shame as she put her phone away. These messages always had a profound effect on her. She'd always feel the same rush. That sense of guilt and excitement.
Her mind swirled with what the 'proposal' was. It could have been anything but she had a feeling it was something business related. In the past, she had given people in the Agency pointers here and there about organization and strategy.
"Are you okay?" a Frenchman named Richard asked. "You're looking a bit flush. There's a soda in the van if you need sugar."
She forced a smile. "I'm fine, I was just a little light-headed for a moment."
"We'll be having lunch soon. That should do the trick."
"It will, I'm fine. I didn't eat much and we had a busy morning."
He smiled and gestured to the van. "Let's be on our way then."
The small group of business people went to their van and traveled down the dirt road to a nearby town. They ate a local meal of chicken with garlic noodles, along with the famous tea leaf salad.
Naturally, the conversation was focused on contracts, numbers, and estimates. She added to the conversation whenever she could, as she has much expertise in international importing and exporting.
But her mind was focused on the message.
The truth was, she had last rendered the services of the Agency a few months ago when she was on a trip to France to meet with investors. Since then, she swore she'd never contact these people again. As sweet and lovely as they all were, it was too much of a vice for a cultured woman like herself. The shame felt like a burden which constantly grew with each session.
She tried focusing on her noodles and keeping up with the important conversations at the table. To great effect, she was able to act like everything was natural. Her input was invaluable and no one had the slightest idea that sex was on her mind.
***
It was 4 pm when she arrived back to the capital city of Yangon. Like many in Burma, she still lived with her family, even though she was a woman in her mid 40's. She cared for her parents and she lived with her two brothers who ran a nearby restaurant.
She took a quick nap after catching up with her family. By 5:30, she prepared for the night out, telling her family that she was having dinner with visiting associates from Europe; it was technically true.
The outfit she decided on was a blend between East and West. She wore a htamein, which was a traditional Burmese dress to cover her legs. It had vibrant and colorful patterns displayed. For her top, she wore a western style buttoned up blouse. It was thin, since the weather was hot. Sandals were on her bare feet.
Between that and her elegantly done makeup and hair, not many people could have believed that this was the same woman who had just been in the jungle that very same morning.
A driver had picked her up and taken her to the 5-star hotel. At a glance, Ms. Q looked like a woman who could easily be apart of the government or the country's social elite. Inwardly, she was a mess. The closer the car had taken her to the hotel, the more nervous she became.
She felt tense meeting the Illusive Woman, whoever that lady was. And she felt like she was breaking an oath to herself, that she should be a proper and decent woman and stop rendering these services.
Her inner-desire won. It always did. All her life she was the respectable 'good woman' for herself and for her family. Her reputation and family name meant everything.
If anyone deserved a vice, it was her. But was it really a vice? She wondered. Things were changing in Asia and the mood was generally shifting towards sexual liberation. In a place like Burma, the pace was dramatically slower. She prided herself on being a worldly and enlightened woman. Surely her side affairs were consistent with the woman she prided herself on being.
The driver had dropped her off at the front of the hotel and the staff greeted her warmly. She went down in the elevator to the spa area, where their private meeting would be held. There were different rooms for massages, hot tubs, and whatever treatment a person could need.
Ms. Q went down the short hallway and there was a private facility with a small pool and a hot tub. Her heart was pounding, wondering if she'd see anything wayward going on. Instead, there was silence. The area was mostly dim and the pool was brightly lit to create a romantic atmosphere.
"Do you mind that I'm still in the hot tub?" a feminine voice said from behind.
Turning around, Ms. Q saw a young blonde woman, probably in her early 30's, sitting casually in a tub that was on the floor level. There were bright lights in the tub and it was obvious the woman was naked.
This was the Illusive Woman! Her hair was wet and slicked back. Her hair was so blonde that it looked golden.
More importantly, it seemed that the rumor was true. This woman was part of a royal family in Europe and was occasionally featured in the tabloids, but Ms. Q didn't dare to bring that up. This organization was based on secrecy and trust.
"We can talk however you'd like," Ms. Q replied. "I am at your full service."
"Why?"