Chapter One
Security checks take so long, thought CIA Agent Mandy Wilson when walking through the tight security checks before entering the Central Intelligence Agency located in Virginia. Showing ID cards, taking finger prints, eye scans, and other different security checks everyday twenty-four seven. Mandy worked as an undercover agent.
Walking into one of the many conference rooms in the Central Intelligence Agency, she saw only one person in it, Agent Brad Jones. He was sitting in one of those leather roily chairs with his eyes close. "New mission for us," he said eyes still closed, but sensing that she was in the room. "It's in Russia or so it is rumored."
"Russia?," said Mandy. "I thought Agents Simpson and Westgerald were on the job."
"Not if they are dead," replied Brad.
Shock filled Mandy's brown eyes. "How did that happen?"
"I have no clue, David hasn't told anyone. Just in case if it were a mole," said Brad opening his eyes.
Three more agents started walking into the conference room just then and their boss, David Ramseur, was bringing up the rear. Everybody respected David Ramseur. He was intelligent and had a very good personality. Female workers thought he was pretty cute for the age of 45.
David started handing out files to each of them. "Inside these files there are your new missions. Read them well."
Mandy opened the file up and saw that it was the Russian case. Brad was right, she thought. There were photos of people-politicians and Russian mob members, documents, and copied notes from Simpson and Westgerald.
"This is the mob case," said Agent Grace Lee. "Some corrupted politicians working with the mob, working outside the legal line with them."
"You will go to Russia with the ambassador, who is going on be half of the president," said David, looking at each of them. "But first is first, I want to talk to you separately. Lee, Foreman, Sherman, I will talk to you in exactly twenty minutes."
All three agents got up and walked out. David sat down in a chair and waited to talk. Looking at them each in turn with his hazel eyes, he finally said, "You two will be going as interpreters and politicians. Before your flight tomorrow, I will send you your new passports."
"Is it true about Simpson and Westgerald?, asked Mandy.
"Yes," was all David said.
"How?," asked Mandy.
"Simpson wounded the head of the mob, so he got shot in the head. Then they started to suspect Westgerald. Westgerald suspected that they suspected him and was about to leave, but ended up not leaving."
"A mole," said Brad, the first thing he said since the meeting started.
David nodded. "You see this picture," he pointed to a picture of an attractive man. "He is Konstantin Vladislav. Politician by day, mob member by night."
"Attractive," said Mandy.
"Not get too involved with him," said David more seriously. "He is dangerous and besides, his father, Demyan Vladislav, is the head of the Russian mob, but the public does not know that."
"It says something here about there is a party in three days," said Brad, reading a paper in the file.
"Yes," said David. "One in which you will attend with the ambassador and other politicians from different countries."
"Okay," Mandy sighed. "I am not very good in politics though."
"Make bullshit up from the top of your head," said Brad. "Nobody will notice. Politicians do it all the time."
David laughed. "What else should I say? Oh, the party is the dressy up kind. So wear a dress Mandy."
"What?," said Mandy. "What's wrong with slacks?"
"Maybe because you wear those everyday," mocked Brad.
"I would like to see you wear a dress," said Mandy.
"Let me go buy one now," said Brad sarcastically.
"Children," said David tiredly, before Mandy could speak. "Play nice."
"He started it," whispered Mandy.
David glared angrily at her. "Finish your mission," he said, serious once more. "You may leave. Tell the others to come in." Both nodded and got up. Walking out the door side by side, Brad told the other agents to go in.
"I guess I will go buy a dress," said Mandy reluctantly. "See you tomorrow."
"Bye," said Brad. "Can't wait to see your dress."
"Ha ha," said Mandy sarcastically.
Mandy walked out, after many security checks even though she was leaving the Central Intelligence Agency building. She drove to the mall and started her search for a dress.
Security checks take so long, thought CIA Agent Mandy Wilson when walking through the tight security checks before entering the Central Intelligence Agency located in Virginia. Showing ID cards, taking finger prints, eye scans, and other different security checks everyday twenty-four seven. Mandy worked as an undercover agent.
Walking into one of the many conference rooms in the Central Intelligence Agency, she saw only one person in it, Agent Brad Jones. He was sitting in one of those leather roily chairs with his eyes close. "New mission for us," he said eyes still closed, but sensing that she was in the room. "It's in Russia or so it is rumored."
"Russia?," said Mandy. "I thought Agents Simpson and Westgerald were on the job."
"Not if they are dead," replied Brad.
Shock filled Mandy's brown eyes. "How did that happen?"
"I have no clue, David hasn't told anyone. Just in case if it were a mole," said Brad opening his eyes.
Three more agents started walking into the conference room just then and their boss, David Ramseur, was bringing up the rear. Everybody respected David Ramseur. He was intelligent and had a very good personality. Female workers thought he was pretty cute for the age of 45.
David started handing out files to each of them. "Inside these files there are your new missions. Read them well."
Mandy opened the file up and saw that it was the Russian case. Brad was right, she thought. There were photos of people-politicians and Russian mob members, documents, and copied notes from Simpson and Westgerald.
"This is the mob case," said Agent Grace Lee. "Some corrupted politicians working with the mob, working outside the legal line with them."
"You will go to Russia with the ambassador, who is going on be half of the president," said David, looking at each of them. "But first is first, I want to talk to you separately. Lee, Foreman, Sherman, I will talk to you in exactly twenty minutes."
All three agents got up and walked out. David sat down in a chair and waited to talk. Looking at them each in turn with his hazel eyes, he finally said, "You two will be going as interpreters and politicians. Before your flight tomorrow, I will send you your new passports."
"Is it true about Simpson and Westgerald?, asked Mandy.
"Yes," was all David said.
"How?," asked Mandy.
"Simpson wounded the head of the mob, so he got shot in the head. Then they started to suspect Westgerald. Westgerald suspected that they suspected him and was about to leave, but ended up not leaving."
"A mole," said Brad, the first thing he said since the meeting started.
David nodded. "You see this picture," he pointed to a picture of an attractive man. "He is Konstantin Vladislav. Politician by day, mob member by night."
"Attractive," said Mandy.
"Not get too involved with him," said David more seriously. "He is dangerous and besides, his father, Demyan Vladislav, is the head of the Russian mob, but the public does not know that."
"It says something here about there is a party in three days," said Brad, reading a paper in the file.
"Yes," said David. "One in which you will attend with the ambassador and other politicians from different countries."
"Okay," Mandy sighed. "I am not very good in politics though."
"Make bullshit up from the top of your head," said Brad. "Nobody will notice. Politicians do it all the time."
David laughed. "What else should I say? Oh, the party is the dressy up kind. So wear a dress Mandy."
"What?," said Mandy. "What's wrong with slacks?"
"Maybe because you wear those everyday," mocked Brad.
"I would like to see you wear a dress," said Mandy.
"Let me go buy one now," said Brad sarcastically.
"Children," said David tiredly, before Mandy could speak. "Play nice."
"He started it," whispered Mandy.
David glared angrily at her. "Finish your mission," he said, serious once more. "You may leave. Tell the others to come in." Both nodded and got up. Walking out the door side by side, Brad told the other agents to go in.
"I guess I will go buy a dress," said Mandy reluctantly. "See you tomorrow."
"Bye," said Brad. "Can't wait to see your dress."
"Ha ha," said Mandy sarcastically.
Mandy walked out, after many security checks even though she was leaving the Central Intelligence Agency building. She drove to the mall and started her search for a dress.