3
It was a great comfort for Dalia to be driven around the city in a Mercedes S class salon. The rebels had been saving this car for a ‘special occasion’ and this was car was essential to play the part today. It may have not been the classiest but it would add to the charade. Dalia could not come up to the mansion in old rusted car, nor could she just walk there, too many suspicious people could cause alarms for such a delicate mission.
Dalia was to play the part of a single and very rich countess who had been hiding out in the south of France until now when she is finally return to her estate near York, such a profile should have Church interested, especially since Dalia was taking the life of a woman who was alive not more than a week ago. It would be unlikely that the governate would have been keeping tabs on a random rich woman. Dalia sat in the back of the silver Mercedes behind the driver. She watched as they drove on the few roads that could still be driven on. Since the revolution started, cars had been reduced to almost nothing since gas was almost inaccessible to most people. The cars had no value yet they had a great prestige, merely driving a car, let alone a well kept Mercedes signaled that you were one of those the governate appreciated. She watched as the ruins of the city laid there, continuously becoming more degraded over the many years of fighting.
Once in a while she could see people on the street but they immediately ducked for cover when the car drove by. The people had learnt that the governate meant trouble, even as innocent bystanders, harassment and accusation were common, so common that many had chosen to fight against the governate, at least giving cause for any harassment they would endear. The city was destitute. Dalia could still see it as it once was, before any of this ever happened. The streets were well kept, trees used to grow in pots along that road, a small Indian run grocery store was in that building.
All of it was gone yet even though reality had changed Dalia’s memories had not, it was comforting to Dalia. Reaching the outside of the city she could see a great contrast to the style of living. Out here houses were still large and untouched. Their gardens were neatly trimmed so they were not to overflow over the vast white walls and black gates engraved with crescents and other designs. Each house had a small army guarding it. Yet in this false atmosphere of safety there were still no people walking the streets, they obviously did not feel as safe as their houses proclaimed.
All of it was gone yet even though reality had changed Dalia’s memories had not, it was comforting to Dalia. Reaching the outside of the city she could see a great contrast to the style of living. Out here houses were still large and untouched. Their gardens were neatly trimmed so they were not to overflow over the vast white walls and black gates engraved with crescents and other designs. Each house had a small army guarding it. Yet in this false atmosphere of safety there were still no people walking the streets, they obviously did not feel as safe as their houses proclaimed.
As they neared the location of the party the driver spoke for the first time “Ok Dalia, we are coming close. Remember, get what you can from the office and then come straight back to the car, I’ll get us out of here fast. If you’re compromised you’ll need to find another way out of here because I and the car will be the first targets.”
“Thank you for the reminder.” Dalia replied. She did not need reminding, in fact the reminder depressed her a tad. The driver turned into a road that had large oak trees lined up on either side, at the end of this road was a large house and in between the car and the house was a road block often guarded by civil police and military. The car slowed down to a stop at the road block, the driver opened his window and presented the correct papers. Both the driver and Dalia were nerve racked, but tried their best not to twitch, fidget or sweat. On demand the driver popped the trunk of the car and even the gas flap. Soon after they were asked to step out of the car. The driver was convinced they were caught and was about to switch the gears into reverse and try to escape, but Dalia’s agreement halted his action.
Confused he opened his door and then opened Dalia’s. She stepped out, her long black dress covering one of her legs but revealing her right calf. The driver and the muscular military guard could not help but look at her unveiled leg, as if they were teenage boys once again. Dalia pretended not to notice. The men suddenly snapped back to reality and the guard continued to step into the car and started searching it. Another guard picked up a hand held metal detector and waved it slowly around the bodies of the driver and then Dalia. Not a beep, she was glad she did not bring her gun. Once the guard exited the car he addressed his superior with “All clear sir!” His superior immediately walked towards Dalia and said “I’m sorry for the inconvenience Countess Erika; we cannot be too careful these days.”
Confused he opened his door and then opened Dalia’s. She stepped out, her long black dress covering one of her legs but revealing her right calf. The driver and the muscular military guard could not help but look at her unveiled leg, as if they were teenage boys once again. Dalia pretended not to notice. The men suddenly snapped back to reality and the guard continued to step into the car and started searching it. Another guard picked up a hand held metal detector and waved it slowly around the bodies of the driver and then Dalia. Not a beep, she was glad she did not bring her gun. Once the guard exited the car he addressed his superior with “All clear sir!” His superior immediately walked towards Dalia and said “I’m sorry for the inconvenience Countess Erika; we cannot be too careful these days.”
Dalia replied in a proper northern English accent “Not at all my dear Capitan! Those rebelscannot infiltrate any fortress that you protect.” Her accent spotless and her hand brushing against the Captain’s clean shaven cheek. He bowed his head and stepped back. Dalia entered the car, with the driver closing the door behind her with care not to make too much noise. He then entered the driver’s seat and drove onwards.
“That was amazing!” the driver exclaimed looking at Dalia through the rear view mirror.
“I couldn’t have let you suddenly freak out and endanger the whole mission; we won’t get another chance like this again.” The driver, embarrassed that Dalia had read his mind did not speak again for the rest of the short drive, the silence allowed Dalia to focus once more. She closed her eyes, shielding her intense green irises from the world and took a deep breath. She exhaled and opened her eyes and she was now looking at the large mansion that was directly to her right.
“I’ll be right here Dalia. Good luck.” The driver finally spoke again. The door was opened by a civil policeman who was dressed in a tuxedo but had a rifle sling on his left shoulder. “Welcome to Mister Church’s residence, May I have your name?” said the tuxedoed guard. Dalia stepped out from the car and rose to the height of the man’s shoulders. This man was well trained; he had not even so much as glanced at her calves. “Countess Erika” she said, being sure to add a dash of arrogance to her voice.
“Right this way countess,” the guard said extending his hand up the red carpeted stairs. He led her up the stairs whilst behind them, next to the car, an almost identical guard took his position, all the while her car started to move towards a nearby parking space.
At the top of the carpeted stairs were two towering mahogany doors that opened as if by magic when Dalia and the guard approached. Dalia had wanted to see how those doors opened so smoothly, even though she knew that there were guards trained specifically for that job. With the door opened she could now gaze upon the entire room. It was almost as if she had gone back two hundred years to the Victorian era. The room was bright with white walls engraved with several majestic designs and murals with yellow trimmings and boarders around them. The yellow trims made everything, from the mirrors and paintings to the chairs and tables, look like they had been plated with gold. Either Mr. Church was a great collector, or he took advantage of the Royal family’s escape to acquire some of their more luxurious items. To Dalia’s left she could hear a man announcing her entrance.
At the end of his sentence all eyes had been caste on to her. She felt momentarily paralyzed. As if the gaze of hundreds of people had pinned her to the wall. When the room was satisfied with what they saw it continued to its previous boasting atmosphere. Although the house was quite Victorian, the people were not. The men had worn tuxedos of all types and colors. Some wore black, others brown, one strange man even wore turquoise and had a diamond ear ring on his right ear; next to him coupling his arm was another more formally dressed man. Dalia did not know who was escorting who.
The women in the room had all invested in dresses that had allowed them to show as much cleavage as possible whilst still pretending to look decent. By the time Dalia had been given a glass of Champagne by a wandering waiter with a tray full of glasses, she had already been asked to be escorted four times. She did not know if it was her attractiveness or her alias’ title that made the men gravitate towards her. It was probably both. She admired the Champagne for a while, being sure that nobody saw her staring at the golden liquid. She admired the way the bubbles traveled to the top, as if the glass had been punctured at the bottom.
The women in the room had all invested in dresses that had allowed them to show as much cleavage as possible whilst still pretending to look decent. By the time Dalia had been given a glass of Champagne by a wandering waiter with a tray full of glasses, she had already been asked to be escorted four times. She did not know if it was her attractiveness or her alias’ title that made the men gravitate towards her. It was probably both. She admired the Champagne for a while, being sure that nobody saw her staring at the golden liquid. She admired the way the bubbles traveled to the top, as if the glass had been punctured at the bottom.
Dalia did not see the infamous Mr. Church yet. A man like him would stand out from any crowd, especially one as pompous as the one tonight. Dalia continued to be courted by men as if they were flies invading sugar. She could not help but accept a dance from one man to help let time pass. He called himself Cooper, Kane Cooper. No title, but an avid associate to the governate Dalia learnt. They danced to Chopin’s waltz. Cooper had excellent form compared to Dalia’s, his hand firmly but ever so gently grasped her left hand, and his right hand was almost unfelt as it held Dalia’s back. She was glad she did not have to lead the dance. “So tell me, what bring you back home countess?” Cooper asked.
“It is my home, and I cannot watch it being terrorized by rebels in a foreign country. I intend to invest in the governate as much as I can to crush these terrorists.” Dalia needed to play the part but she was worried that she had made it over dramatic. “I see you have great love for your home Countess.” Cooper remarked. Dalia replied “My love for my home is great, but I have no love for politics, so let us just enjoy the party.” She hoped he did not take notice of the obvious change of subject. “As you wish countess.” Cooper said as the dance ended.
An older and balding man started talking into the microphone where the orchestra had played. Cooper had turned and looked at the man, but when he returned his vision to Dalia, she was no longer by his side. He smiled and looked directly at the man on the stage talking into the microphone and then nodded. The man on the stage acknowledged the nod by winking ever so slightly and covered it as if it was a joke to the audience, they laughed as if on demand, all starting at the same time with the same intensity and all hushing within two seconds. Dalia thought they were a pathetic mob; it wasn’t even a funny joke. She was now at the edge of the crowd near the door she had entered into. The man continued to talk and everybody listened as if they were dogs being talked to by their master, they realized they had to stay put but that did not mean they understood or cared what was being said. Dalia was the only one out of place not looking at the man on the stage; instead she was more concerned with looking around the room. Not only for its sheer beauty but also for potential exits and perhaps ways in which to sneak into Church’s office.
A deep but comforting voice came from behind Dalia “I’ve always admired this room more than I did the people in it.” She smiled as she turned, she did not need to see his face to know who it was. As she faced the man she did not know what struck her first, the reflection of the medals from his uniform or the large scar that crossed his left eye down to his upper lip. His full head of white hair handsomely made him exude maturity. He was clean shaven but it was his eyes that had scared Dalia, she saw something frightening that she could not describe in those eyes. All she knew was that this man was not always as charming as he pretended to be.
“I am Neil Church, welcome to my home, Countess Erika.” He had obviously done his homework before approaching Dalia, instead of asking how he knew and acting flattered, she decided to do the opposite.
“Yes and I am aware of who you are Mr. Church, and this is not only your home but your office.”
“My my, you do know more than I had thought, I must admit.” Church smiled.
“Believe me Mr. Church I know much more at my age than I perhaps should.’ Dalia replied as she looked into his eyes her eyebrow slightly raised. “How rebellious of you. Are you sure you are not a rebel spy infiltrating my home?”
Dalia smiled at the irony. “I may be a rebel, and perhaps a spy but I do not spy for the rebels Mr. Church.”
“How am I to believe that?”
He was playing right into Dalia’s game. She knew that Church had a fondness for women who had adventurous spirits. They had enough information to learn that most women he had taken an eye for were women who stood out from the crowd. Dalia had stepped closer to Church’s body and whispered into his ear. “Perhaps you should try interrogating me personally.” She then stepped back and waited for a reaction.
“If you would please follow me Countess.” He said motioning his hand to a door on the far end of the room. Bingo, she was in.
As Dalia followed Church, she was in desperate need to find a waiter. She followed but still scanned the room. A few walked by but none of them carried Champagne. They neared the door, there wasn’t much more time. Mr. Church, as if reading Dalia’s mind snapped his finger and a waiter with Champagne came rushing to him, Mr. Church picked up 2 glasses from the tray and turned to give one to Dalia, she accepted without saying a word.
Still following, Dalia quickly pulled out a small plastic zip lock bag from her left breast. Inside it were two small white tablets. She opened the zip lock bag and dumped the tablets into her drink. She swirled the drink to dissolve the tablets quicker. When they reached the door, Church was saluted by two more military men in tuxedos who guarded the entrance to the door but these men were none like she had seen before. They were not normal men, these men had been specifically chosen. Their bodies rivaled those of a bear, the scars on their faces, evidence of what looked like clashes with the bears they challenged. They stood there motionless but unnervingly alert to any small Champagne bottle that was opened.
As Church started to talk to the guards, Dalia walked towards him and opened her hand to his Champagne glass, he let her take it and she walked into the room without invitation. Church could not help but admire that. She was now standing in the belly of the beast. It was nothing like she expected. She had imagined it to be a stale room with only maps and other strategic papers. Instead it was the contrast. It was a warm room; the furniture was aged and polished to perfection. To her left was a small fire in a fire place that illuminated the room. To her right were the massive bookcases cataloged with numerous books, she wondered if he had in fact read them all or not.
As Church started to talk to the guards, Dalia walked towards him and opened her hand to his Champagne glass, he let her take it and she walked into the room without invitation. Church could not help but admire that. She was now standing in the belly of the beast. It was nothing like she expected. She had imagined it to be a stale room with only maps and other strategic papers. Instead it was the contrast. It was a warm room; the furniture was aged and polished to perfection. To her left was a small fire in a fire place that illuminated the room. To her right were the massive bookcases cataloged with numerous books, she wondered if he had in fact read them all or not.
She walked over to the ebony desk with lions carved on its corners. The entire desk was a work of art. She placed the Champagne glasses on the desk near the middle. She then swiped everything off the sides of the desk, the papers, books, pens and small ornaments. The papers floated down to the floor. Dalia unclasped her dress’ left clasp, and then its right one and the dress cascaded to the floor with the grace of a waterfall. Exposing Dalia’s well shaped body and curves; her lingerie was black, just as her mood was. She could not believe she was doing this. She sat on the table just as the door closed.
“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.” Church smile became devilishly illuminated by the burning fire. Dalia just crossed her legs slowly and shifted her weight which pushed out her breasts towards Mr. Church.
Like a pouncing lion, Church rushed over to Dalia, in retaliation she straightened her back picked up the Champagne glasses and offered her glass to him. “Not until we’ve finish our drinks.” Mr. Church became enraged, grabbed the glass and gulped the Champagne, tossing the glass into the fire, causing the flame to glow harder and sizzle for a moment; Dalia smiled as she delicately sipped her drink. Furiously Church slapped the glass out of Dalia’s hand. It crashed onto the floor. “Now look at what you’ve done. Go get me another drink.” Dalia was being playful but instead of heeding her wishes Church approached her and placed his large hands on her shoulders, he took hold of the straps to Dalia’s bra, his grasp tightened, she looked into his eyes and saw his pupil’s dilate, “Good night” she said softly. He collapsed to the floor. If those sleeping tablets took any longer Dalia would have been a piece of meat in a butcher house. She got off the table and put her dress back on.
She had a great urge to find a letter opener and stab the unconscious murderer that lay at her feet, but she had agreed with the advisor that it would only fuel the cause for the governate. This was purely an extraction assignment. She needed to work quickly; the tablets wouldn’t last long with his large body mass. Dalia started to search the papers on the floor, there were papers on trading, others notes on internal issues. Dalia wanted to take all the papers but that would cause too much suspicion from everybody outside, not to mention Church would be aware that she was a rebel and her cover would be blown. She continued to skim through the various pages on the floor. Nothing, nothing on the Fox. She walked behind the desk and started to open drawers in the desk. The first drawer had nothing, just utensils and finance papers. Second drawer was empty.
The third drawer had papers stacked on papers, she searched through the papers, hoping not to miss anything. More trade, resource use, finance, then there was a few pages stapled together about transport. She read on and it showed specific dates, times and details for transports. It was the last one for the month that caught her attention, it was an armored transport to Dover
Inside was a half filled bottle of Cognac and leaning against the inside wall of the desk was a hard backed navy blue book. It was no larger than half the size of an A4 sheet of paper, but it was filled with extra sheets all sticking out on the sides and was incredibly thick. It was held together by a small black leather belt. Some kind of diary? Dalia thought. A knock came from the door followed by a voice “is everything all right sir?” Dalia quickly took the transport paper, folded it and stuffed it into her bra. The notebook however she would have to walk out with in plain view.
Inside was a half filled bottle of Cognac and leaning against the inside wall of the desk was a hard backed navy blue book. It was no larger than half the size of an A4 sheet of paper, but it was filled with extra sheets all sticking out on the sides and was incredibly thick. It was held together by a small black leather belt. Some kind of diary? Dalia thought. A knock came from the door followed by a voice “is everything all right sir?” Dalia quickly took the transport paper, folded it and stuffed it into her bra. The notebook however she would have to walk out with in plain view.
She walked to the door, took a deep breath and slowly opened it with her left hand, holding the notebook behind her back with her right hand. When she opened it she faced one of the military bears staring directly at her waiting for Church to come from behind her. Dalia did not open the door fully and purposely squeezed through the small gap. “He’ll be out in just a minute.” Dalia said with innocence. The guard stepped back and let Dalia shut the door and walk away. As she walked away she moved her hand from her back slowly to her front to always obstruct the notebook from the guard’s site. She did not run, nor did she walk fast, she had to act like nothing had happened, although she knew that everybody in the room was looking at her flushed appearance. She pretended not to notice it, and as honorably as she could, walked out of the ball room and outside to the waiting car. The driver opened the back door to the silver Mercedes. He returned to the driver’s seat and the car drove away slowly.
As he heard the door shut, Church tilted his head to look at the door, nobody. She had left. Church rose from the floor without ale. He walked around to his chair, a black leather chair with one large leg at its center that spread out to 5 horizontal legs with wheels attached. He looked into the already opened cabinet in his desk and saw that the note book was gone. He then flicked through the pages in the third drawer and noticed that the transport document was missing its last page. Church could not help but lean back in his chair and smile. He then got up from the chair, walked to the door, opened it and barked an order one of the bears outside his door “Get him in here.” The guard saluted and walked away. Instantly another guard took his position in front of the door, Church shut the door and sat back down in his chair. He took the bottle of Cognac and enjoyed a long slow swig. He again leaned in his chair and placed his legs on his desk. No knock came from the door but it still opened. The man came forward into the room.
“Did she notice?” Church asked.
“Not at all” the slim and sly Mr. Cooper replied.
“Excellent, you did well Mr. Cooper, you may leave.” He followed the instruction and left Church alone in the room, alone to ponder his next moves as the fire illuminated his scared face.
By: Oscar Krol