The Accidental Spy
Chapter 7: Closing in for a Kill

Copyright© 2014 by harry lime

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 7: Closing in for a Kill - The cold war is still hot when Harry gets orders to transport a "package" to a safe haven. Everything changes with the passage of time but some things never change. The drops are still dangerous and the rules are no longer followed like the old days. It is best to trust no one not even his bosses.

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Mystery   Safe Sex   Violence  

Olga had her earphones on listening to some crap punk rock from a rising Swedish group and I was inhaling the scent of the heated Benedictine in my Espresso whilst trying to keep my eyes on two doors and the street outside the café.

Fernandina's daughter Sophia was supposed to meet us here according to the message her mother left us at the hotel desk. It seemed like a safe enough place to meet despite the flustered Harold's dire warnings of Russian interests in my affairs. It was early enough for us to be in the midst of local coffee drinkers and far too early for the usual tourist crowds to gather. Olga was bouncing in her seat like some frenzied schoolgirl and shot me an angry look when I kicked her ankle under the table to get her to settle down.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two young girls exchanging some notes with each other and at the same time I spotted two goons in a dirty Volvo sitting in the bus stop across the canal. They were trying to look like innocent tourists but the faces were stamped "Former KGB". My instinct was to grab Olga's wrist and drag her out the back way without any explanation. It was the arrival of Sophia on the scene that forestalled my "flee" instinct and I smiled like a performing chimpanzee making the introductions between Sophia and Olga.

Sophia certainly looked a lot younger than her advertised eighteen years but I sensed that was probably a good thing and not a bad thing at all. I knew I was more than likely looking at my own daughter but the poor thing had no idea at all thinking I was just some old friend of her mother's and was touching base out of respect for our friendship. She looked utterly bored with the possible exception of talking to Olga about the relative merits of Swedish bands over Italian bands. I had not the slightest hint of what they were talking about. It was probably just as well because I saw the two foot-soldiers finally emerge from the dirty old Volvo and start to walk across the bridge.

I gathered up the two girls who were still talking non-stop to each other in Italian and headed to the rear exit and Harold's waiting car which he had generously loaned to me for the day after I twisted his arm and given him a wad of Euros. I sped off down the narrow street beside the adjoining canal seeing the two strong-arm guys emerging out of the café with angry looks on their mugs.

I decided to take the two girls on a quick trip over to the glass works on the Island of Murano just because things in Venice were getting a bit too hot to handle. Sophia was having a good time and so was Olga but I was as nervous as a schoolgirl out on her first date. They wanted to buy some of the little glass figurines and I let them figuring that even if they got broken; they still would have a remembrance of the day.

When we parted from Sophia at the Plaza dock, I pressed a small envelope into her hands with a nice stack of new folding money for her to play with. I told her it was a debt I owed to her mother and she had told me to just give it to her daughter for school expenses. I hoped she spent it sensibly and not invest it all on tapes of punk rock musicians.

Olga and I drove back to our hotel but I drove around the block three times before I was satisfied it was not a set-up. As soon as we got to the room, I told her to pack because we were leaving early for Rome and I wanted to be on the highway before dark. She grumbled but took a quick shower and we were in the garage within the hour. I didn't see anyone trailing us but my skills were slowing down after twenty years of looking in the rear-view mirror.

She was no fool and was checking out the side-view mirrors with equal intentness. We had a full tank of petrol and I figured we would have the bulk of the trip over before midnight. It would be too early for our hotel but I knew we could always just lay up in one of the truck rest areas and take turns sleeping with the doors locked and away from prying eyes.

The road was fairly empty except for the large truck transports that seemed to drive in mini-convoys like ships avoiding German U-boats. I felt infinitely better now that we were in the open and not trapped inside a hotel room by invisible assailants. I was just beginning to get a bit sleepy when we arrived at the outskirts of Rome.

I had been thinking long and hard during the night-time drive and had come to the conclusion that our problems might be a little more complicated that I first suspected. I could discern from Harold's devious dialogue that he was experiencing a sense of pity for me and it put me on edge more than anything else on this crazy mission. In the back of my mind, the seeds of suspicion began to germinate as I considered the possibility that my employers really did not want my mission to succeed and would be quite agreeable to seeing me swept off the playing board with little chance of revealing their secrets.

Strangely, I was more and more convinced that this chess-game was not about the "Dancer" or about a dangerous run across international borders to protect a valuable "asset". No, it was about me and the fact that someone in charge had decided my time had come and it was definitely time for me to go.

I decided that I needed to get more information from Olga.

She was more than likely an innocent dupe of the set-up and would not be able to furnish good intelligence but at least it was worth a try. It was also probably time for us to get out from under the watchful eyes of the controllers and start making our own moves which would harder for the opposition to discern.

We washed up at a newly-constructed truck stop that was fortunately devoid of any early morning tour bus traffic and then got some deliciously adequate eggs and biscuits at the grill line along with some steaming hot coffee that tasted more American than Italian. Now that the sleep was banished from our eyeballs, I engaged Olga in an up close and personal debriefing about her knowledge of the reasons for her desperate journey and how well she knew the agents of her defection. She answered me naively with what I could tell from my interrogation expertise to be the full and honest truth. I could tell she was not truly familiar with the particulars and had no idea at all why I had been selected to guide her through the maze of intrigue.

 
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