Chapter 12

After the departure of the American girl’s sister Lauren, a despondent Anne came to me at the pub at the corner and told me,

“My bitch of a sister told me you took her cherry and you even let her have Jesse have a taste of her sweet juice. She told me you confided in her that I was a frigid cunt and that you liked her pussy a lot more than mine.”

It was almost funny because it was a complete lie and I was certain the mischievous Lauren did it just to yank her older sister’s chain. I tried my best to hide my amusement and assured her that such was not the case and that I valued our relationship far more than a one-night stand with her troublemaking sister. It sounded more like something my Jesse would have whispered into the young girl’s ear to encourage her to decadent behavior.

We took Jesse back to the new flat even though I had previously wanted to keep her ignorant of my new safe house. It was unlikely she was in any contact with the dangerous elements of the American anti-terrorist units who were hunting our people in every corner of the globe.

I spent the next few hours riding Anne’s backside hard driving her into a series of shuddering climaxes. My Jesse did her bit by employing her tongue to good use making the American girl whimper like a motherless child. All in all, it was a good session and Anne invited us to a party being given by the French Ambassador on one of the River yachts that doubled as a gambling casino. I knew that Leanne would be there from the Canadian Embassy and I wanted to secure a flash drive she had promised me with information on changing budgets in the United States. She had told me the confused Americans had included Canada on all their distribution of classified information material because they didn’t consider them to be a Foreign Government.

The corrupt and deceptive media in the U.K. had recently claimed a victory in eliminating a wing of our movement in the Manchester region but I knew it to be false and self-serving. The price of the Western apathy would soon have the peaceful streets running in blood once again and they would spend fruitless hours searching for reasons instead of punishing our loyal followers.

I felt that I had come to a crossroads, lost in a decadent world of twisted desires. The strange thing was that my weaknesses were considered normal in this upside down society and my Jihad was considered an abomination.

The path from Islamabad to this island paradise had led me to my day of reckoning and I knew I deserved to feel the wrath of justice on my shoulders. If I had stayed the course as God’s lonely man I would have been deserving of some pity but I knew the weakness of my character and felt I should be beneath contempt. I thought of the “true believers” like PC Anderson who kept the faith until the very end. It was far too stern a discipline for me and I welcomed the thought of being free once more.

Mrs. Mahmoud had told me,

“You have not suffered enough to be one of us, Mister Patel. I fear you will bring disgrace on the cause and never succeed in rising up against the wickedness of this decadent society. You are far too concerned with the “collateral damage” to these heathen than in righting the wrongs done to our people.”

She had been spot on in her assessment of my inner thoughts and I was fortunate that she had been eliminated by the same people who would be far better off with me out of the picture.

I managed to isolate Leanne at the party without notice and she informed me that the Americans had gotten my name from a female room-mate of PC Anderson who worked at the same police station. I remembered seeing the girl a couple of times and had not considered her a threat. Apparently, a hidden diary had come into her possession that mentioned an A. Patel as being an agent of the Pakistani Intelligence Service. I had unfortunately not attempted to hide my name because it helped to cast off suspicion. Now, it was an albatross around my neck and I needed some way of changing identities without being scooped up as an operational terrorist. She gave me the final documents which I immediately sent to Islamabad to forestall any action against me on their part. If they still believed I was functioning as an agent in place they would not be in a hurry to get rid of me.

The new safe house gave me a bit of running room but I knew it was only a matter of time before I would come to the same end as my other cell members.

I almost fainted in relief when Leanne told me,

“Come to the Consulate first thing in the morning and bring nothing with you. It must not look like you had planned to go anywhere. Be sure not to tell any of your women anything about it because it is quite frankly a matter of life and death. We can arrange an extraction to Canada providing you agree to work for our government in keeping terrorism out of our country.”

I knew right away that Leanne was working for her country’s intelligence service and I felt like a fool for not seeing it sooner. At least, it gave me an escape route that nobody knew existed and I had a chance to continue in my duplicitous role a while longer.

I nodded my head and she gave my cock a final tug to let me know she was not all business.

It was the following weekend that I staged a terrible blow-up with my Jesse. She was so incensed that she even disabled her chain and left the flat in mood that promised unrelenting rancor. I was so upset that I wanted to reach out and hug the submissive little darling but I knew it was for her own good.