Chapter 2

I woke up at five o'clock. I had to go to the bathroom. I raised my head to see if Sandy was asleep. She wasn't in the bed and then I heard the toilet flush. I slitted my eyes and watched her return. She hadn't put on her robe and I could see she had on a shortee nightgown.

Her legs were pencil thin as were her arms. Her hair was long and blonde, but in the picture I had been shown she was dark with a pageboy. "Burt, get up and go to the bathroom. And don't pretend you didn't watch me parade across the room in front of you. Remember I'm a trained operative and I notice things."

I grinned. "I can see married to you would be hell if I wanted to cheat on you. How did you know?"

"You had moved your head halfway around and there was a tiny glint from the light on your eyeballs. I spoke softly so if you had really been asleep you wouldn't have answered." I was halfway across the room when she spoke again.

"Burt."

I turned and Sandy looked me over. "Well, I must say you have some good-sized equipment, enough to give me satisfying experiences." And then she giggled. I looked down and my briefs were tented out considerably, the same as any man's would be in the morning. Hm-m. Maybe I would get a little bit interested in this woman.

I crawled back into bed with Sandy. Her hand came over searching for mine. "Burt, I have the feeling you are somewhat uptight about sex. This situation that has been thrust onto you is much like a one-night stand. I think you like to get to know a person first before you consider being intimate. Let me tell you I often had to be just the opposite. Many times I was told, and I quote, 'Woman, you're in my bed tonight.' I was expected to be there, and with never a chance to argue. I accepted it because to do my job well I had to."

"That's terrible!"

"Yes, wasn't it? Oh in case you are worried about sex with me, health-wise, I'm clean and have no diseases."

"That worry hadn't crossed my mind."

"It should've, but I'm not criticizing you. I don't expect you to be as worldly as I've had to be, much of which I long to forget and put behind me. From all reports you have your own strengths."

"Such as and what are they?"

"Honestly, being in charge of a little three-year-old child scares the devil out of me. I'm going to have to depend on you to show me the way so I get it right. I don't want her to hate me."

"Oh, if she is anywhere normal, just think back to when you were a little child. What made you happy? Trade on your memories of that time. You can't give her everything she will want and you'll have to decide if something is good for her or not. I'll help with discipline."

"And how would I do that? You'll be working."

"You could say something like, 'Annie, when Daddy comes home we'll ask him if you can do this or if you can have something.' We'll all decide together. You will soon get the hang of it. There are hundreds of books telling you what or how you should treat a child. I'd like to discuss them with you. But remember the author was trying to sell a book and the ideas might be just a fad. Every child is different, so every situation may have a different answer."

"So I'm to follow you in all things?"

"Absolutely not. You will probably be better at some things than I will. Even our daughter should be included in decisions, but she will have to understand that her parents have the final say. When she reaches adulthood she will have the expertise to make decisions on her own.

"That's better than what I went through these last four years. I wasn't much more than a slave. In fact I was a slave to the desires of the leaders of the cell I was in. I was told by the FBI or the CIA what to look for and how to decide whether I thought it was dangerous for me or not. And I had to do the bidding of those people I was spying on. Remember a courier is the lowest person in a cell of terrorists."

"How in hell did you stand it? More importantly how did you survive?"

"I almost didn't. Here let me have your hand. These scars I'm going to run your fingers over happened a little over three months ago." Sandy turned so my fingers ran over her left butt cheek. I felt a knob of puckered flesh. "Bullet entered here." Then she lay on her back and took my fingers down between her thighs. I felt a ridge of flesh about three inches long. "Bullet crease." Then she lay on her left side and I could feel where another round had gone into her side above her hip bone.

She kept hold of my hand, turned, and ran it over where the bullet had exited her side in the rear and the one where it came out of her ass cheek. "Those were the bullet wounds. There is one more scar. This was a ricochet that about mangled my right breast above my nipple. It looks worse than it actually is, but it still looks like hell. Let's hope there aren't twins in your family, because if there are, I won't be able to feed both at the same time.

"So this all makes me damaged goods for sure. I told those bastards who shot me that they were going to have to find me a husband because no man would marry me looking like I am."

"It was our people who shot you?"

"You bet. I suppose after seeing the way I look, you will be wanting out."

"No, I need a mother for my new daughter. We both are on this train and I'm not ready to get off yet."

"I was hoping you would say that. Let's take a nap and get up about eight for breakfast." Sandy turned over and then reached back and dragged my arm over her. She gave her skinny butt a little twitch against me and was soon asleep.

I thought, "God, my life had been a piece of cake so far. Not like the woman snuggled up to me." Then I thought of my dead wife and baby, well maybe not a piece of cake. I had got beyond tears over their death, but the sadness still visited me at times like this.

Sandy's eyes were open and looking at me when I opened mine. "Burt, I remembered from last night you said 'Annie' when you referred to the child. Is there particularly any reason for that?"

"No, my daughter's name was Leanne and we nicknamed her Leah. I couldn't use that so I came up with Annie."

"What was your wife's name?"

"Benita. She always thought that went well with Brooks."

"Is that your real name?"

"Yep, plain old John Brooks. I have a brother Todd and his wife is Mary and they have two children. My parents live near us in the same town in the state of Vermont."

"I was from Louisiana originally. Father and mother are dead and I was an only child. I think I still have a cousin in the area, but I haven't contacted him since I joined the company. He was told that I am dead. That's okay because we were never close."

"And your name?"

"Not necessary for you to know, but as long as we are being open, it was Jane Boudette. I only spoke French until I got into kindergarten. I'm pretty good with languages and now speak several fluently."

"So it will be no problem dropping your southern accent then?" First thing I new I was speaking with a woman with a Boston accent. I questioned why I was told she would need two months to learn to change.

"Probably so the three of us can bond together into a family unit. I'm due for a vacation, so I guess I'll have to drag you and the kid along with me. How long has it been since you have had a vacation?"

"Not since Bernita and Leah died. I haven't arranged to have the money for this yet. When I see Gordon's superiors I'll find out what we can do. I need money to take care of you and the child. Gordon is the one who recruited me for this."

"Don't worry about money. I've never drawn any pay. I have four years of back salary coming. I'm reasonably well-off for what I did for the Agency and what they did to mess up my looks."

"Does this mean I'm going to have to change my lifestyle a whole lot?"

"I don't think so. I will be happy just to disappear into the background somewhere and forget how I earned the money. And I did earn it too."

"I believe you have. Hey, let's have breakfast. Do you want to order in or go out?"

"I'm hungry so let's find an IHOP. There must be one near." I called a taxi.

I was going to use my credit card to pay the tab, but Sandy thrust cash into my hand. "Think Burt, what you are doing. If you use your card, that tells anyone interested that you, John Brooks, was here in this state on this day at this time in the morning." Then she whispered, "I don't know any John Brooks. Do you?"

"Damn, I'll never make a good agent, that's for sure. Sandy, this was a card they gave me. I left my own at home."

"Yes, but remember every move you make may not be important in the moment, but it can come back and kill you sometime in the future. It might even kill me. You'll learn if it takes me all of two months to teach you."

"Sorry." My life was getting complicated.

When we came out we were on a street of shops and boutiques. We walked by a jewelry store. I paused and peered in the window before we passed it. Sandy started on. I went inside. I saw a tray of silver plate animals that could be strung on a chain. I bought two with chains. They cost twenty-two dollars total. Sandy had waited outside.

"I hope you remembered about using your card?"

"I did. I brought some cash with me."

"What did you purchase?"

"A present for you and one for our child. They are big enough so they can't be choked on. You'll be asked to wear yours at times so the little girl can wear hers. Now we have to find a couple of dolls. A soft one she can cuddle with and a china one that is real pretty that she can stare at and make up stories about."

"How do you know all of this?"

"That is the way Bernita played with Leah."

"Oh, I have so much to learn."

"You'll get it. You just have to make her happy and she will love you forever. It will be up to you to make things for her, doll clothes and stuff like that."

"We'll be meeting her tomorrow. I'm so excited."

"You know I've projected what I want her to be like, but she might be just a little brat. If she is we'll love her anyway won't we?"

"Yes, we will."

I learned a little more during the day about how Sandy was shot and where it happened. It took place in Spain. Recently there had been several bombings and a lot of unrest in that country. The CIA had been collaborating with their counterparts by tracking several of the terrorists. Our agency had discovered that the leaks at NSA had left Sandy exposed. They rushed in trying to extract her.

However, she was mistaken for one of the cell members and had been shot and hit during the exchange of gunfire. Luckily, she had been able to identify herself, although gravely wounded.

I harkened back to what Gordon Smith had said about Sandy being paranoid and didn't expect to see twenty-eight years. So I asked about that.

"That was just made-up bullshit to get whoever they chose to be my husband convinced he was going to be saving my life." She realized what she had just revealed and a worried look crossed her face. "Burt, or Johnny or whatever your name is, you're going to continue aren't you? Nothing has really changed."

"Yeah, I'll hang in there with you. But that is only because you are the most interesting person I've ever met. And of course there is Annie."

"Good, I'm planning on making your life even more interesting. You're a pretty good guy. Johnny, what if the child's name is Bridget or something different than Annie?"

"We'll call her Bridget. What's in a name?"

We spent the day walking around getting acquainted. We walked through a museum and went into one of the theaters to see a movie. It didn't hold our interest so we got up and left. We walked by a retro soda fountain and shared a cherry coke. We giggled over this like a couple of teenagers. After dinner in a fairly nice restaurant, we returned to our room.

"Let's do a little work."

"What do you mean? What work?"

"We should work on your southern accent. You'll forget and we have to have a plausible excuse for you speaking that way occasionally. We should have more of a cover story too of how we met and fell in love. That's for what we tell my folks. Those scars are going to be seen sometime and we should have something besides the truth to tell about how you acquired them."

"Okay, but can we do it while lying in the bed? I think that would be a great place to work on all of these weighty matters."

"That calls for a shower."

"You first then." I showered and thought about our situation while waiting for Sandy.

When she slid into bed, I didn't hesitate to tell her what I had been thinking. "I think we should have the FBI build you a past that said you had been injured in combat. You can deal with the background before your service by keeping close to or as far from the truth as you wish."

"Boy, I thought you would have something else on your mind and we would be dealing with this afterward."

"Nope, we should do it now. That will leave the rest of the night for other stuff. Besides we aren't really married and there isn't any real need to consummate it tonight."

"I guess you're just being difficult. Your agenda seems to be much different than mine."

"Let's do it my way. You can ask me in the morning if you are sorry I held you off."

"Okay, but right now I'm not happy about it. I get horny sometimes. You'll find that out. Where were we? Okay, cover story about my injuries ... your ideas have merit. I'll go along with your suggestion. Next?"

"Just a question; do you anticipate any of the terrorists searching for you?"

"No, I believe they are all dead. This cell was pretty much on their own with only money and some help coming in from a bigger group. I think there were considered independent contractors. I suppose I do know where some of the other groups are located. I carried messages to them all several times. All of that information should be in the hands of the CIA by now."

"It seems like the government is going to a lot of trouble to hide you. Do they know something that you don't? Take this throw-away marriage we are in. That's pretty elaborate. Tomorrow Burt and Sandy are going to disappear. And John Brooks is going to be married to a woman he doesn't even know what her name is yet."

"Burt, are you getting cold feet about marrying me?"

"No, of course not. Look what I'm getting when I marry you? I'm getting to marry one of the country's foremost spies, although slightly damaged and I'm going to have a child whom I'm sure I will love to replace some of the sadness that has plagued my life. I just wonder why I have to jump through so many hoops."

"As far as being a foremost spy, that's bullshit and you know it. Half the time I don't know when you are serious. Marrying me will be worth it, I promise. And please have faith in your country. Now let me ask you a question; are you interested in my body at all? You haven't seen it yet."

"Is this the time to inspect it?"

"I would think so. I've been hinting around long enough. I'm beginning to think you aren't interested."

"Prepare to be inspected." I went about examining my wife. All of her wounds were still an angry red. And she told me it would take months and months for them to fade. I examined her breast that had been wounded. Except for the surface skin being gnarled and rough, it seemed as if the underlying flesh was okay.

"I may have misled you somewhat. The doctors did tell me there was a ninety percent chance that it would produce some milk if I became pregnant. The nipple isn't damaged at all." I leaned into the nipple and took it between my lips, twirling my tongue over and around it. Immediately a moan of pleasure escaped from Sandy.

"I do believe it will be fine." Sandy was extremely underweight. Maybe being that way brought all the nerves to the skin's surface because everywhere I touched brought forth the same. I asked what her weight was normally and was informed she usually carried thirty-five more pounds. Sandy was getting worked up from my ministrations and it wasn't long before she asked me to make love to her. I was as ready as she.

This wasn't an extended love session. Sandy didn't have the stamina and almost immediately afterward she was sound asleep. It took me awhile longer, but I went to sleep with a satisfied smile on my face.

I came awake with kisses. "Good morning, my husband."

"Good morning to you, my wife. What do you think? We are going to be married for real within a few days. I'm more than willing and I'm glad I agreed to this."

"You say the nicest things, and I know you are going to make me very happy. I'm hungry. I have to get some meat on this bag of bones and the only way I can do that is for you to feed me." We went down to the dining room for breakfast and dawdled over our meal.

"I suppose we should pack up. Caitlin didn't say exactly when she would be coming to get us." Sandy laughed. "It is almost time for Burt and Sandy to disappear. The next stage of our life is opening shortly."

I asked, "I wonder if we will be meeting our child today?"

"She is always on your mind, isn't she?"

"I guess. Can you blame me?" Sandy shook her head.

We didn't have long to wait. Caitlin and the man who had driven the vehicle before were at the door by 10:30. "Peter will take your bags down. All that is left is to leave your key at the desk. It seems you two are getting along okay."