"What do you want?" Aasar Khan remained near the door of the opulent office suite.

"Come in," Tasneem barked, adjusting her hijab over her glossy dark hair. "Sit down."

Aasar reluctantly moved forwards into her lair and sat awkwardly across from her.

Tasneem's mouth curved into an amused sneer. "You've been avoiding me."

"I've been busy," Aasar scowled. Too right he'd been avoiding her.

"Do you remember what I said?" Tasneem snarled, her chin jutting aggressively.

Aasar assessed her, unable to recall the exact moment when the attractive, overly enthusiastic young ISI agent had become this zealous political monster.

"You said his head or mine…" Aasar lifted his chin and looked her squarely in the eye.

Tasneem glared back and gestured to the empty in-tray on her desk. "Well, I don't see his head…"

"Then he must have escaped," Aasar shrugged. "Peter Quinn is black ops. Held in very high regard by his colleagues for good reason."

"I have received word from a very reliable Syrian source," Tasneem realigned the paperwork on her desk. "That this Peter Quinn character has been spotted in Aleppo."

"It doesn't surprise me," Aasar averted his eyes momentarily. He'd heard that himself. An unexpected telephone call from a bereft, drunken Carrie who was safe, but lonely in the United States.

"Did you help him?" Tasneem couldn't contain her disgust at the thought.

"Of course not," Aasar retorted. Help Quinn? No. Turn a blind eye. Maybe.

"I'm glad to hear that," Tasneem glowered. "But it doesn't solve my dilemma."

"I'm sorry I can't be more helpful," Aasar stood up to leave.

"As I don't have his head…" Tasneem's gaze flitted over Aasar's masculine form, accentuated by his military uniform.

"Don't tell me," Aasar sighed and rolled his eyes. "You need mine."

"I'm afraid so," Tasneem frowned. "It's such a shame you have failed so pathetically."

"Do whatever you need to do," Aasar's patience ran out and he gestured to the door. "In the meantime, I've got work to do."

"I'm sorry, Aasar," Tasneem sighed dramatically. "But you understand I must take firm action against all traitors."

"Traitor?" Aasar hissed incredulously. "Me?! Everything I do is for the good of Pakistan. If you want to see a traitor to this country… then take a good look in the mirror, Tasneem."

"I can't believe there was a time when I respected you Colonel Khan," Tasneem leant back in her chair seething. "How times have changed."

"Indeed," Aasar looked down at her in disgust.

Tasneem tapped her fingers on the mahogany desk, then pushed her chair back and made a show of crossing her legs seductively. Her silky trouser suit accentuating every curve. "It's a shame to waste such an opportunity."

"Opportunity?" Aasar arched a dark eyebrow.

"Meet me later," Tasneem smiled generously. "You can fuck me tonight before I have you killed."

Aasar's jaw dropped open before he regained his stoic composure. "No thanks."

"Still pining for your American whore?" Tasneem's lips contorted bitterly.

"Carrie Mathison has done more for Pakistan than you ever will," Aasar growled. "She believes in fighting terrorists, not working with them."

"You certainly make a good couple. You're as delusional as she is…" Tasneem spat. "I can't believe you still think the enemy is our friend,"

Aasar bit his lip, then he bent down nose to nose with Tasneem. "You're an idiot working with Haqqani. You think you'll still be sat here if those terrorists ever fully take control? You're like a small child playing with fire."

"Colonel Khan, are you really so naive?" Tasneem suppressed a chuckle. "Now the question is are you as naive in the bedroom as you are politically? I'd really like to find out before it's too late."

Aasar Khan spluttered as he backed away. "You're crazy."

Tasneem pouted. "You will survive a little longer if we can come to some arrangement?"

Aasar chuckled cynically to himself as he departed. Two years ago he'd have jumped at the chance to come to an arrangement that involved sex with Tasneem Qureshi. How times had changed.

Tasneem winced as Aasar slammed the door. She switched on her computer monitor and rewatched the grainy CCTV footage of the couple walking together. The moonlight glinting off the woman's blonde hair. She picked up her cell phone and called her contact.

"You're right," Tasneem felt her bile rising. "They're holding hands. I want them dead."