THE AFTER MISSION MISSION
I wrote this short story two years ago and did not know what to do with it. I sent it to a friend and she suggested I post it here. I hope you like it.
Although none of their missions could be called simple the latest was less grueling and a little more pleasurable than most. It was pretty much left in Rollin's capable hands, playing the philandering husband of a beautiful American heiress, Cinnamon. They were vacationing and he was, as required, on the hunt for a new conquest.
Rollin managed to break into the safe hidden in Nadia Matei's apartment bedroom. There her lover and master, the Chief of Security in the country of Gheorghe, had stowed some stolen top-secret defense plans. Having obtained the combination of the lock from Barney, who got it by using electronic gadgetry, Rollin easily broke in while Nadia was in her bathroom, preparing for their night of passion. Rollin hid the plans in the lining of his jacket.
From that point on Rollin, confident and playing his part to the hilt, took lovely Nadia to bed. The following morning he left her with a smile on her face and met up with the rest of the team on their private flight back to the United States.
"It went off without a hitch." he told them and turned his jacket over to Jim Phelps.
"She was a pretty woman. I bet it did." their Chief quipped and took his seat to the back of the plane.
Rollin slid in next to Cinnamon who was looking out of the plane's window, a little forlorn.
"Are you all right?" he asked her as the plane took off and she had yet to say a word to him.
"I'm okay." she whispered.
"Are you sure?"
She turned to look at him, expression oddly blank. "Yes."
Rollin pulled out a magazine from the pocket in front of him and started to read as she turned again to look out of the window. There was something wrong and he hoped she would open up later. It was going to be a long flight and Cinnamon would have to talk with him sometime.
They were served a meal around noon and Rollin noted that Cinnamon picked at her food. There was definitely something on her mind. She was on her third glass of wine and she fumbled incessantly with her cigarette, lighting it, taking a drag then squashing the lit tip and placing it in the chair's ashtray to light it again later.
Cinnamon Carter, although a friend and workmate, had always been a private person. She was a woman with a well-ordered life outside of her work with the IMF. He had not noticed any signs of sadness or anxiety while their latest mission was in the planning stages. They had been happy with the opportunity to play husband and wife again; a part they played well. But perhaps the mission had brought up some uncomfortable memories. Rollin suddenly wondered if Cinnamon was lamenting a love affair gone wrong. It could have happened just before they left America.
The flight attendant removed their trays and glasses.
When she had gone Rollin turned to Cinnamon, thinking she might need assurance, and said: "Last night Nadia told me she thought I was crazy."
Cinnamon looked at him, vaguely curious.
"She wondered why a man, with such a beautiful wife, would have an affair with the likes of her."
"Why, indeed." Cinnamon said, blandly. "And, of course, you reassured her that she was worthy - by sleeping with her and staying all night."
Rollin's eyes widened, surprised by the scorn in her tone. If he did not know better he would swear Cinnamon was jealous ... and that was not possible. Was it? Although he and Cinnamon had worked together and teased one another often there was no true romance. She dated other men and he saw other women. They always got along well. It was a good working relationship and they were friends.
Yet ... There were times when he experienced a more than passing interest in Cinnamon, felt a tug of a green-eyed monster at the men she seduced for the IMF, but he put it down to the fact that she was a good woman, a wonderful lady, and he admired and respected her. And yes, she was gorgeous, a man's dream lover or mistress. But more than that, she was smart ... and ... It never occurred to Rollin that occasionally Cinnamon too might experience resentment when he was asked to entice a member of the opposite sex for one of their missions.
"Did you have to stay with her the whole night?" Cinnamon asked, her voice catching ever so slightly. "It was not a requirement of the mission, Rollin. Jim simply wanted you to get the plans."
"My role was a philanderer, Cinnamon." Rollin spoke as low as her, "It would have been suspicious if I hadn't followed through."
"I suppose you're right." Again, she looked out of the window, appearing disappointed. It was strange how different it was for a man. Usually, for Cinnamon, the mission was to have her seduce, get what they needed, then get her out before she was compromised. But for a male agent, in the same circumstance, it did not seem to matter as much. As a matter of fact, Phelps practically slapped Rollin on the back with a brotherly bond, pleased by the way he handled himself with Miss Nadia.
Cinnamon wished she could be more understanding, to feel removed, and take the mission and Rollin's actions for what they were. It was a well-executed and accomplished mission. And obviously, he was never going to see that girl again. But, as she had long suspected, Cinnamon was falling for their master of disguise. Damn his charm. The seducer of men had been seduced by a man who was not even trying.
Rollin looked at Cinnamon, saw the uncertainty in her expression as she looked once again out of the plane's window, and tried to make sense out of her anguish.
Cinnamon, coming to a decision and with a small clearing of her throat, turned and smiled at him. "Don't mind me, Rollin. I guess I'm still in the part." she said, "After all, you were my husband. I think any woman, even an heiress, would feel jealousy if she found the man she loved was fooling around on her." The smile widened slightly and she patted his hand on the arm rest, "I'll be fine by the time we land." she assured.
Miss Carter was a convincing actress. After all, it was just a mission ...
Rollin felt a bit more relieved, even if he did not entirely believe her story, and pleased she was working through whatever emotional problem she was experiencing. Still, he could not help feeling lauded as well. If he had been jealous over Cinnamon's exploits during missions it was flattering to know she could feel the same way about him.
"I'm going to take a nap." she said, reclining her chair.
"Good idea." Rollin did the same. Then, after a moment, he reached over and took her hand in his, "Cinnamon ..." he whispered.
Oddly timid, she looked at his hand holding hers, "Yes."
"We're sleeping together."
Cinnamon's eyes widened then rolled. She slapped his hand away but could not help the chuckle that parted her lips. "Idiot." she said and closed her eyes.
Rollin gazed at her and smiled.
THE END.