2.
'You will have to killer her.'
Rollin thought about the statute during the entire twelve-hour flight to Belkholt. Did Jim really know what he was asking? The mere suggestion of any of them potentially doing in another team member, men and women they had grown close to and worked with for years, was expecting a lot.
But … this was Cinnamon Carter.
Twenty four hours ago, when they had finally left Jim's apartment, Willy was the first of the solemn three to admit he would not be able to do it. The men stood quietly in the elevator, alone with their own thoughts, as it descended them into the building's parking garage.
"Can you?" Barney finally asked, adding to the heaviness in the air, and looked directly at Rollin.
There was a long intense pause.
"I will do what I have to do." Rollin said but his expression must have betrayed him because neither Barney nor Willy seemed reproachful. This was Cinnamon, after all … and although he had never told any of them of his and Miss Carter's brief love affair it was not difficult to assume something significant had happened during the Purma mission several months ago.
Rollin and Cinnamon had been left alone, their assignment necessitating only two agents on the inside and Barney's electronic wizardry aiding in their escape. At one point Cinnamon, an innocent civil prisoner, was locked in a small claustrophobic cell for many days. Rollin – as a guard – was her only contact. He was one of the few people who knew of Cinnamon's hidden fear, enclosed spaces, and he had seen to it that she was eventually transferred to a cell with a small window. It was the least he could do, telling others her original space would be needed for another prisoner important enough to jail closer to the guard's station. Rollin appreciated the quick and tender 'thank you' in her expression as she was roughly pushed into the new cell.
Although they tried to stay on top of their task, freeing some important political prisoners, there was that one moment when Van Trill – a loathsome night shift Sergeant of the guards - came to her cell. Rollin, playing the man's reprehensible ally, followed closely. Van Trill's intent had been rape and the possible use of other forms of brutality on the woman. The act was not to get information but for his own sadistic pleasure. Only Rollin's persuasive words, telling Van Trill that he had grown fond of their beautiful prisoner and he wanted her for himself, prevented the violence from happening. Van Trill owed his new man a favor for getting him out of a sticky situation with the Captain. He let him have her, leaving Rollin and Cinnamon alone in the cell, assuming Rollin was having his pitiless way with her.
For a moment Cinnamon looked as if she was going to lose it and later Rollin would learn she was beaten and deprived of food for several days before he had first spotted her in the cell-block. Sympathetic, he took her in his arms when they were alone and whispered: "It's almost over." close to her ear, feeling Cinnamon shaking in his embrace. She nodded and he felt the motion, her soft hair brushing his cheek.
"Sir, please. What are you going to do?" she asked like a frightened little girl, in the accent and language of her people.
Rollin was grateful for the woman's bravery but knew she would hate what was on his mind. He wished she would go home, get married, and stay as far away from international intrigue as possible. Cinnamon was too precious to be placed in situations like this. "What am I going to do?" he repeated in a cruel but deceptively mellow tone. No one could see Rollin and Cinnamon but they could hear what was going on, all cells having been tapped. Regretfully, Rollin played it heartless. "Come here, my dove, let me show you how a real man treats a pretty woman …"
She cried, "No … no ..!" Cinnamon then smiled her fatigue and stroked his cheek, acknowledging Rollin's obvious discomfort at the unpleasant words and situation, signifying her understanding.
After the mission he and Cinnamon were given a vacation. No one, with the exception of Barney, suspected they would take it together. To be safe they used assumed names. The couple cruised the Hawaiian Islands together aboard a luxury ship and although the couple had their own spacious cabins they never spent a lonely night in just one room. It was a crazy thing to do but after so many months, years actually, of keeping their hands from one another they were now compelled to jump in with both feet. They played during the day, going off on wonderful tropical excursions, eating mouth-watering meals and shopping … then passionately loving the night away.
However, when the vacation was over, when the magic had dissipated somewhat, and the couple came back down to Earth, they mutually agreed that although it was an incredible experience, something they would never forget, it could never happen again. Cinnamon had told him that she could not allow herself to have profound feelings for him. It would interfere with her ability as a good agent. Rollin concurred. If he allowed himself to fall in love, she would be his focus, not the missions they worked on together. They had their careers to think about, after all.
Still, that closeness and connection remained and probably always would.
Their work prevailed and all seemed to be going so well.
But now, she was being accused of treachery and he was expected to go in, understand the situation, and if Cinnamon had somehow indulged in treason - which he did not believe for one instant - Rollin was to kill her. He did not know yet how he was to do it. A gun or knife would be sloppy and might undo everything they had set in motion in Belkholt. Yet, he had never strangled a woman in his life...
Rollin's eyes closed. The very idea of placing his hands around her throat and choking the life out of Cinnamon Carter, a woman he had been intensely intimate with, was absurd. He could almost see the loathing in her green eyes, the fear, and hear her cries …
Rollin could not face her being abused in Purma. How could he possibly be her executioner now?
"Coffee, sir?" The flight attendant approached and smiled sweetly.
Shaken from his thoughts, Rollin smiled at the girl. "Yes. Thank you."
[]
"So pleased to finally meet you, Mr. Jefferies." David Babcock, the embassy's administrator, shook Rollin's hand as he escorted him into his office, "You will have to excuse the disarray. The Ambassador's secretary has been socializing with one of our in-town guests and I am afraid my business affairs have been lost in the shuffle."
When the door shut behind them the genial attitude lessened slightly. He motioned Rollin to take a chair as he rounded his desk and sat behind it.
Rollin noted Babcock's nervousness. He fed him a few code words and signals to prove they were not at risk. Rollin then whispered, "Any listening devices?"
"None." Babcock replied, "Ever since the first wire was spotted three weeks ago I've had our people do a sweep every twenty-four hours. I can't promise the same for the outside or even the Ambassador's office but we are safe in here."
"Tell me what you know."
"Miss Razzman started well but a few days into her mission she began to behave strangely. She would be gone for hours at a time. I accepted this because I knew she was one of your agents and probably needed the time to carry out Knoll's collapse. But then she started to spend all her time with Knoll and her attitude changed. He is considered a lady's man but I could not believe what I was seeing." His fingers rapped the top of his mahogony desk. "When the two other agents tried to make contact with Miss Razzman she completely discounted them. I am not sure what she is doing but something is not right and your people need to find out if she is a security risk."
Rollin hid trepidation, "Is there more?"
"Yes, I am afraid there is." Babcock's tone was nearly accusatory, "As of yesterday she has moved out of her quarters here in the Embassy and is now living with Andre Knoll."
Rollin stared at the man for a few moments, dumbfounded. If there was one thing he knew about Cinnamon Carter it was that she cherished her independence. Moving in with a man she had known for just a couple of weeks was definitely not her style. Trying to stay laconic, he asked, "What do you know about a Dr. Kwik?"
"Dr. Edwin Kwik. Ostensibly, he's an MD originally from Manchester, England. He is also a psychologist and is quite brilliant. He came to Belkholt from Stockstil, outside of Sweden, where he had worked for the last several years. Other than the fact he is in Knoll's back pocket we know little else about him."
Barney would be in Belkholt soon, Rollin knew, and he would have him do a detailed search into Dr. Kwik. If Cinnamon was worried about him they all should feel concerned. "And what about Andre Knoll? Any new information"
"You know as much about him as we do. Probably more. We've always been suspicious of his under the table antics with regards to the east but now we're a little nervous about a potential assassination attempt coming from his henchmen."
"Assassination? Are you certain?"
"Not entirely but there have been indications."
"Who?"
"The target? One of three; Sheik Ali Adowa, Ambassador Linentov from Victinstone, or Prince Cersha Shadin from Eractintop. All are well-liked and have indicated they may be willing to negotiate with the west. Yet, they are friendly with Knoll as well." He paused and said, "They are all going to be at a reception tonight. Miss Razzman and Knoll will be there too."
"I'll need you to get me into that reception." Rollin said.
"Yes, I can do that. The Ambassador is allowed a guest and since he will not be available I will go in his place. You're with me." Then, "What do you think is going on, Mr. Jeffries?"
"I'm not certain but if I can get Miss Razzman alone for a few minutes I'm certain I'll find out."
[]
It was a lavish affair with music, dancing, food, beautiful socialites and well-deemed men trying to impress those women and other notables.
Champagne glass in hand, wearing an uncomfortable tuxedo, Rollin stood to the back of the room and kept his eyes on the crowd. He had not yet seen Knoll or Cinnamon but with over five hundred guests rambling about, many talking heads to suffer through, it was difficult to keep focused. Rollin had shaken hands and laughed at many unfunny jokes. He had also promised – as a diplomat – to talk with his leaders about embargos, statutes and any number of shared regulations.
It was all rather maddening and he wished Jim Phelps was in the room to run interference.
Rollin had checked into his hotel room a few hours ago and managed to get an oblique message off to Jim, letting him know what he had learned and where he would be going. Barney arrived shortly after the message was sent and Rollin told him about Dr. Kwik. He might be a red-herring but they needed to know something about the mysterious doctor to forestall a wrong move. Meanwhile, Rollin would try to make contact with Cinnamon tonight. She would trust him even if, for some reason, she did not feel she could trust anyone else.
Barney had looked at Rollin steadily when he said this.
Rollin, alerted to a potential slip up, was about to explain about all their years – he and Cinnamon's - of working together. However, their electronics expert merely lifted a hand and told him, with a grin, no explanation was needed. Barney then told Rollin that Willy was on his way, having commandeered a truck. One never knew if a quick get-away was in their future.
"Jim," Barney had said, "is keeping Ambassador Glouster pacified."
Once again, Rollin took in the crowd and was beginning to wonder if Knoll and Cinnamon had decided to skip the party when he heard an excited cry from an elderly over-decorated woman. She was obviously one of the people who had pulled together the reception and the rather over-affectionate hug she gave to the newcomer was amusing.
Then he saw Cinnamon.
Rollin watched as their hostess greeted Cinnamon with a smile and gentle kiss on the cheek. She was lovely as usual, wearing a blue velvet gown, her blond hair pulled back away from her face into a drape of elaborate curls. Her long neck was adorned with an expensive drop of pearls. Rollin looked for signs of nervousness, perhaps even an indication of mental or physical abuse, and although Cinnamon seemed a little uncomfortable she did not appear mistreated.
With deep inhale, Rollin downed his drink, placed the glass on the tray of a passing waiter, and looked for Babcock. He spotted the envoy, got his attention, and soon both were making their way over to Knoll and Cinnamon.
"Andre, how good to see you again." Babcock lifted a hand in greeting.
Knoll was a tall, handsome man, about forty years old, and played the part of a charmer without fault. "David." He grasped Babcock's hand firmly and delivered a smile that did not quite reach his eyes, "Good to see you again." He glanced side-ways at Cinnamon, "I don't suppose the Ambassador has forgiven me yet for hijacking Miss Razzman?"
"It has been a little rough in the Embassy but we are managing. He's expecting a replacement next week."
Rollin eyed Cinnamon steadily and expected to see some acknowledgment on her lovely face but there was none. She gave him a quick look and a gracious smile but her attention was on Knoll and Babcock alone. She appeared to be scrutinizing them, Rollin thought, but could not account for her disregard of him.
"This is James Jefferies." Babcock introduced.
Rollin shook Knoll's hand and glanced again at Cinnamon.
Knoll saw where his attention was located and introduced, "This is Miss Razzman, Mr. Jefferies …"
"No need to introduce us." Rollin said, quickly. "Janine and I are old friends." He smiled at Cinnamon.
She suddenly stared at him, eyes wide, and a little frightened.
It lasted only a moment but it was obvious he had caught her off guard.
Rollin was astonished but he kept his expression leveled.
"You know each other?" Knoll asked, a bit less friendly than before.
"Yes." She said, but now did not attempt to meet Rollin's eyes.
"Years ago." Rollin offered, "We worked together in the Department of Transportation back then." He clarified, "Even a month after you left Simon was still pining away." Rollin chuckled and watched her. He had just tossed two crystal clear messages her way. 'Years ago' was a question: 'Is there trouble?' and 'Simon' made it clear that he was here to help. Rollin waited for the counter sign. She would either talk about a flower arrangement, which meant she could not talk because she was in danger or Cinnamon would mention the wine or champagne at this reception, which would tell him all was well and she would contact him later.
"Good old Simon." She tittered.
Rollin was puzzled. Like the two agents before him, Cinnamon was not communicating. Perhaps things were worse than The Secretary had suspected. He heard the orchestra strike up an elegant tune and, without preamble, took one of her hands. "You owe a dance, Janine." He pulled her ever so gently, "Come along."
Reluctant, she looked over at her companion but relented at Knoll's nod.
Again, Rollin was confused. He held her in his arms and danced close with the woman. "Are you all right?" he whispered into her ear.
"Fine." she said, "I'm just not used to such elaborate parties."
Rollin wondered if Knoll had wired her. Perhaps this was why Cinnamon was acting so odd. Otherwise, now would be the perfect opportunity to let Rollin know what was going on. But then, as they danced, something occurred to him. Cinnamon felt wrong. He had held this woman in his arms in the past, had whispered tenderly into her ear and, yes, had seen her unclothed and vulnerable … Rollin looked closely at her cheek and hair as they moved together.
Rollin Hand was a master of his craft and it was now very obvious to him.
She was wearing a mask. It was excellent, the skin-tone and texture perfect, but it was still a mask.
The woman he was dancing with and embracing was not Cinnamon Carter.
[]
continued ...