Can You Save Me Chapter 3: Mama Said Knock You Out (Part 1), a Covert Affairs + Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Crossover fanfic

Can You Save Me

Disclaimer:
As always, I own nothing.

Rating:
T

Genre:
Romance/Hurt/Comfort

Pairing:
Coulsye

Lyrics Used:
Five Finger Death Punch "Mama Said Knock You Out"

Author's Note:
Just a head's up, I used Google Translate for the French, so, I apologize if the French is terrible.

Mama Said Knock You Out

I'm gonna knock you out | Mama said knock you out | Mama said knock you out | Mama said knock you out | Mama said knock you out

While watching Ms. Devrient, Phil heard the encrypted cell that Annie's tech operative, Auggie, had given him ring. "So, you've been there for three days, already." His sister stated, by way of greeting, before he'd even been given the chance to say a single word. "What have you learned?" She asked, her tone completely professional, almost clinical.

"I've learned she likes routines...She clearly has a good eye for accessories..." Phil began, sounding just as clinical, with a slight smirk on his face as he could almost hear his sister grinning at his remark about the accessories. "She's not crazy about her co-workers..." Before Phil could go any further, his sister cut him off.

"You do realize you will eventually have to initiate contact at some point." Annie couldn't resist prodding her brother.

"Is that your way of telling me you miss me?" Phil joked. He loved taunting his younger sister whenever the opportunity presented itself.

"Yeah, sure." Annie only half-teased. "Joke now, just wait until the bean-counters get a hold of ya..." That part was partially true. The accountants at Langley were far stricter than those at S.H.I.E.L.D. "Don't expect those excuses to hold water with accounting." She warned, lightly. "Or Joan, for that matter. Ya know? My boss?" Annie taunted. Letting her brother off the hook, Annie ended with "Just stay focused, find your in, and all will be fine."

"I think..." Phil began, following Ms. Devrient into an art gallery. "I have an opening..." He explained, glancing around. "Nineteenth century portraits."

"You call that an opening?" Annie challenged, with slight amusement to her voice.

"Got any good conversation starters?" Phil asked, curiously.

"Just the ones Auggie's given me..." Annie chuckled. "But, those all require that you not be to see..."

"Thanks." Phil replied, flatly, before ending the call and deciding to just dive right in. After all, it is what he did best.

The Next Day

Okay, so, the art gallery had been a bust. Phil Coulson was not the kind of man to let one little set-back get him down. Plus, it looked as if his luck was looking up while Ms. Devrient's was taking a turn for the worse. Phil watched as a man dressed in all black from head-to-toe snatched Ms. Devrient's purse right off her shoulder.

"Arrêtez cet homme! Il a volé mon sac à main!" Ms. Devrient screamed as the thief ran off with her purse. " Arrêtez! Voleur!" Jumping into action, Phil ran over to the distressed young woman as everyone else around them ignored her pleas.

"Excusez-moi, madame." Phil greeted. "Êtes-vous d'accord?" He asked, checking on the distressed young woman.

"Que l'homme!" Salma screamed, pointing after the thief. "Il a volé mon sac à main!" She screamed, pleading for Phil's help.

"Attendez ici." Phil instructed, gesturing for Salma to stay put as he took off running after the thief. Salma, meanwhile, watched in shock as some strange man ran after the man that had stolen her purse, as he tackled the man to the ground. This new stranger pummeled the thief with combat skills unlike any she'd ever seen. Il ressemble à un ninja d'une sorte de film … She thought to herself as she watched the stranger, in awe, as he returned with her purse in his hand.

"Il vous, mademoiselle." Phil spoke, rather charmingly.

"Merci! Merci beaucoup!" Salma replied, gratefully, rummaging through the purse, verifying that all of her belongings were, in fact, present.

"J'espère que tout est là." Phil added, shyly.

"Oui! Oui, tout est là!" Salma replied, smiling brightly. "Je ne sais pas comment je peux jamais vous rembourser!" She cried, throwing her arms around Phil gratefully. As they broke the embrace, an idea came to her. "Oh! Je sais!" She proclaimed.

"Did you read him in, yet?" Joan asked, curiously, entering Annie's office.

"Is that Joan?" Phil asked, curiously, hearing his sister's boss and friend on the other end of the line.

"Hello, Phil." Joan Campbell greeted, grinning cheekily.

"Good to hear your voice." Phil added, smiling. "Read me in on what?" He asked curiously.

"There's been increased chatter out of Damascus." Annie explained, in full Agent Coulson mode. "We think Makmoon Kanaan is on the move."

"'Chemical Kanann's here?" Phil asked, surprised. "In Paris?"

"We don't know." Joan replied. "It would be lovely if you could stop people watching and answer that question." She added, cheekily.

"Okay..." Phil began, his mind already in overdrive. "Can I get something to ID him with?" He asked, trying to formulate a plan of action.. "A photo-"

"We would if we could, but, we can't." Annie chimed in, cutting her brother off, mid-thought. "'Chemical Kanann' is a ghost."

"Twenty years flouting IAEA non-proliferation sanctions and we still don't know what he looks like." A frustrated Jai Wilcox interjected.

"Good to hear from you, too, Jai." Phil added, off-handedly. "Well, I really should be going. I have a date with Ms. Devrient."

"Ooh, really?" Annie taunted, grinning wildly.

"Yes, I saved her purse from a street thief and she insisted on buying me a drink to repay me." Phil replied, proudly.

"Well, have fun." Annie replied, smiling. "And, remember...Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"It's okay if you'd rather speak in English." Salma stated by way of greeting as Phil joined her at a small wine bar.

"Thank you." Phil replied, gratefully. "I'm in Paris on business and, I'm still working on my French."

"Really?" Salma asked, through her thick French accent. "I couldn't tell. Your French is very good." She complimented, flirtatiously.

"Well..." Phil began, returning her flirtation, as he raised his glass of wine. "In that case, merci beaucoup." After they toasted Phil's French, Phil added. "So, I'm sorry to ask, but...My sister happens to be something of a connoisseur of designer handbags. That one must have set you back a fortune. I'm glad I was able to recover it for you."

"Yes, well..." Salma replied, sheepishly. "I bought that bag after my fiance left me. I couldn't really afford it, but..."

"Mmm..." Phil added, thoughtfully, downing a sip of his wine before replacing the glass on the table. "I believe Annie would call that 'Retail Therapy'." He added, cheekily.

"'Retail Therapy'." Salma repeated, thoughtfully. "I like that. Works so much better than ice cream." She added, before her smile fell. "At least until the credit runs out."

"You need a better paying job." Phil replied, warmly.

"Or a better breed of fiance." Salma argued.

"Mmm...Sometimes, the two can go hand-in-hand." Phil replied, flirtatiously.

Salma couldn't resist smiling and chuckling flirtatiously at Phil's comment before remembering her current job. "I really should be going. The Embassy will want me to report my bag missing."

"But, you got it all back in one piece." Phil argued, hoping to delve a little further with Ms. Devrient.

"I know, but, they have their rules." Salma insisted. "They will want me to change all the locks and passwords."

Finally deciding on going for the Hail Mary Pass, Phil replied "I know this is completely last-minute, and entirely forward...But, I have this black tie thing to go to, tonight." He spoke, peering up at Salma seductively. "I hate going to these things alone. It's so boring."

"You want to go with me?" Salma asked, surprised. "Tonight?"

"Do you already have plans?" Phil asked, curiously.

"Well, no." Salma admitted. "Oh, I don't know. I...I kind of met this man, yesterday..."

"You little minx. You work so fast." Phil grinned. "What's his name? Where'd you meet him?"

"His name is George. But, it's nothing, really!" Salma assured Phil. He was very attractive and she didn't want to miss any opportunities. "Not yet, anyway. But, he say he was going to call."

"You're gonna go home and wait by the phone?" Phil challenged, smirking. "When you could be out with a sure thing? Oh! Trust me..." He added, leaning back in his chair as he smiled proudly. "You gotta play harder to get." In that moment, Phil knew-from the look in Salma's eyes-he had her right where he wanted her.

Later That Night

Walking into the gala hall, Phil smiled warmly as he slipped an arm around Salma's waist as he led her through the doors. Gazing around the hall, Salma took Phil by the hand and asked in wonder "You go to parties like this for work, every night?!"

"Not every night." Phil replied, smiling.

"Oh! I need to find the ladies' room." Salma replied, sheepishly.

"Oh. Okay." Phil smiled. "I'll meet you right over there." He added, gesturing to an empty place at the bar.

"Okay." Salma smiled, setting off in search of the ladies' room.

Walking over to the bar, Phil smiled at the bartender as he asked. "Deux cocktails au champagne, s'il vous plaît." He asked, politely.

"C'est un costume de bonne mine." A young blonde greeted, approaching him at the bar.

"Merci." Phil replied, smiling politely, before turning his attention back to the bar.

"Il serait mieux sur mon plancher de la chambre." The young woman added, batting her eyes, seductively.

Oh, please...Phil thought to himself, exasperatedly. "Pas dans cette vie." Phil spoke icily, glaring daggers at the young woman. Evidently, that did the trick as he watched the young woman stalk off.

"Your sister didn't believe in Kismet." Phil was surprised by the smooth voice of his sister's old friend, Eyal Levin. "Bonsoir."

"Bonsoir!" Phil smiled, shaking the Isreali man's hand. "This is-"

"A pleasant surprise, I hope." Eyal interjected, smiling.

"It is. Very much so." Phil replied. "Who knew you were a patron of the arts!"

"Well, what can I say?" Eyal asked cheekily. "I like beautiful things."

Well, from what Annie's told me about this guy, I know he's not talking about me...Phil thought to himself, analyzing the situation, as he always did. And, he knew Eyal worked for Mossad. There was only one logical conclusion. "That tux does suit you..." He stated, bating the Mossad agent.

"Well, I'm contractually obligated to wear it every time I'm in Paris." Eyal remarked proudly. "It's good for the image." Eyal couldn't help noticing that Phil's attention was elsewhere. "You seem distracted. Am I keeping you from something?"

"You are, actually." Phil replied, only slightly annoyed. "You don't mind if we reschedule this reunion, do you?"

"Enough said. I have business to attend to, myself." Eyal smiled, graciously.

"Thank you, Eyal." Phil replied as a relieved smile played across his face.

"Let's consider it a courtesy, from...one professional to another." Eyal interjected, bating the senior S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. "By the way, that rescue you did with the bag...Excellent spycraft, there...Well played. Much more elegant than the titanium stunt your sister pulled in Zurich."

That was the moment realization dawned on the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. "How did you know?" Phil asked, suspiciously, as Salma sauntered up to Eyal.

"Vous êtes une source constante de surprise." Salma cooed, smiling up at Eyal.

"Mon petit colibri..." Eyal cooed in response, before kissing her cheek. That was when that Phil knew Eyal must have been on Ms. Devrient's scent, too.

"You two know each other?" Phil fought to keep the suspicion out of his voice for Ms. Devrient's sake, choosing to replace it with an ever-so-subtle tint of jealousy.

"Remember that man I told you about..." Salma replied, guiltily, gesturing toward Eyal with her pocketbook. "The one I just met...This is him."

To that Phil could only smile politely as he glared at Eyal. "Pleased to meet you." Eyal spoke grinning, evilly.

"Pleasure's all mine, George." Phil replied, the same polite smile plastered on his face.

"Thank you so much for bringing me, tonight." Salma cooed, smiling at Phil. "I feel just like Cinderella."

"Ah! Perfect timing!" Eyal spoke, as the bartender brought the drinks that Phil had ordered, accepting them in Phil's place. "Shall we?" He asked, handing Salma her drink, guiding her out to the dance floor. To which, Phil merely responded with a look that clearly said You son of a bitch...

"It's surreal, isn't it?" Salma mused. "How small is the world?! And, you two have so much in common." She observed.

"Really?" Phil asked, smiling politely. In truth, he was looking forward to seeing what crock of crap Eyal had sold her. Mostly to see if he could poke any holes in the Mossad agent's story.

"George exports antiquities out of Los Angeles and Phil represents the Smithsonian Institute." Salma observed, smiling between the two attractive new men in her life.

"Well..." Eyal began, smiling. "Perhaps we should talk, sometime." He added, passing Phil a business card.

"Oh, we should definitely talk, later..." Phil replied, subtly digging at Eyal as he accepted the likely phoney business card. "How, exactly, did you two meet?" He asked, curiously, turning his head to face Salma.

"That's a funny story." Salma began, smiling fondly, at the memory. "Because, it was here, in the museum...Just yesterday..."

"Right here?" Phil questioned, suspiciously.

"No, it was actually the nineteenth century portraits..." Eyal smiled, warmly, at Salma.

"Yes..." Salma agreed, clearly smitten with Eyal. "I was by myself, after work, and...From out of nowhere, George came in...Asking me about the...Brushstrokes?" She asked, hoping she got the details right. Phil couldn't resist a disgusted glance at Eyal as Salma finished her story. "And, before I knew it...We spent the next nine hours together."

"It's Kismet." Phil replied, smirking evilly.

"That's exactly what George said." Salma replied, surprised and excited by Phil's knowledge of 'George's exact words. "Did you hear that, George?"

"I feel like dancing." Eyal smiled as Phil recognized the comment for what it truly was-a desperate attempt to change the subject. "Would you care to dance?"

"I would love to..." Salma smiled, as she accepted the proffered hand. "Will you be okay on your own, Phil?" She asked, apologetically.

"Oh, yeah..." Phil played the set back off, coolly while his mind went into overdrive trying to figure out how to spin the situation back into his favor. The sooner I can get out of here, the sooner I can get back to Skye...He thought to himself. "I'll be fine!" He assured Salma, confidently, as she was whisked off to the dance floor.

As Salma was whisked away, Phil pulled out his CIA encrypted cell, dialing Annie's number. "Hey, what's up?" Annie asked, cheekily, as she answered her brother's call.

"We have a problem." Phil replied. Annie sat bolt upright at the obvious agitation in her brother's voice. "Turns out Mossad's interested in Ms. Devrient as well. They sent Eyal Levin."

"Mossad?! Eyal?!" Annie repeated, in shock. "Why would they be after Salma? Well, I doubt they'd send him on a fishing expedition. They must have a beat on something..."

"Have you heard any chatter?" Phil asked, curiously.

"Unfortunately, no." Annie admitted, just as frustrated as her brother. "We're just as frustratedly out of the loop as you are. The Israeli desk is checking on the deconfliction protocol, I went ahead and set up a line of credit with the clearing bank in case you end up in a bidding war."

"And, in the meantime?" Phil asked, impatiently.

"In the meantime..." Annie sighed, frustratedly, racking her brain for alternative plan. "Just..." Yeah, I got nothin'... She had to admit it. For the first time-in a long time-she was truly at a loss as to how to proceed. "Just use your best judgment..." Annie finally sighed, mentally admitting defeat.

Ending the call, Phil sighed in defeat as he spotted the young blonde from earlier. Lolling his head back, Phil resigned himself to asking her to dance-if for no other reason than to buy himself some time to think of a plan of attack for Salma. Phil just decided to bite the bullet and cross the dance-floor over to her. "Voulez-vous danser?" He asked, extending his hand to her in a very cavalier manner.

"Je savais que vous venez autour." The blonde smirked, triumphantly, as she accepted the proffered hand. "Vous êtes américain, n'êtes-vous pas?" She asked, curiously, as Phil forcefully lead her around the dance-floor, purposefully guiding her into the perfect position for him to keep a watchful eye on Eyal and Salma.

"Comment savez-vous?" Phil asked, feigning curiosity rather successfully given the circumstances.

"Lucky guess..." The blonde replied, slightly out of breath from being so forcefully spun around the dance-floor.

Watching Eyal and Salma separate on the dance-floor, Phil unceremoniously dismissed his dance partner. "I'm going to go freshen up." Salma told Eyal, politely excusing herself, leaving the two men alone to talk.

"So, they have you seducing secretaries, now?" Phil asked, cheekily. "And, with that tired old line about 'Kismet'..." He tisked, tauntingly.

"You're upset, I get that." Eyal patronized as Phil rolled his eyes. "You're so focused on following Salma, you never realized you were being followed yourself. Looks like Tahiti's caused you to lose some of your edge." Before Phil could question Eyal's knowledge of Tahiti, the Mossad operative powered onward. "Listen, don't beat yourself up. I'm really good at this."

Oh, give me a frickin' break...Phil thought to himself, annoyed with Eyal's cavalier arrogance. "So, you like to tail me?" He scoffed.

"So..." Eyal continued on as if Phil hadn't even spoken. "How are you planning on turning her? It's the hardest thing we're tasked with. Make the wrong pitch at the wrong time in the wrong way, could all blow up in your face." The S.H.I.E.L.D. operative wasn't an idiot. He knew exactly what was going on. Eyal was trying to psyche him out; throw him off his game.

"How are you going to get her to spy for Mossad?" Phil asked, cheekily, turning the Mossad operative's own tactics against him.

"I'm not." Eyal replied, coolly.

"You're not?" Phil challenged.

"No." Eyal smiled, arrogantly. "I'm going to convince an impressionable young woman to do a favor for a new lover. It's a tactic tested in the field, many times." Eyal bragged. "She will never know me as anything other than George Yakos. A business man from Cypress."

"Don't get too cocky, Neshema." Phil warned, taunting Eyal with his own personal petname for Phil's baby sister. "I still have a few cards up my sleeve."

"I'd keep them a little closer to my chest." Eyal advised. "Something your baby sister still has yet to fully master."

"That was awkward." Salma announced, rejoining the two men. "I just ran into somebody from work." Glancing across the room, Eyal and Phil noticed a man-clearly from the Embassy-staring at them, suspiciously. "He asked me what I was doing here." The two spies replied in unison.

"What did you tell him?"

"What did you say?"

"That we're all friends from university and that George, here, was a pervy art collector, hoping to get lucky." Salma smiled at Eyal, cheekily.

"That sounds about right." Phil replied, grinning wickedly, the amusement more than evident in his voice.

"This place is feeling a bit tired." Salma interjected, carefully. "How about we get out of here." She added.

"Perfect idea." Eyal agreed. "Shall we?" He asked, slyly forcing Phil and Salma out of the hall.

"Finally...Some privacy..." Salma sighed, as they all settled into the limo, out front.

"It's getting late." Phil added, turning to face Eyal. "George, can we drop you somewhere?" He asked, curiously.

"What are you talking about?" Eyal grinned, wickedly, recognizing the S.H.I.E.L.D. operative's tactics. "The night is still young. I know this great little bar..."

"Why don't we just drive around a bit, okay?" Salma interjected, staring straight at Phil, as she spoke.

Nodding, Phil maintained eye contact with Salma for another beat before turning his attention to the limo driver. "Continuez pendant un certain temps, s'il vous plaît?" He asked, politely.

"D'accord." The driver replied, absently, as the three passengers in the back went on about their business.

"Nothing like this ever happened to me, before..." Salma mused, staring off into space. "I settle down with the first guy to ever show me any interest and he dumped me." She pressed onward, confusing her two new suitors. "And, now there's is one stunning man..." She mused, looking to Eyal. "And, one charming, handsome man..." She added, looking to Phil. "...Both vying for my attention..." She mused. Suddenly, something clicked in Phil's mind. She was onto them. "And, I can only come up with one explanation..." This is it...Phil thought to himself as he patiently waited for Salma to finish her thought. "You want access to the Embassy." One thing was for sure. Salma Devrient did not beat around the bush.

"Don't be silly..." Eyal laughed, dismissively. Although, Phil could see the panic in the Israeli spy's eyes.

Simultaneously, Phil spoke over Eyal. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm pretty sure Phil works with the C.I.A." Salma deadpanned.

"Well, not officially...Just sort of filling in for someone...I'm on loan..." Phil mused, defensively.

"And, if I had to guess..." Salma pressed on, entirely ignoring Phil's interjection. "'George', here...it's not your real name, is it?" Salma asked, with a knowing smirk. "It's probably MI6?" She guessed. "You seem too Jewish to be an actual Mossad officer." She mused, turning away as Eyal offered her a look that suggested she'd gone insane.

"Too Jewish?!" Eyal demanded, incredulously.

"I think you've had too much to drink." Phil mused, successfully feigning concern.

"I think you've lost it..." Eyal insisted.

"Whatever..." Salma replied, dismissively. "Mamoon Kanaan's coming to town, tomorrow. And, I know where..." She added, tauntingly, enticing the two spies riding with her. "I've decided to auction off what I know to the highest bidder." She added, baiting the two spies. "Vous pouvez me déposer, ici, merci." She added, turning her attention to the driver.

"Oui, madame..." The driver replied, absently.

"If I'm right..." Salma began, as the limo pulled over. "I will be waiting for your offers. If I'm wrong, well..." She began, more gently, as she turned to Eyal. "It was fun while it lasted." She spoke genuinely as Eyal merely stepped out of the limo to allow her to exit the vehicle.

Phil was merely left, sitting in the back seat, shell-shocked. Sure, he'd been made a handful of times, in the past. But, never by his own mark. He had to admit that Salma Devrient was far more clever and savvy than he had initially believed. As Eyal re-entered the limo, Phil remained silent until it became clear that Eyal would not be the one to break the silence. "I totally did not see that one, coming, did you?" He asked, curiously.

"What is it about you Americans that brings out the worst in everyone you meet?!" Eyal demanded, angry and frustrated beyond anything he could ever even begin to put into words. Phil had absolutely no response to that asinine comment. Instead, he chose to direct his gaze out the window, rather than taking the bait from his Mossad equivalent.

Once he was alone, Phil called into Langley. "Where do we stand?" Annie asked.

"I've got Salma on the other line." Phil replied, still frustrated by the interactions with Eyal and Salma. "She says we've got a deal at fifty."

"What happened to thirty?" Annie questioned, uncomfortable with trying to get fifty out of the CIA accountants.

"Thirty was half an hour ago." Phil responded, his voice as cold as steel. "Before Mossad made their final bid."

Truthfully, Annie hated the situation every bit as much as Phil did. "All right..." Annie sighed. "Let me check with Joan."

Meanwhile, Phil could hear Jai Wilcox in the background, once again. "Why does it feel like we're bidding against ourselves?!" He demanded, incredulously. "We're supposed to be allies!"

Half ignoring Jai's comment, Annie fired off a text to her boss.

50?

As they waited for the response, Jai added "And, there is no way Joan authorizes fifty! Not even to get a beat on Kanaan."

As her phone beeped with a new text message, Annie replied to both her brother and Jai. "And, we are confirmed at fifty thousand. Make this happen, Phil." She added, directly to her brother, before smirking playfully. "And, I'll see what I can make happen with you and a certain hacktivist..."

Shaking his head at his sister's offer, Phil clicked over to Salma's line. "Salma?" He greeted. "We got a deal." He had to admit that maybe this would be better than trying to run some stupid game on the poor woman, monopolizing on vulnerability. And, with any luck, maybe it could get him back to Skye and his team that much sooner if he got straight down to business.

"Bonsoir, Phil Coulson..." Salma replied, contentedly, as she ended the call.

The Next Morning

Phil waited, patiently, at the coffee shop where he and Salma had arranged to meet for Phil to accept her intel and seal their deal as a CIA asset. However, about three coffees later, and it became clear that Ms. Devrient would not be attending their meeting. Phil's patience was wearing rather thin. He'd been away from home for the better part of a week, now, and he was growing rather tired of this game. All he wanted was to get back to his team and show Skye that she had absolutely nothing to worry about. That the mission had been a success...Well, mostly, a success...He was tired of waiting for Ms. Devrient and decided to take matters into his own hands.

After paying the tab, Phil left the coffee shop and hailed a cab to Salma's apartment building. Striding through the door, he took the elevator up to Salma's floor. He had been prepared to give the young secretary a rather thorough piece of his mind when the elevator doors opened to reveal none other than Eyal Levin standing before him. Smiling cockily, the Mossad operative greeted him with "Typical CIA...Always taking short-cuts..."

Oh, how Phil was so not in the mood to play Mr. Levin's childish little games, right now. Right now, all he wanted to do was meet with Salma and seal the deal and go home. "Salma was supposed to meet me at the café at eleven..." Phil greeted, curtly, shoving past Eyal to storm down the hall to Salma's apartment.

"And me, at the hotel, at eleven-thirty..." Eyal replied, following Phil down the hall.

Suddenly a sickening realization came over Phil. "She took both our offers?!" Phil asked, incredulously.

"I'm beginning to like this girl, more and more..." Eyal replied, playfully, as they arrived at Salma's apartment only to find that the door had been kicked in. Instinctively, Phil and Eyal both reached for their guns as Eyal entered the apartment, first. "Salma?" He called, searching for the young secretary.

Once they entered the apartment, Phil stayed in the living room, taking a more thorough look around at the scene before him while Eyal explored the rest of the apartment in search of Ms. Devrient. From what he saw, the apartment had been completely ransacked. Continuing his own investigation, Phil slowly moved through the hall with his gun still raised, as he surveyed the damage. Whoever was responsible was definitely looking for something particular. The question was: Did they find it? Continuing his search, Phil found Eyal in the bedroom crouched over the lifeless form of Salma Devrient with his fingers pressed to her neck.

Eyal didn't have to say a word. It was obvious to both men that the young woman was dead. The bruise around her neck where a wire had strangled the life out of her made that painfully clear. Fishing through the young woman's planner, Phil began searching for clues as to who had taken Ms. Devrient's life.

Rising from his position hovering over Ms. Devrient's body, Eyal began searching through the rest of the apartment before being shoved to the floor, causing his gun to misfire. The gunshot drew Phil's attention just in time to see a man running through the apartment. Raising his gun once more, Phil raced out of the apartment with Eyal at his side as they chased the man down the hall. Eyal managed to tackle the young man to ground before the younger man rolled himself over on top of the Mossad operative, knocking his gun down the elevator shaft.

Author's Note 2:
I could continue this chapter on a little longer, but, it's 13 pages in Open Office as is...I think I'll leave it here to make it a little more approachable. I promise to continue this one just as soon as I get the next chapter of "Sometimes, It's Easier To Lie" posted. In the meantime, enjoy!