CHAPTER 20

DIEGO'S FRIENDS

For the last two years I had been following the money. I had tapped into Diego's computers at work, home, and even his laptop, which he took everywhere. In all the time we were together, a year and a half, I had only been caught at the computer once, but I had already arranged for a printout of a map from mapquest and when he came into the room, I hit the print screen which printed the map of where I was going that afternoon. He picked it up from the printer and said nothing to me. I knew from his demeanor that he wasn't fazed or suspicious of me.

The maze of holding companies that he had setup throughout the world, washing the money which came from Yuri's chain of supply and demand, was pure genius. I wasn't a financial wizard, although the Company had tried to give me a crash course in "Money Laundering 101." They finally decided that I would simply download accounts and correspondence, get the names of the companies and contributors and then let them put the puzzle together.

I had reached my primary goal within the year, but since Diego was such a goldmine of information, they had me stay on as his paramour. It was a difficult assignment. Diego was a brilliant financier, but when he wasn't working, he wanted 24/7 attention and that made it difficult for me to do my job for The Company.

We actually got along very well and, for the most part, I didn't have to fake that. There were times when he was a little too macho or too jealous that made me cringe. But, he was also cultured, musically talented (violin and guitar) and playful. He had so much money that we could go and do just about whatever we wanted to do provided he had the time off.

I had to study Diego's habits and quirks before I met him. I also met with a profiler who told me the kind of woman that would appeal to Diego. And then I became that woman. I had to be more detached, less demonstrative yet be more seductive and sensual.

I knew right away when I pulled the tie pin out of the bag that, although it was a real three carat diamond, it was actually a cover for a bugging device. I hated giving these kinds of presents, it made me more vulnerable because I wasn't in control of the equipment. I met up with Diego in Rome and we immediately went out to dinner so that he could wear his square diamond tie pin. Several friends commented on it and he was obviously pleased with the attention.

"Darling, I have a business associate coming over to the apartment next week and I'd like you to be available for lunch." he said, smiling charmingly over at me.

"Really? Who's coming?"

"Yuri Belyakova. You haven't met him, but he's anxious to meet you. I've described you to him and he says you remind him of someone he used to know. He personally asked if you could be present tomorrow."

"Of course." I quickly wiped the beads of sweat that were forming above my lip. Luckily, if the diamond pin was doing its job, the Company would know that my cover could be blown tomorrow. My mind was racing as I pretended to listen to Diego. He mentioned music and parties, but I wasn't registering what he was saying.

If Yuri was coming to the apartment we kept in Rome, then it would be difficult for me to back out of the lunch. I could always complain about traffic or have something that delayed me if the lunch was scheduled at a restaurant, but at home, I would be considered the hostess and expected to present the meal. Even if I feigned being sick, the apartment was filled with photos of Diego and me. And, although I thought I looked different, I hadn't fooled Greg. I wasn't sure I could fool Yuri.

It was a good sign that Yuri was coming for a visit. It meant that he had important business to discuss, something he didn't want shared over the net, the phone or in the mail. I needed to let this meeting go forward, but not meet Yuri. I could only think of one thing to do.

On the day Yuri was to come to lunch,I went to the market with our cook to pick out fresh food for our guest. I stopped and picked up some Camponata, a sweet and sour relish that contains anchovies. I bought some crackers and started tasting it while I was at the market and by the time I got home, a quarter of it was gone and I felt like hell. My cook, who had been driving, looked at me and jerked back in shock. I knew I was achieving the result I had wanted. I'm allergic to anchovies. Not only allergic, but they make my mouth and cheeks swell, my face break out in a hideous rash and I itch all over. It goes away in a day or two, but I virtually become unrecognizable.

I walked into the apartment and went to the kitchen to get a drink of water (my mouth gets dry and scratchy too.) I ran back to the bathroom and found some cortisone cream and started rubbing it on the itchy parts of my face. I was standing at the mirror when Diego came in. He let out a short screech when he saw my face.

"Bella! Dios mio. What is wrong with your face?"

I forced myself to cry, which wasn't hard to do because of the discomfort. "It itches and burns. I think I'm allergic to the Camponata I bought at the market."

"You need attention." He turned and yelled out the door to our servant, "Manolo, call Dr. Tartoli and get him here quick.' He turned back to me. "I can't postpone this lunch darling, but certainly you can't come. I'll arrange for it to be at Luigi's off the of the Spanish Steps. That way you can get some treatment and rest without strangers around."

I knew he wouldn't want Yuri to see his prize possession looking like a pimpled face Charlie Brown. He had wanted to show me off. "Thank you darling. I am so sorry. Please tell Mr. Blakyoda that I am sorry."

"It's Belyakova. You'll meet him later, I'm sure. He's going to be here for a week."

My heart sank , but I wasn't through yet. When the doctor arrived I faked a mental breakdown, moaning that I needed to see my shrink in New York. He called Diego and explained to him that I was not only sick and allergic, but mentally exhausted and should see my doctor in New York right away. Diego cut his meeting short with Yuri and rushed home.

"But New York? Isn't there someone here in Rome?"

"He knows me, he knows my family background. Whenever I get stressed out, he's the only one that can help."

"But Yuri still wants to meet you and I promised him that as soon as the swelling went down, he could come over."

I looked Diego in the eye and asked, "Why is he so keen to meet me?"

"I told you, he saw a photo of us and said you reminded him of someone he knew, but he'd love to meet you in person."

My head was swimming. If he suspected it was me, leaving would set off all kinds of bells and whistles. "Bring him over tomorrow tonight. I'll stay home and meet him."

"But you're still swollen."

"Yes, but it should be better tomorrow tonight." I knew I would still be swollen because I'd just have a few more anchovies, but I figured the only chance I had to save my cover was for Yuri to meet me while I was still bloated. Between the swelling, the hair, contacts and bridge work, I was hoping I looked different enough to fool him. It was a terrible chance, but I had to take it.

Diego agreed and called Yuri to make the arrangements. Before Yuri arrived, I went through the living room and noticed that there were six photos of Diego and I. I removed four of them and kept out the two where you could barely see me or my head was in profile. I put on my fat dress, the one that added ten pounds to my figure (the one that Diego hated.) I took off all makeup except mascara and I wore flats.

When I finally made my debut for Diego he drew back with a scowl. "Darling, maybe we should cancel tonightd? You look like you need to rest."

"Nonsense, I'm dying to meet your friend."

At 7:30 pm the doorbell rang and our servant answered the door. I braced myself for his entrance, parking myself on the sofa. When he walked in I was somewhat shocked at his looks. Although he still had that rugged handsome face, it had aged. I wondered if he would think the same about me, if he knew who I was? He was dressed in a dark grey suit with a black silk t-shirt underneath. He was just short of six feet and broad at the shoulders. His gray beard was cropped short and his hair was somewhat long. He was still sexy, just older, more withered around his eyes.

He was incredibly gracious, not letting on one way or another if he knew who I was. I could tell he was trying hard not to look at me, but that could be because I looked so grotesque with the swollen jowels and hives all over. Frankly, I was willing to bet that he didn't know who I was. I was gracious and attentive and soon he treated me as if I wasn't even in the room. When they began to talk about business, I excused myself and went to our bedroom to read.

Diego saw our guest out and joined me in our room. "He wanted to wish you a speedy recovery."

"So, do I really remind him of this woman?"

He laughed and shook his head, "He said that you had a slight resemblance in the photo, but were nothing like her in person."

"Well, I'm not very pretty right now with this allergy."

"You're beautiful to me."

I had to give it to Diego, he could be very kind and sweet when he wanted to be, especially behind closed doors.

I took a large dose of Bennidryl and slept well that night.

In the morning I woke to a cool but sun-filled Roman day. I was in good spirits after the close call. As I got up, Diego reached over and I knew he wanted me. I felt my good spirits slipping. After my night with Greg, I felt cheap sleeping with Diego. But I smiled back at him and placed my hands on his chest and rubbed up against him with my breasts causing him to close his eyes and smile.

After he was done (my pleasure was never a concern of his), I got up and went into the bathroom, took a shower and then dressed. Diego came into the dressing room. "I received a call from Yuri. I invited him to join us this weekend down in Casserta. Do you have any single friends who might join us?"

"I could ask Angelina. She probably has the weekend free since she broke up with David."

"Yes, I think she would do nicely."

I didn't like Angelina, she was beautiful and witty, but a real b!tch and often petty. But she could charm men out of their money and make them feel good about themselves. She would be perfect for Yuri.

But once again I was going to place myself in jeopardy. After a weekend with me, would Yuri still think I was someone else? I didn't think so and I started to feel the stress again.

I ate breakfast and then Yoly, our maid came in to find me. In Italian she told me that there was a vendor at the door asking for me. I didn't like it when this happened, because I felt vulnerable without my gun, but, as the mistress of the house, I had to answer it. I went to the door, but I approached it from the side so that I could evaluate the situation before exposing myself fully to the person at the door.

"Ms. Bijou?" he asked in haulting English.

"Yes?" I answered.

"We have freesias today and gladiolas on the cart."

This was a code letting me know that he was from The Company and he had a communication for me. "Wonderful, let me grab my wallet and coat so that I can come down with you."

I grabbed my coat and my wallet and as we walked down to the elevator, he thrust an earpiece in my hand. I stuck it in my ear and pretended to talk to the vendor and, when we got to his cart, we pretended to carry on a conversation about the flowers for anyone who might be looking out a window.

I smiled broadly and began to smell the various flowers. "O'Rourke here."

"O'Rourke, we want the Russian put to bed."

I flinched, "Bed? I thought he was a major player?"

"We know who he reports to and who's sponsoring him. We can make do without him. He's jeopardizing your position and we've decided that, rather than remove you, we'll remove the threat."

I was shocked. I had just been given orders to take Yuri out. I was stunned. I stood there a little dazed, waiting for the confirming code from Morell. I continued to pretend to pick out a bouquet. I heard a beep and then it came, "Tango, tango, delta, tau." It was confirmed. I was given orders to kill Yuri. I felt sick to my stomach. I turned and looked at the agent selling me the flowers.

"You look horrible, like someone died."

"They did." I gave him money and he handed me the bouquet.

I spent the afternoon thinking it through. I knew that if Yuri had identified me, he'd take me out in a heartbeat. But still, we had refrained from hurting each other over the years. There had been a certain amount of respect between us, even friendship. I had to really think this through.

That evening I had the servants serve the best Cherimoya fruit I could find. It was so delicious I knew that Diego would comment about it.

"Darling, what is this fruit?"

"Cherimoya...from Peru."

"It's delicious."

"Diego, I was thinking that we should send your friend a welcome basket. You know wine, cheese, fruit. Like we did for Taylor Morton when he and his wife came."

He laughed. "Well, Yuri's not exactly like the other clients that have visited us." He sat back and smiled at me, "Still, it would be a nice gesture. One he wouldn't expect." He nodded at me, "Yes, I think that would be fine."

"I'll call the Florida and have them put a basket together for us. What hotel and room is he in?"

"Hotel Via San Pio." He pulled out his little notebook, "Room 320."

"Wonderful. I better go call Angelina and see if she can make it this weekend."

I got up and made my arrangements. The next evening I waited until Diego left and then pulled out my suitcase. I unzipped the hidden compartment and pulled out the box containing my gun and assembled it. I put on a Valentino dress made of spun silk and pashmina that wrapped and clung to my body. It had a deep plunge and three quarter sleeves. It was a deep blue. I wore my sapphire earrings and deep blue high heels along with my cashmere coat. I took a large satchel with my tools.

I drove to the hotel and went through the back entrance on the lower level where the washers and dryers were located. I made my way into the employee locker room. One of the employees saw me and I simply asked in Italian if the employers were treating them well. I took out a clip board and pretended to make comments on it as I looked around. She soon ignored me and went upstairs. I found a uniform and quickly put it on in the women's rest room. I rolled my dress up and put it in the satchel. I took out a pair of nurses shoes and gloves and put them on. I took the satchel with me to the third floor as if I was delivering a piece of luggage.

When I reached the third floor I looked to see if there was anyone around. When I had secured the area, I took out The Company card reader. The card reader sends out sequential pulses through the door lock until it finally hits the jackpot. It takes approximately two to three minutes before it opens the room lock. I watched as the lock turned green and I pushed the door open. I took my satchel inside and looked around. I took a look around and started to get dressed back into my clothes. For some reason, I wanted Yuri to see me decked out one more time. I primped in front of the mirror, took a paper towel and cleaned the counter and then sat down in a corner chair facing the door and waited. I was good at waiting, always focused. By now I was calm and ready to get it over with. The clock continued to tick away and finally at 8:06 pm I heard the card reader click and the door start to open. I raised my gun as I sat in the dark corner. He hit the light switch and within a fraction of a second my eyes adjusted. He threw the card on the table and it was then that he saw a glimpse of me in the corner. He immediately went for his gun.

If it were Hollywood, I would have yelled and stopped him. We would have a conversation about our mutual admiration, how unfair life was and the hope that I would be forgiven. But the reality is that once an operative sees another operative waiting in ambush, that person knows that their only chance to live is to get off a shot. So there's no time for idle chit chat before you kill someone.

I shot at him, but he managed to dodge just enough that the bullet hit his head, but it did not kill him. I walked over and stepped on his arm to keep him from getting to his gun and then I looked him straight in his eyes. We acknowledged each other briefly. He did say one thing to me in Russian, "I knew. I was coming for you."

I shot him in the head again and then in the heart. I felt sad. He was the last of the great KGB spies that I had worked with in the field. I took a look around the hotel and on his person. I hit the jackpot, he was carrying a blackberry filled with information. I slipped it in the satchel, changed back into the cleaning uniform and snuck out.

I was home by ten. Diego was still out with his friends. I put my gun and the uniform in the secret compartment of my luggage at the back of the closet and began my shower to clean up. I knew that Yuri's death would never make the newspapers, the new Russian intelligence service would work out something with Servizio per le Informazioni e la Sicurezza Militare, the Italian Military Intelligence Agency and Yuri's body would disappear as if he never existed, just like mine would if I were shot. Occasionally, an operative becomes the subject of a civilian investigation, but that usually happened when the hit was done by those outside of intelligence, by some drug dealer, terrorists, guerrilla group or civilian. The Company would have called the Russians out of courtesy and informed them of their rogue agent's death. The Russians were probably cleaning the blood off the carpet as I was taking my shower.

I jumped out of the shower just in time to hear the front door of the apartment slam. Our apartment had two large bronze doors that clanged if not closed slowly and gently. The apartment in Rome was about 4,000 square feet, but it housed both Diego and I and two live-in servants in the downstairs quarters. We only had one guest room to spare.

I heard yelling in Spanish, which became screaming in Italian. It was Diego and something was wrong. I put on my robe and went out to the balcony. He was furious and when he first looked up at me, I thought he was angry at me. The look he gave me worried me. Does he know? Yuri said he knew it was me, that he was coming for me. Had he already told someone, Diego perhaps?

I went back into the room and dressed in some casual clothes and then went downstairs. I was calm, as usual.

"Darling, what is it?"

He looked at me suspiciously and then knocked back a whiskey on the rocks. "I received a call tonight from Yuri. He wanted to meet me at nine to tell me something. He said it was something about you, but he wanted to tell me in person. He didn't show. I waited for hours and then went to his hotel, he wasn't there. There was another Russian in his room who said he had been renting the room for the last two days." He poured another drink, "He's disappeared. I can't get him on his phone." He crossed the room to me and stuck his face inches from mine, "What was he going to tell me about you?"

I thought about how I should approach this. Should I act nervous, calm, angry? He's suspicious. I should be indignant. I should go on the offensive.

"Are you accusing me of something?" I growled with my jaw clenched and my eyes on fire.

"Yuri was ex-KGB. He knew a lot, had seen a lot. He recognized you from somewhere, where was it?"

I had to think, what would be plausible. I walked away, sat down in a chair and looked coldly at him, "Yuri recognized me because when I was at University I was involved with a Spaniard, he was very active in the ETA. I spent a summer with him in Spain. I was with him when he and his friends robbed a bank to support the group. I didn't know he was going to do it. He actually used me as a front. I waited in line to exchange my Traveler's cheques when he pulled the gun on the teller. I did what he told me to do, because I knew he'd kill the teller and me if I didn't. But the photos all showed me cooperating. I guess Yuri was going to tell you that the Feds keep track of my whereabouts. I was cleared, but they never forget." I had borrowed heavily from one of my previous identities and events that had actually happened to me.

He looked at me. It was a plausible story considering I spoke fluent Spanish and when we had been in Spain I had shown him several places where I had stayed when I was (supposedly) going to college. On occasion Diego and I would both get pulled into separate rooms when we went through customs at the various borders or airports. Diego thought it was because of him and his reputation with the various agencies. But in reality, I was being pulled in to meet my handler for that country. It would make sense that Yuri would tell Diego that I was on some list of the Feds so that Diego would be aware that I was being watched. I didn't think Diego would really worry too much about the Feds watching me. He knew that they were already watching him. The fact that they were watching me too just meant we had to be even more careful.

I waited to see what his reaction would be. He stared at me while he passed an ice cube around in his mouth from his drink. Then I saw it, his forehead relaxed just a little. He was beginning to believe me.

I saw the tie pin and realized that my friends back at the Farm were probably frantically pulling up my previous identity so that they could generate proof for Diego if I needed it.

"Who was this lover?"

"Francisco Carlos Sevilla." I said without hesitation. Thank God I had a great memory.

He sat down and that's when I volunteered. "When we return to Los Angeles, I can show you some of the clippings. I kept them to remind me not to trust a fanatic."

This caused a brief smile to flash across his face. I'm sure he was reflecting on his own business. It looked as if I had bought some time, but the current events would definitely trigger a response from The Company and probably a removal of me from the playing field. The Company tries desperately to protect us. If they didn't, most of the agents would leave the service. Plus, they didn't want our information to fall into the wrong hands. Of course, they also hated investing millions of dollars in training and time on us just to find us dead in a hotel room.

"You're probably right." Diego said. He walked across the room, poured another drink and then turned to me.

I hadn't liked his tone. His body was relaxing, but the tone of his voice still clearly showed signs of skepticism. I was in trouble. We went to bed and I prayed that I wouldn't wake up with a knife at my throat. I had to relax, get some sleep and take care of business in the morning. Diego had drank enough that he wasn't going anywhere or doing anything, tonight.

The flower vendor showed up the next day for payment and a cart supposedly full of new Orchids. I went down, put the receiver in my ear and waited.

"O'Rourke," I said after hearing the telltale click.

"3:00 pm Hassler Rooftop Restaurant, brown suit, purple shirt, beard."

The receiver went dead. I nodded at my flower vendor, paid for the orchids while I slipped him the receiver and went back upstairs. Diego and I were sitting at the breakfast table. He was catching up on files before his meetings at his office downtown. I tried to read him, but all I got was a look that said he had a hangover.

"Darling, are we still going out tonight with Tzinsky and his wife?"

"Yes, 8:00 pm. Villa del La Croce." There was no venom in his voice, just physical pain from his headache.

"I'll be ready." I got up, kissed his cheek and started to walk away. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. He looked at me intently, as if he was trying to read me. He pushed his coffee away and grabbed me around my waist, lifted me to the edge of the table, threw up my robe and nightgown. I realized that he was unzipping his pants and that he meant to have me on the table, something so out of the ordinary for him that I was both scared and excited.

He grabbed my knees, pulled me forward a little, threw my legs open and penetrated me without any fanfare. He pumped over and over, with force. There were no sounds except the release of my breath and little grunts I let out each time I felt a thrust. He was rather large and, contrary to what the porn magazines say, someone that large can hurt when they aren't gentle. But, I kept my discomfort to myself and took it. He moaned when he came and I was sure the staff was going to come running, but they didn't. I suspected someone had already discovered us and warned everyone to stay out.

He pulled out of me and looked down to zip himself up. I really didn't know what he expected me to say or do.

"Are we done?" I asked.

He nodded.

I stood up and straightened out my gown and robe, "Was that pleasure or punishment?"

"You should have told me. I need to know these things about you. My work means that I need to work under the radar. I don't care about your past, I just needed to know so that I can make adjustments, maybe travel in separate planes on occasion."

I nodded and said nothing. He walked over and put his arms gingerly around me. "I love you Gwen, please remember not to hold things from me in the future.'

He kissed me and then turned to grab his coat and leave. I was completely confused. His voice had been sincere, he sounded as if he was only upset because I had not told him. I wasn't sure what I should do, so I did nothing. The Company had heard our little tabletop scene and would add it to their analysis. I'd wait and hear from big Daddy.

I went to the rooftop restaurant overlooking the Spanish Steps and scoured the patrons. I saw him. It was Anthony San Filippi, a handler I had worked with before. I joined him at the back of the restaurant, at a corner table, both of us sat with our backs to the walls. He stood up and gave me the Italian air kiss.

"Good to see you. You look stunningly beautiful."

I smiled, Anthony had always been a flirt. "Thank you. You look great too. Have you ordered?"

"Yes, I ordered for you too, some light appetizers and water with gas, is that okay?"

"Of course." I wasn't there for the food and he knew it.

The waiter brought the water and sandwiches. I ate a bite and then looked at Anthony, "Well? What does Papa say?"

"Papa thought you should get out, but after your morning tryst at the breakfast table, he's not sure that you need to."

Great, they're having the same dialogue in their respective heads that I'm having. "What's the decision?"

"They've decided to make it your decision. What was your impression about the morning events?"

"It was out of character for him. Usually he's a "behind closed doors" lover. I think it was a display of dominance, meant to warn me. I figure if he really thought I was a threat, he wouldn't have done that, I would just be a body in a dumpster by now."

Anthony nodded. There were times I hated handlers. They were like voyeurs, sitting off on the sidelines, monitoring everything you did and never getting their hands dirty. I couldn't recall a single handler getting hurt or killed in my entire career. But I liked Anthony, he was good at what he did and he had extricated me from a sticky situation in Instanbul ten years ago. I owed him a big Thank You.

I was worried and, as I've mentioned before, when I get worried I assume an air of authority. Anthony picked up on it, "You seem to have everything in control. So you're going to keep going?"

I nodded and took another bite. "I've got to go, I have to get back and get ready for tonight. Tell the big boys thanks for all their help." I said it tongue in cheek and Anthony smiled.

I got up and left, thinking just how much I had to do before I got home. I had to run by and pick up Diego's new suit that was being tailored and then find some shoes to go with my new dress. I know it sounds like a nice life, but when you're constantly thinking about your life being in the balance, the last thing you want to do is go shoe shopping.