REVENGE OF THE SPIES

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LOEWS L'ENFANT PLAZA

Zoya was the first to arrive at the hotel.  This was the fifth blind date Magda had set up for her.  While she was getting ready she pulled out her blind date "uniform", a black suit, silk blouse and black pumps.  She had the clothes lying on her bed when she changed her mind.

"Good evening Countess," Webb smiled as he met her at the bar.

"I thought for sure you weren't going to show up." Zoya laughed. "You look good."

"So do you," Webb replied, "Although I can't see you wearing that around the office."

Zoya had changed from her standard outfit, to a mini cocktail dress with an open back that gave quite a view.  The basic black dress was anything but basic.  The front was a scoop neck and the opened back had a silver toned clasp at the neck.  The form fitting dress had a slit in the back that showed off just a hint when she moved.  She complimented the outfit with a pair of ankle strapped 3 inch black heels and black hose.  She wasn't sure what made her change her mind, and she wasn't sure who she was dressing for.

"I think Jerome would have a stroke," Zoya laughed.

"I can understand why, you look stunning." Webb said.

"Thanks," Zoya blushed and mumbled. "You smell amazing."

"What?" Webb asked.

"Nothing," Zoya replied.

"Can I get you a drink?" Webb asked.

"Please, very dry Stolichnaya martini." Zoya requested.

Webb caught the eye of the bartender and ordered the drinks.  Once they had their drinks they sat and chatted.

"I cannot believe what you are getting me into." Webb sighed.

"It's one night out of your life," Zoya said. "This is the fifth guy she has set me up with."

"Does that mean she has bad taste or they do?" Webb asked.

"Why Mr. Webb, did you just compliment me?" Zoya smiled.

Before Webb could answer a man approached them.

"Excuse me, Zoya?" The man asked.

"Yes," Zoya replied.

"Magda didn't do you justice, I'm Peter Jacobi." Peter said.

"Nice to meet you," Zoya said jumping off the stool. "This is a friend of mine, Clay."

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting? I thought we were meeting tonight." Peter said.

"Oh we are. Clay is meeting someone too. I thought we could all be together." Zoya stated.

"I see," Peter said and ordered a drink.

"Zoya? I'm Eliza." Eliza said joining the group.

"Good to meet you," Zoya said again jumping off her stool.

"You must be Clay," Eliza said to Peter before Zoya could make introductions.

"No that would be me," Webb said extending his hand.

"I'm sorry.  It's been a crazy day." Eliza said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Webb offered Eliza a seat and gave Zoya a sarcastic smile. 

"So Peter, where do you work?" Zoya asked.

"I am a professor at George Mason," Peter replied.

"Really, what do you teach?" Eliza asked.

"I teach graduate courses in Archaeology." Peter stated.

"That's interesting." Webb said. "Eliza what do you do?"

"I am a curator at the National Museum of Natural History," Eliza replied.

"Interesting," Zoya said.

"Zoya what do you do?" Peter asked.

"I'm a lawyer at the Justice Department," Zoya replied.

"And you Mr. Webb?" Eliza asked.

"Please call me Clay.  I work at the State Department," Webb said.

"Isn't that interesting, you and Zoya both work for the Government and Eliza and I both work with history." Peter smiled.

"Well, how many different jobs are there in DC?" Zoya joked.

They two couples spent the next hour chatting.  Zoya was trying very hard to find something interesting in Peter, while Webb wanted to puncture his ear drum as Eliza talked about paleontology studies.

"Oh there goes my pager," Peter said. "Excuse me a moment."

"Who would be calling me now?" Eliza said as her cell rang. "I'll be right back."

"So, Peter seems like a fun guy." Webb said with his normal sarcasm.

"Eliza seems perky," Zoya shot back.

"If she mentions one more fossil or bone…" Webb trailed off as the two returned.

"Would you excuse me for a moment," Zoya said getting up.

"I'll join you," Eliza said also rising.

THE LADIES ROOM

"So what do you think?" Zoya asked.

"He's nice, I guess." Eliza replied.

"You guess? Did you not look at him? Did you not smell him?" Zoya asked. "His eyes alone are amazing."

"He's nice, but how boring.  He's an under secretary of something, he pushes papers." Eliza shrugged. "Now that Dr. Jacobi, you lucked out."

"You think?" Zoya asked crinkling her nose.

"Zoya, would you mind if I called Peter? That is if you're not interested." Eliza said.

"Oh please, be my guest." Zoya said quickly.

AT THE BAR

"So how do you know Zoya?" Peter asked.

"She handled some things for us at State." Webb said, "Boring legal stuff."

"I see," Peter replied.  "She's rather one dimensional."

"Meaning?" Webb asked.

"She strikes me as the type who no depth with.  She has no concept of the real issues out there." Peter said.

"Zoya, oh have you got that wrong." Webb laughed.

"Eliza's not bad," Peter said.

"She's no Zoya," Webb said into his scotch.

"Wow, it's 9," Peter said looking at his watch.

"Hey Peter, let's make a deal." Webb said with a sudden flash of inspiration.

"A deal?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, I'll pick up the check tonight, if you keep Zoya out until 1a.m." Webb said.

"Why would I want to do that?" Peter asked.

"I've known Zoya for a very long time." Webb lied a little and then he lied a lot.  "I don't think I have seen her this interested in a man in a long time. Take her out and show her a good time."

"I don't know about this," Peter said.  "I just don't think there is a connection."

"Sure there is," Webb advised. "So have we got a deal?"

"Why is this so important to you?" Peter asked. "Why until 1 a.m.?"

"I just want her to have a good time, she never gets to go out." Webb stated. "You know what she really likes, chamber music."

"She likes chamber music? I figured her as more of the 60's and 70's music type." Peter said.

"No, she loves chamber music." Webb smiled. "You know, there is a café on M Street that is playing chamber music tonight.  You should take her."

"If you say so," Peter said.

"Hey, anything for Zoya," Webb smiled.

"She must mean a lot to you." Peter said.

"Let's just say I owe her one." Webb said with a grin.

The women returned to the bar and joined the men.

"Zoya, I have a special treat planned for us. If you're game," Peter stated.

"What is it?" Zoya asked.

"Let's just say, I have it on good authority that you will enjoy it." Peter smiled.

"Oh really?" Zoya said looking sideways at Webb.

"Clay, I have to get going." Eliza apologized. "I'm sorry.  There is a problem at the museum."

"Well then, I guess this is where we part." Webb stated. "Eliza and Peter it was a pleasure meeting you.  Zoya, I am sure we will be talking."

"You can count on it," Zoya said with a dirty look.

The couples left the lounge.  Peter and Zoya went to the M Street Café while Webb went back to his place and Eliza went to the museum. At 11:30, Webb left his apartment and went to Zoya's.

 ZOYA'S APARTMENT

It was 11:55 when Webb arrived.  He picked the lock and opened the door.  He carefully entered, there was no way she would try a booby trap again, besides she was the one who called the truce for the night.  He was smart enough to realize the night ended at 12, an hour before she would be getting home.  In five minutes it would be tomorrow.

He went into her living room, which was lit by a single lamp and looked around.  It was very neat, everything in order but it had a lived in look that his place didn't have.  He walked around and saw pictures of Zoya and AJ through the years. He saw a picture of a couple, he assumed were her parents.  He took it all in and walked to her bedroom.  It was decorated with lavender walls and a light pink sponging over it.  She had a country style patchwork quilt on her bed with the typical matching throw pillows, which all women have.  He looked at her dresser.  She had nothing out of the ordinary as far as he could tell.  She had jewelry box, a few bottles of perfume and a silver hand mirror with a matching comb and brush.  The one item that was out of the ordinary was a Faberge Egg in a glass display box.  This has to be part of her heritage.  As he walked to through her bedroom, the lived in feeling he felt in the other room began to envelop him.  He finally realized what it was. His apartment was where he lived. Zoya's apartment was a home. 

Webb went to Zoya's bed and carefully removed the quilt.  He couldn't believe he was actually going to do this.  Taking the tubes of toothpaste out of his pocket he squeezed its entire contents onto her sheets.  He then remade her bed, short sheeting it in the process.  When he was done, he left and went home.  Satisfied, that he would have the last laugh tonight.

AN HOUR LATER

"Thanks Peter, that was umm interesting." Zoya said standing by his car.

"I am thankful that Clay told me your interests." Peter smiled. "May I walk you to your door?"

"No!" Zoya snapped. "I mean thank you, but it's not necessary. I can make it."

"It's no problem," Peter smiled.

"Peter, let's just say good night here." Zoya said.

Peter put his arms around Zoya in an attempt to pull her close and kiss her.

"This was a very nice evening." Peter said.

"It was," Zoya smiled weakly. "Peter, please I don't kiss on the first date."

"You're just being shy." Peter said. "Clay said he saw the connection between us."

"Oh he did," Zoya said pulling away.

"Come here," Peter said.

"Peter, if your lips come any closer you will be picking them up off the ground." Zoya said pushing him away.

"Hey, I'm sorry." Peter said.

"It's cool.  You know Eliza seemed really interested.  I think she's going to call you." Zoya said.

"You're not interested are you?" Peter asked.

"No, I'm sorry." Zoya said.

"You don't like chamber music do you?" Peter asked.

"I hate it," Zoya said.

"Clay was playing a trick on you, wasn't he?" Peter asked.

"What do you mean?" Zoya asked.

"He told me you loved chamber music and asked me to keep you out until 1a.m.  He said it had been a while since you had been out and I should show you a good time." Peter confessed.

"Oh he did," Zoya laughed. "He's going to die."

"Peter, you're a nice guy but I'm not really looking for anyone at this time." Zoya said.

"I think I understand." Peter said and kissed Zoya on the cheek.  "It was nice meeting you."

Zoya walked to her apartment. She had no idea what Peter meant.  She put the key in the door lock and stopped.  I'll call a truce for the night. Her words rang through her ears.  He wouldn't.

Zoya suddenly realized why Webb wanted her out until 1a.m. She laughed as she carefully turned the lock and opened the door.  She flipped on the light and in usual fashion kicked off her shoes.  As the first shoe flew threw the air into her living room a shot rang out. Instinctively, she dropped to the floor. He thinks I'm crazy! Zoya thought.  She crawled across the living room and stood up, another shot whizzed past her. She dropped again and made her way to the hallway that connected the living room to the bedroom.  She opened the linen closet and grabbed a towel.  She threw the towel into the living room. As soon as the towel cut through the air, another bullet shot out.  Zoya went to her bedroom, grabbed the phone and dialed Webb's number.

"You call me crazy?" Zoya yelled into the phone.

"Oh come on Countess, it's harmless, just like the flour." Webb laughed.

"Harmless? You could have killed me!" Zoya yelled.

"Are you allergic to Crest?" Webb asked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Zoya asked.

"The toothpaste, what are you talking about?" Webb asked.

"Who booby trapped my living room?" Zoya asked. .

"Is this a joke?" Webb asked.

"Clay, do I sound like I am joking." Zoya snapped. "My living room is a combat zone.  At least 6 shots have been fired. It sounds like a semi- automatic."

"Where are you now?" Webb asked.

"I got to my bedroom." Zoya said.

"The bedroom could have been trapped too," Webb said.

"I doubt it. I should have never made it through the living room." Zoya said.

"I'm coming over," Webb said.

"What ever you do, do not enter my living room." Zoya said.

"I'm going to call ATF," Webb said. "You contact Wellington."

Zoya paced around her bedroom as he dialed Wellington's number.  She advised him of the situation.  Wellington in turn called in his team to meet the ATF team. Zoya paced some more.  She was not scared, she was pissed.  She thought about getting an alarm system in the past, but never did anything about it.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

While she waited for the Calvary, she started thinking about what he said.  She pulled the spread back and was met with the scent of mint.  She had to laugh. It was inappropriate to laugh at this moment, considering someone was trying to kill her, but she still had to laugh. Her phone rang and she immediately picked it up.

"You're learning grasshopper." Zoya laughed.

"You found it," Webb said.

"Clay, what time did you do this?" Zoya asked.

"Around midnight, I left by 12:15." Webb replied.

"That doesn't make sense. How could this have all been set up in 45 minutes?"  Zoya asked.

"What do you mean?" Webb asked.

"You walked though my living room to the bedroom without incident." Zoya said. "By all rights you should be dead right now."

"That's a good point." Webb said.

"Ok, what did you do when you got here?" Zoya asked. "Let's see what we did differently. I opened the door."

"So did I," Webb stated.

"I flung my shoes," Zoya said.

"You what?" Webb said trying not to laugh. This was not a laughing matter.

"I flung my shoes," Zoya repeated. "No wait, I didn't. First I turned on the lights."

"I didn't do that, there was a lamp on." Webb said.

"It must be connected to the lights." Zoya said.  "Let me check."

"Do you have a vest?" Webb asked.

"Not here," Zoya replied.

"Then I would suggest you not test any theories." Webb warned. "I should be there in five minutes. ATF should be pulling in at any moment."

Zoya walked to the hallway and flipped the switch.  She had a switch on either side of her living room.  She then picked up a towel and threw it into the middle of the room. 

"That was it," Zoya announced. "I'll meet you outside."

"Countess, stay where you are, let them check everything out before you cross through again." Webb suggested.

"Clay, I am going to crawl.  Besides if the situation were reversed what would you do?" Zoya asked.

"I'd get the hell out of there," Webb said.

"Exactly, I'll meet you in the parking lot." Zoya said.

"I'm pulling in now," Webb said.

As Webb parked his car he saw Zoya running out into the lot.  She was still in the dress she wore earlier minus the shoes but plus a gun and ID.

"Can I have your jacket?" Zoya asked. "I don't want these guys to see me dressed like this."

"Sure," Webb smiled and gave her his jacket.

The ATF team and Wellington's men arrived.  Zoya explained the whole situation.  When she was done, they entered her apartment to try and disable the gun or guns.  Zoya was not going to be able to stay there while they were checking out her place.

"Webb, would you drop me off at the Jefferson?" Zoya asked.

"Why don't you just stay at my place?" Webb offered.

"Are you sure?" Zoya asked.

"I'll give you the good pillows." Webb smiled.

"Why are you being so nice?" Zoya asked.

"If you keep that dress on, I'll even give you the bed." Webb smiled.

WEBB'S APARTMENT

Webb escorted Zoya into his apartment. Once they were inside, she asked for something else to put on. He gave her a shirt and left the room, returning once Zoya advised him she was changed.

"Can I get you anything else?" Webb asked.

"A pen and paper," Zoya said, "And a rubber band."

"What's going on?" Webb asked.

"I want to get working on who could have done this." Zoya said.

"I agree," Webb said. "I'll be right back."

Webb returned with a laptop and hooked up the computer.  Together they sat on the bed.  He gave her the rubber band and she used it to put her hair up.  Webb started tapping the keys, when Zoya pulled the laptop away from him.

"You type way too slow." Zoya said taking over.

"Countess would you like to take over?" Webb asked.

"Do you think this has anything to do with those pages I translated last week?" Zoya asked.

"What were you doing in Morocco?" Webb asked.

"Classified," Zoya replied.

"Please," Webb said sarcastically.

"I was questioning possible members of Al-Qaeda who may have been part of the bombing." Zoya advised.

"Why were you called back?" Webb asked.

"They made the decision on your replacement," Zoya said. "It was me."

"You had to add that didn't you?" Webb asked. "You think all this is connected?"

"Don't you?" Zoya asked.

"Hey you're the boss. I go with what you decide." Webb replied.

"Come on," Zoya smiled. "We're equals, until you disagree with me."

Webb smiled at Zoya.  She really had a quick wit, which he not only appreciated but liked.  They discussed who she had questioned and worked on linking those people to the author of the journal.  It was about 4am, when they looked at each other in complete exhaustion.

"I don't believe this," Zoya said running her hands over her face.

"You're very lucky, what made you suspicious?" Webb asked.

"The bullet flying across my living room, gave me a good idea." Zoya said.

"I mean, you were lucky that you didn't get hit, what made you drop?" Webb asked.

"It was part of my routine," Zoya explained. "I have this tendency to just kick off my shoes when I get home.  Usually I stand in the little foyer and fling them into the living room."

"When the shoe went through the air, it set off the trap." Webb said. "You could have been killed if you didn't do that."

"I know, I'm safe," Zoya agreed. "But they killed my shoe."

"You realize this calls an end to your games." Webb said.

"Doesn't end it, just delays it." Zoya smiled. "Nice touch with the toothpaste."

"Well, between the flour and moving my toiletries around, I needed to think of something." Webb said.

"Are you sure that's all I did?" Zoya asked.

"Yes," Webb said. "No. What else did you do?"

"This bed is comfortable," Zoya said changing the subject and settling back.

"What else did you do?" Webb asked.

"Nothing too bad," Zoya smiled.

Webb was sitting on the edge of the bed just looking at her.  He was trying to figure out what else she could have possibly done.  Originally when she mentioned this 'war game' he was expecting her to run through a training op, he never expected it to be practical jokes. 

"Was my meeting with Eliza part of your plan?" Webb asked.

"I wasn't sure yet," Zoya shrugged. "What did you think of her?"

"She was nice, not really my type." Webb replied. "What about you and Dr. Dull?"

"I cannot believe you told him I like chamber music." Zoya laughed. "That alone was pay back."

Webb sat back on the bed next to Zoya and watched as she pulled up files.  She ran a list of the men she interrogated and then cross referenced them to anyone else in the data base.  As five a.m. approached, Zoya looked over at Webb who had fallen asleep.  She smiled, tossed a cover over him and got up.  So much for giving me the bed, Zoya sighed. She was feeling a bit chilly and decided to search for a pair of socks.  She opened drawers until she found a pair of sweat socks and put them on. 

Zoya stood looking out the bedroom window.  She was running every investigation and assignment in her head.  She thought about the journal she had translated.  Was it her cover that had been blown? Or was she just one of many.  What bothered her most was that this happened in the United States.  She expected to one day possibly be killed while on assignment, never once did she think it would happen in her own back yard.

Webb woke up around 6 a.m. and saw Zoya standing at the window.  The morning sun made a haze form around her. 

"Have you been standing there all night?" Webb asked and looked at her feet.  "I see you found my sock drawer."

"My feet were cold," Zoya shrugged.

"What are you thinking about?" Webb asked.

"Just running past ops through my head," Zoya replied.

"Come up with anything?" Webb asked.

"I need coffee," Zoya smiled and went to his kitchen.

Webb was a little groggy and surprised that he actually spent the night in his clothes.  Wrinkled and disheveled he went to the kitchen to make coffee.

"Countess, did you move my coffee maker?" Webb asked.

"No I never came in the kitchen." Zoya said, "Why?"

"Don't touch that," Webb shouted and pulled Zoya away from the counter.