The Adventure Begins
Chapter 3
June 16th
The next morning Fi headed for the kitchen of the loft for breakfast.
Michael was already eating some yogurt and reading the newspaper. He set aside the paper as he watched her enter the kitchen. When she turned to smile at him, it was as if the sun had burst forth in the room.
"Good morning, Fi," Michael's gaze swept lovingly over her.
"Morning, Michael, you're up early," greeted Fi with a happy smile.
Michael watched as Fi walked over to the coffeemaker and poured herself a cup. He did not want to break her good mood. How was he going to tell her? He had contemplated that question all morning.
All thoughts of telling her , however, was forgotten as he became distracted by her.
Even with the early hour, Michael could not help thinking that the mere presence of Fi was enough to ignite desire in him. As he worked to control his sexual awareness of her, he dreaded telling her that he would be leaving her once more.
But as with other mistimed events in his life, it turned out that he didn't have to.
The coffee smelled delicious as she poured herself a cup. Bringing the steaming brew to her lips, she took a small sip. Before she could enjoy the full sensation of her morning drink, however, something caught her eye, causing her to swallow wrong and start coughing.
Michael got halfway out of his seat as he looked over at her with concern.
"Fi, are you alright?"
She recovered quickly and pointed to the duffel bag located next to the counter.
"You're leaving," she simply stated and then added, "again."
Michael was flooded with guilt.
For spies, the hardest thing about going away is telling your special someone that very fact.
He spoke as quickly as possible, stringing his words together.
"I'm sorry, but- I- have-a- debriefing- up- in- Washington- regarding- my- next- assignment..." he began before Fi held out her hand in a "stop" gesture.
"Michael...Wait... you're talking too fast...slow your roll..." Fi interrupted.
Michael took a deep breath.
"Fi, I should have told you earlier about my leaving...and I regret that..." he admitted, "I just...didn't want to upset you...but I'll be back in no time, I promise."
He paused, waiting for the usual onslaught of grievances from her.
These 'discussions' would usually include how he always put the mission first, while sidestepping the feelings of his family and loved ones. Michael figured if he put off telling her until the last minute, they would spend less time arguing.
He watched for her reaction. He could have sworn her eyes brightened at the news of him leaving. But that didn't make any sense. He must have imagined it.
She folded her arms as she peered at him.
Here it comes.
He braced himself for what was to come... first, the icicle stare and then the argument. OR if he were lucky, he'd might get away with just hearing a slammed door.
Internally, Fi had been debating how to tell Michael that she would be gone for four days. Luckily, fate had intervened. Instead, with him gone first, she would be able to get on with her mission without any excuses, any interruptions.
So, to Michael's surprise, she unfolded her arms, reached over, and calmly took another sip of her coffee before putting the mug back down.
"Have a nice trip, Michael," she stated casually, "Be sure to call me when you get back."
Michael's mouth slightly dropped at her announcement.
Most people think having an understanding girlfriend is the best thing in the world. A spy fears it.
He watched her carefully, "Okay...Fi, that was…not quite the reaction I expected from you..."
But Fi's expression was not giving away anything.
"Michael, I assure you, I don't know what you are talking about. What were you expecting?"
Michael watched the sparks of challenge in her green eyes.
"What was I expecting Fi?" asking Michael cautiously, "How about something along the lines of, 'You're always doing this to me, so don't slam the door on your way out!'?"
But you never slam the door on your way out, Michael."
"Uh, that was a turn of expression, Fi."
"I'm going to pretend that you didn't say 'turn of expression' like you were a Shakespearean thespian," she stated.
"Don't change the subject," asserted Michael, "What is up with you?"
"Michael, is it so bad of me to ask you to have a nice trip?"
Her eyes were round and innocent. Well, she had a point there. Michael was puzzled yet fascinated at the same time.
One of the things he loved about her was her unpredictability. It made her so…exciting. Awareness caused a sharp ache inside him, and he shook his head with a rueful smile. Maybe he was making a big thing out of nothing. Perhaps she was adjusting to his lifestyle. After all, they had been living together for awhile now.
"I'll miss you, Fi."
He seemed to have said the right words, for an inviting smile broke out on her face.
Fi approached him. Michael got off the counter chair to meet her halfway, hoping at the last minute she wouldn't do something, like...oh, slam him against the wall. He was ready to accept her in his arms.
When Fi reached him, she tilted her face up to look at him, adoration shining in her eyes. Then pressing her palms against the hard surface of his chest, she tiptoed up and gave a sweet peck on his cheek.
With a gentle smile, she turned and walked past him. Reaching the shelf, she grabbed one of her snowglobe balls and walked towards the counter. Opening his overnight bag, she tossed it in his bag and zipped it back.
"There!" she came back and handed the bag to him, "Now you won't have to miss me anymore."
Michael was baffled as he reached tentatively over and took the bag from her. What game was she playing?
"I'll think about you the whole time I'm gone, Fi..."
"Goodbye Michael," she stated steadily, "and stay safe."
She looked at him primly, but Michael caught the trembling of her lips at his words and it made him grin as realization hit him. She was playing hard to get. He put the bag down.
"Don't I get a good-bye kiss, Fi?"
Michael was looking at her with a slow, dark heat as he reached out for her and enclosed her in his arms. Fi's heart pounded as he lowered his mouth and covered hers, surrounding her with the heat of passion. She wrapped her arms around his neck and his throat hummed with pleasure.
The pressure of their lips was as before, arousing and passionate. Afterwards when they had parted, they looked at each other in searing wonderment.
They stood in silence.
He waited for the words of endearment to come out of her. Instead, she picked up his bag, turned him around, and started shoving him towards the door.
"Michael," she said, "You don't want to miss your flight."
If this was a game, it had ended quickly, with no one seemingly the winner.
"That certainly won't be a possibility now," Michael agreed as she continued to push him towards the door, "I'll probably arrive at the airport before the ticket agents."
"Then you'll have a better chance of getting a window seat," Fi stated as she opened the front door.
"I suppose..." he questioned, giving her one more lingering look before he walked away.
As Fi shut the door, she looked around the empty room. The silence seemed to reverberate throughout the walls. The loft suddenly appeared dark and lonely.
There was a strange mixture of feelings inside Fi; relief at his departure so that she could get to work, but also of sadness because he was gone.
But the thought of completing an official CIA mission made her smile and the heartache lifted slightly.
Afterwards when Michael returned, she could proudly tell him that she, too, was hired to do covert operations for the CIA. Then in the future, instead of missing him, she would be accompanying him.
Or actually he would be accompanying her.
.
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Meanwhile, as Michael climbed down the stairs, his thoughts were not of the Washington trip, but of Fi. His forehead furrowed at her reaction to his departure. Her behavior was so strange, even for her.
What was Fi up to?
There was only one thing to do, although he hoped Fi would never find out. After Michael got into the Charger he took out his cell phone and immediately called Sam.
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June 17th
Located in the heart of vibrant Tampa, the InterContinental Hotel and Resorts boasts a contemporary yet casual sense of elegance, embodying the laidback sophistication of Florida's style.
Tourist Faith "Fiona" Armstrong slept well in the comfy king size bed of her spacious room. The CIA must be doing fairly well to afford all of this for her, Fi thought as she looked about the opulence. She recalled a few years earlier, when Michael had been officially burned as a spy, they had dumped him in a fleabag motel.
She was going to make the best of this mission/vacation and show the CIA that she has what it takes to be a topnotch agent.
Downstairs Fiona bought a map of Tampa and after a light lunch, set out for a nice walk about the city. After all, isn't that what tourist do? Take in the sights and sounds of the city!
She strolled through Bok Tower Gardens, visited the animals at the Tampa Bay Zoo and walked along the shoreline. As she felt the sand beneath her feet, she breathed deeply in, filling her lungs with the fresh ocean breeze.
And as she looked around at nature's beauty, all she could think about was that she was so bored she felt like screaming.
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It was late afternoon and she was back at the hotel. She actually found herself pacing from inactivity. Fi could not wait any longer. Perhaps if she just got a glimpse of Nemo's Bookstore, it would soothe her curiosity.
Unfolding her map on the hotel table, she discovered to her surprise that the bookstore was within walking distance of her hotel. It was actually located on a side street, a block down from where she was situated.
A decision was made that she would casually stroll by there and take a peek at its surroundings. Spies do that all the time, don't they? It's called reconnaissance.
And it was time for Fi to do some recon.
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In no time, she was in front of the bookstore.
Nemo's Bookstore was located in a fairly respectable area. From where she stood, the shop itself was not the neglected shabby storefront as she had expected. It was a modern but narrow shop. On its huge display window was painted a large orange/white clown fish with the words "Nemo's Bookstore" elegantly written in cursive writing.
Taking a glance through the window, she saw a man ringing up a customer at the counter. He seemed pleasant enough. There were other customers in the shop.
The door to the shop opened as that customer walked out with his purchase. He held the door open for Fi. What would it hurt to take a quick peek inside? she thought to herself. She would just go in and right back out. On impulse, she nodded to the courteous man and entered the shop.
Fi looked around at the bookshelves of books. Outside of books and shelves, the only other item in the shop was a small round fish bowl with one fish swimming about. Not wanting to look conspicuous, she moseyed over to view the fish bowl.
Bending slightly in front of the watery container she observed that the orange fish had three white stripes, one at the head, middle and tail. Fi became mesmerized with the solitaire fish, who was busy swimming in and out of its plastic green plants and play stone castle. Swish swish. If only I were that busy, she thought.
"I see you are fascinated by my little clown fish!" a man's voice came from behind her.
Fi whirled around and after reading his nametag as "Ben", she surmised that this must be her future contact, Benjamin McGrath. She had expected him to be an older man like Doctor Jones, but instead he was roughly her age, with red hair, black frame glasses and a mousy countenance. Yet despite the nerdy appearance, his eyes were sharp and seemed to take in everything.
She had meant to come in unnoticed, but it was too late now. . It was time she play her part. She must become friendly tourist Faith Armstrong, expert of the small talk.
"Lovely fish," Fi complimented, trying to sound like any other enthusiastic out-of-towner that came in just to browse, "and such vibrant colors on that fish!...Oh, and I see the store is named Nemo's. I assumed your fish is named after this wonderful shop?"
Too wordy...trying too hard, Fi corrected herself. Maybe she should let this 'Ben' do all the talking. She tilted her head in a listening gesture as he spoke.
Did you think this fish is named for the store? Not quite, Miss, " corrected Benjamin in a friendly manner, "I had my little Nemo first, so my store is named after my fish!"
I can't do this, thought Fi, I can't do this small talk! This wasn't even small talk, this was minuscule talk. She'd need a microscope soon.
Fi was getting glassy-eyed.
"Oh, well... isn't that the most interesting statement?" she attempted a lighthearted laugh.
Damn!
A trainee spy playing a role must work on making her manufactured laugh sound friendly, not diabolical.
She looked around, hoping another customer might distract Ben's attention. But everyone else seemed enmeshed in their books.
"They are very interesting fish," Ben was explaining, "And you know, there is a strict hierarchy of dominance with clownfish. They are hermaphrodites, meaning they develop into males first and when they mature, they become females. Which is good since females are the strong, aggressive ones."
Females are the strong ones? Females are the superior ones? Now that was interesting, thought Fi, perking up. At least now, she did not have to fake attentiveness.
"You don't say?" she smiled sincerely, "The female is the more aggressive? I am now an avid fan of the clownfish."
Benjamin laughed lightly, "Always glad to meet a fan of the fish world! And so...how exactly may I help you today?"
In the meantime the shop's door opened again and Benjamin nodded affably to a man and woman who had entered the store.
Fi had not really expected to buy anything, but after all this nonsensical talk, she couldn't just simply walk out empty handed from the store. It would look suspicious.
"I'm looking for a book," she said, in answer to his question.
Benjamin grinned, "but of course you are, that is why you are at a bookstore…but which one?"
Fi was stumped. She hadn't given any thought to any book she might want.
"Something strong- sounding."
This time Benjamin scratched his head, completely stumped.
"I'm afraid, I don't understand …" began Benjamin, looking about his shop. Then his face brightened and he snapped his fingers, "Ahhh! You like strong fish, so perhaps you like a strong heroine? Yes? Perhaps I DO have a book for you!"
He walked over to a particular bookshelf. Fingering a few titles, he chose one with a burgundy cover. The beautiful looking leather-bound book also contained gold accent lettering, elegant gilding and a permanent satin ribbon bookmark.
"One of my favorites books!" announced Benjamin proudly, handing her the book, " This is the story 'Emma' by Jane Austen. It has a wonderfully strong heroine to admire! She's intelligent, self-sufficient and best of all she sticks to her guns when it matters!"
"Guns?" Fi openly admired it.
Fi almost slapped herself. Tourists do not blurt out words like 'guns'.
"I meant gum, yes, I was wondering if you had gum," Fi corrected herself.
"No, Miss," Ben shook his head, "our store is very limited in our merchandise."
"That's alright," said Fi, as she held up the book, "Anyway, this book looks...engaging. I'll take it."
Benjamin McGrath looked very pleased as he took the book back and they walked over to the counter.
"I will also give you a 20 percent discount!" Benjamin stated with a smile, as he rang the order up, "This I will do for my new clown fish friend!"
For a split second, Fi felt her heart sharply constrict. What is this feeling she is feeling now, she wondered. Could this be how people feel when they have...bonded?
"Why, um...thank you." Fi smiled, "I appreciate the discount."
"Don't mention it," Benjamin said, as he handed the package to her, "I hope to see you soon!"
"Sooner than you think," prophesied Fi.
"What?" he asked.
"Sooner than later," she reworded herself as he looked slightly puzzled.
With the transaction completed, she turned to exit.
Fi was in deep thought as she pushed the door of the bookstore to exit. She had not intended to meet Benjamin McGrath at all, and now they were like bff's!
Would this affect her contact with him tomorrow? What happens if Agent Pearce gets wind of this? The thought made her slightly regret the visit, knowing that she should not have let curiosity get the best of her.
But then on the other hand, Fi never regretted anything. For her, a mistake, such as shooting someone, is simply another way of doing things.
So absorbed was she in her spy thoughts, that she did the one thing spies should never do…become unaware of her surroundings. For if she had been more observant, she would have seen someone on the roof of the adjacent building, as he looked through his binoculars, trained on her every move.
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