A Mole in the House Ch. 05

"Please...do..." Ivan muttered moving imperceptibly closer and opening his mouth to Abdullah.

Abdullah often wondered if it was that first kiss that sealed his fate that night or if it was lying on his back looking up at Ivan straddled over him. The utter joy and contentment that touched Ivan's face as he moved slowly, undulating his hips feeling every inch of Abdullah's meaty length deep inside of him. They moved together like they had been doing this all their lives. Ivan seemed to know when to rise and let Abdullah thrust into him and when to take control and ride his cock.

They were virtually silent until Ivan felt Abdullah's cock begin to swell and he moaned his delight murmuring over and over again 'yes, yes' while moving up and down on his cock. He leaned forward drawing Abdullah's mouth to his, plunging his tongue in his mouth the moment Abdullah's cock unleashed inside of Ivan's ass.

Abdullah let out a loud groan against Ivan's tongue pulling him tighter to him as he thrust himself as deeply as could in Ivan's ass. Ivan held himself steadfast against Abdullah, cradling his cock tightly within him, relishing every throb and shudder his cock made until his orgasm was exhausted - and still he didn't move. Abdullah just held his cock in Ivan's ass, not wanting to let go of that once in a lifetime perfect feeling of total sexual satisfaction.

A moment passed.

Abdullah was back in the present and the young man, with his red welted ass was holding himself rock still his face buried in a pillow to stifle the silent sobs from the ass fucking he had just received. Abdullah had shot his load deep in the living receptacle's ass. Closing his eyes he cursed the present, he only wanted to be back in his bed in Dubai with Ivan.

...But even that wasn't possible now.

Abdullah pushed the young man off the bed and told him to get out of his room. At nineteen years old the boy's life was all but over. He was used goods and would bear the burned off royal seal for the rest of his life - a reminder of what could have been. The only future for him now was to become a prostitute to the men in the mines or the oil fields, somewhere as far away from Cairo as he could get. The no named youth would never again feel the lap of luxury he had had for a brief few days of his life.

*

Abdullah showered and returned to his bed, the remnants of the young man now washed away. He had business to attend to but had been putting it off all day. He was teetering on a precipice and the decisions he needed to make could mean life and death to some of his precious minions. More importantly he knew he was at the crossroads for his ultimate plan - total unification of conservative Islamic rule...with Abdullah the self appointed leader. The road to Mecca was getting closer.

The only problem was that damn Ivan Sergovei who he now knew to be Aaron Mitchell was fucking everything up, in more ways than one, and now he was totally off the grid and even his army men couldn't find the slightest trace of him.

One minute he was there, the next POOF...he was gone - like he never existed.

Abdullah thought he had all of his bases covered. For years, as he built his plan knowing that one day it would come to fruition, he had vetted men, his messengers of Allah, throughout the world in high level intelligent positions. Some of them he was able to turn when they were already in the job others he groomed for years, paying for their educations and insuring that they succeeded in securing the positions they had.

That was the case with the men he had in Washington. There were six of them who had became lifelong friends having served in the military together, done their tours and opted out after their four years were up. The men spent the bulk of their time in the Middle East, and liking the culture, decided to celebrate their discharge together before they returned to civilian life. Their destination was an extended trip to Sharm El Sheikh where Abdullah happened to be vacationing at the same time. They met Abdullah the first evening they were there at casino in the hotel they were staying at and for the first two days he didn't bother to tell them that he was a prince or his plans for the future. During the day they lounged out by pool at the hotel and at night they hit the disco's and danced the night away with Abdullah picking up the tab where ever they went.

When Abdullah finally told them that he was Prince Abdullah the men were in awe of hanging out with Egyptian royalty. Abdullah was cunning and had pretty much figured out within the first few hours that the six men were either bi-sexual or homosexual, especially after they turned down Abdullah's offer of the company of six of the most beautiful women they had ever met. The men preferred their own company and even though they didn't mind spending time with the prince they returned to their own hotel rooms when it came time to turn in.

On the third night, too tired to party, Abdullah invited them to his house for dinner and a quiet night of relaxation. After dinner they went outside to the pool area where Abdullah told them that they were more than welcome to shed their clothes and swim. They were reluctant at first but as soon as Abdullah took his clothes off, letting them see his hard meaty cock, and jumped into the pool the others soon followed suit. Within the hour they retreated to the prince's playroom and spent the night enjoying man sex at its finest.

Abdullah formed a bond with the six men that night that was not only sexual but religious as well. He showed them the path to Allah, something the six of them carried throughout their lives. The more time they spent together the easier and more pliable they became for Abdullah. He offered them something they never had in their life before, acceptance of who they were, a path, a purpose and more money than they could ever spend in their lifetime. In return all they had to do was funnel intelligence information to Abdullah.

Over their nineteen plus years, with Abdullah puppeting them, they all took jobs in Washington and grew within the governmental ranks. He made sure they spread themselves evenly between the agencies, FBI, CIA, NSA, Homeland Security, Secret Service and the newest offshoot - the agency that was supposedly so covert it didn't even have a name. In theory it was to be the biggest secret around but Abdullah had successfully planted a mole even before the doors opened.

Now everything was in jeopardy - and it was all one of his moles fault.

After Al's death he tried to contact Ivan. He wanted Ivan to come to Cairo to be with him. When he found out that he left Damascus he followed his trail to Moscow. His informant in Moscow had already searched Ivan's apartment months earlier when Abdullah did a comprehensive background check on Ivan. They reported that the apartment was bugged, something that Abdullah thought Al had done even though he didn't think Al was smart enough to do something like that. Now they reported that Ivan had been seen with two American's who they were able to link to the CIA. Two days later Ivan disappeared.

Abdullah's immediately contacted his man in the CIA who in turn put the word out to the other six. Less than a half a day later Abdullah had his answer - the man he knew as Ivan Sergovei was in fact Aaron Mitchell and was part of the covert agency within Langley.

At first he was pissed...just plain fucking pissed off. How could he have not known that there was a mole planted in the Middle East? Through his secured channels he got his answers hours later. Aaron Mitchell had been sent to Syria to extract information on governmental movements and the splintering factions within the government. The mole, wanting to keep Aaron's cover intact, didn't report this to any of his counterparts or to Abdullah. Of course the mole didn't know about Abdullah's connection to the General or that a month into the operation he had met Ivan/Aaron.

Abdullah's outrage soon morphed into an opportunity of a lifetime. His anger was abruptly under control, knowing that he would deal with his messenger and his reluctance to convey information later. What was more important was that suddenly Aaron Mitchell was now going to be the pawn that would propel Abdullah to finally get what he wanted all of his life.

The General's death had not only the Muslim world but the entire world on edge. There had been no progress made in discovering who committed such a heinous crime. Who better to set up as the murderer then the General's homosexual lover - an American covert agent sent to Syria to destroy the government?

It was the best of all worlds for Abdullah. Al and his western ways would be disgraced leaving his faction splintered and America would carry the weight of the world on its shoulders. Already there was the trouble they were having in Israel now this...it couldn't have worked out better. The only problem was that to make the entire plan work he had to find Ivan or Aaron or whoever the fuck he had become now.

Of course that would be setting Ivan up to be the sacrificial lamb and Abdullah wasn't sure he wanted to give him up that easily. He had his men in his stable to satisfy his sexual needs, but he needed Aaron Mitchell to satisfy the passion he had lost with Al.

He had gone over so many scenarios in his mind as to how to blame Ivan and save him at the same time. The only thing he could come up with was to have him killed as far as the world was concerned and keep him hidden away in his palace in Cairo. In his mind it appeared to be the best of both worlds but the reality was that he wanted Ivan to come to him on his own accord and not a his prisoner or slave.

The time had come for Abdullah to begin his ascension to greatness, to stand arm and arm with Allah and rule his people. Reaching over for his phone Abdullah dialed a number and waited for the person on the other end to pick up.

"It's time to clean house." He said without the benefit of a greeting.

"Yes sir. I understand. I will take care of everything."

"Allah will welcome his soldiers with open arms." Abdullah spoke in a hushed reverenced tone before clicking off the line.

*

That evening in a Georgetown townhouse the six men owned collectively and used for their private meetings and get togethers sat down to their monthly dinner. As usual the food was catered by the best Middle Eastern restaurant in Washington DC. Before eating the men recited their du'a, their personal prayers then silently passed the food around the table. It had become their way to eat in silence, taking their time to recognize all the blessings that Allah afforded them. The time for talk always waited until the meal ended.

Talk never resumed. All six men were dead before they reached mid-way through the meal. If anyone had looked through the window to the house they would have seen six men sitting around the table their heads nodded down as if they were praying, but they never even had time to recited a last prayer for Allah to take them to his bosom...death was instantaneous.

*

I woke up early Saturday morning feeling restless and closed in. I still felt like crap for the way I treated Joel the evening before. I shouldn't have ever allowed the evening to go as far as it did. To absolve my guilt I promised myself I would make another apology to him before I left Raleigh. That is if he would even talk to me.

Today, however, I decided to take a road trip hoping the open road would have the same impact on me as it had two days earlier. This time I decided to head towards Columbus Ohio an eight hour road trip from Raleigh. I was going to follow the same protocol, get as far away from Raleigh, steal a cell phone and make a call.

Just outside of Lexington Kentucky I pulled into a gas station to fill the bike. At the pump next to mine was a convertible with the top down. The driver had stepped away and I couldn't help but look over to car where I saw not one, not two but three cell phones - two sitting on the passenger side seat, one on the floor. I could also tell that the one of the floor was a cheap burner cell. I counted to ten while I looked around and in a flash moved from the bike to the car and back again before anyone was the wiser.

Half way between Lexington and Columbus I pulled over in a rest area and took the phone out. It was fully charged and had thirty-five minutes left on it. I dialed the next number down the list, hung up, dialed, hung up and let it ring. Like before the old man picked up on the second ring, I remained silent and all he said was 3339427729 and hung up.

Using another code I had memorized I unscrambled the numbers and dialed the new number I was given. The phone was picked up on the first ring even before I had a chance to hang up and call back again.

"Hi." Lawrence's voice sounded in my head was like music in my soul. I had never been so happy to hear such a small word like 'hi' before. "Don't worry, this phone is a hundred percent secure and I'm sure you took precautions too."

"I miss you." He said a moment later when I still hadn't said anything. "I'm glad you ran. This thing is getting really complicated."

"What's happening?" Why couldn't I have been more considerate and asked him how he was first?

"I got a call this morning to go to a house in Georgetown. I was met by my counterpart in the FBI. We walked into the house and there sitting around the dining room table were six dead men. Stan Leads from the FBI, Derrick Highland from the CIA, George Wills from the Secret Service, Hank Fenner from the NSA, Tim O'Dowd from Homeland Security...and...um...well...Brian was there also...he's dead Steve."

I thought I should have been shocked, but the reality was that I had begun to suspect Brian all along and if Lawrence's cryptic message he posted on CL to me rang true so did he.

"I'm sorry they are dead...but I can tell by the tone in your voice that something else is happening."

"It's not good..." Lawrence's voice was raw. "The FBI found the lethal canister of gas attached to HVAC system in the basement of the townhouse. They also found two partial prints at the back door but found one full print on the inside lip of the canister..."

"Oh...let me guess...It was my print on the canister and they were able to connect the partials to me also?"

There was silence on the phone.

"I didn't do it Lawrence. I'm was nine hours from Washington...and I wasn't alone last night...I can prove it." The silence on the phone was deafening until Lawrence spoke again. I knew what he was thinking and as much as I wanted to justify myself it just wasn't the time.

"That's not all..."

"I can imagine." The sarcasm in my voice was thicker than split pea soup.

"In Brian's briefcase they found documents that connect you to the General's death...they are saying the men were meeting to work up a plan to capture you."

"So these men become heroes and I become the most wanted man in the world...great." I sighed deeply.

"Steve. Let me come to you. We can work this thing out together. I can't stand the thought of you being alone right now."

"No...I have to disappear and I refuse to bring you down with me. This is the last time we can speak Lawrence." I paused fighting off the emotions I was feeling.

"Please Steve...even the old man feels I should go to you. He knows you didn't do it."

"No. Tell him I appreciate it...but I have to get out of this myself."

There was a long silence. I knew I had to end the call.

"Lawrence ...we talked about this in Fredericksburg. We both knew this was a crap shoot. I don't want you to live in the 'what might have been' mode, just move on...please."

Before he could say anything I hung the phone up.

Like before, I stripped the phone down throwing it piece by piece as I headed down the highway towards Columbus. As emotionally flooded as I was I knew I had to move on, the sooner I could find a way out the sooner I could try and salvage things.

I made a pit stop at an electronics store I had scoped out on the internet and picked up some items that were lacking in my arsenal I could possibly need going forward. I spent a total of two hours in Columbus before turning back to Raleigh weaving my way between highways and country roads not knowing whether I was being tracked or not.

I needed a plan, something concrete to give me hope that I was going to get out of this mess. I could only run so far and hide for so long. Eventually my money would run out or I would have the bad luck to be in the wrong place at wrong time.