Amanda, CIA Agent Ch. 07

Shit, she thought, as she continued toward a nearby market. She really wanted to approach Reza again instead, for multiple reasons. If she could have explained, she'd have argued Reza's position on the centrifuge's sub-net was ideal. And importantly, he believed their encounter was his own idea. However, she was forced to admit Reza was extremely clever, and his unwillingness to leave his laptop unguarded might not have been an accident.

If she was honest, she also had to admit she'd enjoyed their time together a great deal, and she was eager to experience his lovemaking skills again, not to mention his charm and exceptional looks. She realized she'd allowed her personal feelings to compromise her objectivity.

The most important thing was to get the worm inside the airgap. Once on the Natanz LAN, it would replicate quickly until it reached the centrifuges. And Mahmoud was known to be doddering and flaky, so much so that he struggled to use his laptop effectively. Outwitting him would be much easier.

Surprisingly, his advanced age had reportedly not diminished his lustful pursuit of young women, and his behavior had become more brazen since his wife had passed away the previous year. His success had been limited, but this only increased his ardor and led him to pursue prostitutes. He hadn't recently had an opportunity to travel to his favorite bordello in Qom, so she could expect him to be horny as a hamster. She'd just have to avoid making him suspicious and hold her own revulsion in check.

Having reached the market, she made a show of perusing a few racks of headscarves and accessories, then purchased a bottle of mascara and an eyeliner pencil before heading back to her hotel. After passing through the lobby, she encountered a stream of men wearing conference name tags and realized the lunch break had just begun. She watched discreetly for Mahmoud but didn't see him.

She decided to skip lunch and walked toward the elevators. As she approached, the elevator door began to close, but a man put out his hand. However, the car was already filled. She was about to signal she'd wait for the next car when she spotted Mahmoud at the back, talking with two others. Impulsively, she stepped aboard.

The car stopped again at the mezzanine level, and two more men pushed on. She stood in the middle of the car, and initially, she'd managed to maintain space between her and the others, but now that became impossible. The second new arrival pushed himself backwards, and she found herself squeezed between him and the protruding belly of the man behind her, who she realized was Mahmoud.

He immediately noticed her, but his friend was the first to squeeze her butt. Then the car stopped again, and several men got out, leaving Amanda alone with Mahmoud and his two buddies. The same man squeezed her butt again, but this time she batted his had away.

"You didn't mind before," he said.

"Careful, Davood," said the other friend, "she could be someone's wife."

Mahmoud scoffed. "She's a whore, Mohsen."

Even though this conclusion played into her hand, Amanda's nostrils flared at the affront, but she composed a neutral expression before she turned and met his eye.

They arrived at Amanda's floor, and she waited a beat before moving toward the door. She wasn't surprised when the first man grabbed her wrist. As the doors closed again, she pulled her arm away.

"Sixty thousand tomans to take the three of us for the night," said Mahmoud.

It was a paltry sum, the equivalent of less than $20, yet Amanda knew this was a typical rate for prostitution in Iran. But still, by now she'd heard countless proclamations of her beauty, and seen the truth in so many men's expressions, suggesting she should be worth a large multiple of the average rate. She couldn't help feeling insulted.

She had to remind herself of her objective. She was here to commit espionage, not to maximize her profit from prostitution. Still, there was no need to compromise her safety.

"For that, I'll take only you, for an hour."

"All right," said Mahmoud, "but I get you for two hours."

She nodded and let him pull her toward his room.

He led her inside. "Take off your clothes."

She took her time stripping for him, as he watched closely. When she was completely naked, he gathered up her clothes.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure you don't rob me and run out." He stuffed her clothes inside his suitcase, locked it, and put it in the closet. Then he disappeared into the bathroom, emerging naked a moment later.

He sat on the end of the bed. "Give me a blowjob."

She knelt at his feet, bent beneath his massive belly, and took his cock in her mouth. He was slow to respond, but even so, it took her only minutes to make him cum.

He rested for a minute, catching his breath, then struggled to his feet with a groan and headed for the bathroom. He didn't close the door, but as soon as she heard the water running, she stood and carefully opened the closet. The door creaked loudly, and she froze, then scurried back to the bed, but when the water stayed on, she returned to the closet, unzipped his valise, and removed his laptop. Unfolding it, she placed it on the bureau, inserted her flash drive, and hit the power button. The screen came on for a moment before going dark again, and she heard the hard drive spinning as the worm copied itself onto the laptop.

Someone pounded on the door, making her jump. For a moment, she vacillated. The copying wasn't yet complete.

The pounding came again, and she heard Mahmoud calling out to her. "Answer the door."

"I can't. I don't have any clothes."

The water turned off, and Mahmoud came out in a huff, dripping wet, wearing only a towel, and opened the door. His annoyance vanished when he saw his two friends, Davood and Mohsen.

At the sound of their voices, she shut the laptop and placed a newspaper over it, then retreated further into the room. A moment later, they were both inside.

There was nowhere to hide. As they both stared at her, she shivered and crossed her arms over her body, trying to control her rising panic. "Give me my clothes," she said to Mahmoud in a high voice from the corner on the far side of the bed.

"Lie down on the bed and open your legs," said Mahmoud. "You still have an hour and a half of work to do."

This was exactly the scenario she'd sought to avoid. She was strong, but his two friends were young and fit, and there was no way she could fight off the three of them. Once they'd overpowered her, they could do whatever they wanted. She could scream, but she'd heard no activity nearby, and anyway, her cries were likely to be ignored.

There was no escape. She was going to get fucked.

She shook her head, but Davood and Mohsen were already moving. They each took an arm and pulled them away from her body. As she struggled, Davood took her breast in his hand. Mohsen ran his hand up her thigh to her crotch.

"No," she said as she thrashed.

"Hold still," said Mohsen as he spread her labia apart.

She gyrated her hips, and he lost his hold on her crotch. She aimed a kick at his balls, but he turned away in time.

"Bitch!" Together they hauled her onto the bed.

"No," she yelled again, still trying to pull free. Mohsen grasped her wrists and held them together over her head, and she kicked out at Davood as he mauled her breasts. Then he pulled off his pants and underwear and climbed on top of her. She continued to struggle, but he rolled his weight onto the inside of her thigh, pinning her leg.

Now she was helpless. She looked up at him, poised above her with excitement in his eyes and a satisfied smile on his lips. He's going to do it, she thought. He's going to fuck me, and I can't stop him. Her face burned, and her eyes filled with tears.

She watched him spit into his hand and wipe his saliva onto his cock, and felt him press his knob between her labia. Then he pushed his hips forward, and he was inside her.

Then his thrusts came quickly, and hard, and as the impacts marched her across the mattress, she tried to distract herself by studying the pattern in the plaster ceiling, but the weight of his body commanded her attention, as did his pungent odor and animalistic grunting.

Unable to deny the reality of his cock inside her, she told herself it wasn't so bad. She'd taken so many men's dicks during her habituation. As Davood continued to fuck her, she remembered a few of the more unpleasant encounters. She hadn't serviced any of them by choice.

However, none of those men had physically forced her. This time was different.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried again to transport herself to a different place and time, but repeatedly the raw sensations dragged her consciousness back to the present. Her mind was every bit as imprisoned as was her body. As she grasped that fact, panic and fear consumed her.

Davood climaxed and rolled off her, and when Mohsen released her hands, she tried to scramble away, but again the two men overwhelmed her. Now Davood took her wrists and held her down as Mohsen removed his pants and penetrated her. Her cheeks wet, she lifted her chin, trying to turn her face away from him as he began to deliver his own relentless pounding.

Her sustained, interminable struggle finally exhausted her, and she let herself go limp. Terror gave way to acceptance, and with it came a recognition of her own part in this outcome. She'd chosen NCS with full knowledge of her role. This mission had been assigned, but she would have volunteered if asked. She wanted to avenge her father's death, and to do so, she'd signed on as a whore. Her wages were vengeance rather than currency, but a whore was still a whore.

And whores got fucked. Each person had their role to play in life, and her role was to be a beautiful, desirable hole, into which men poked their dicks whenever they got the urge. Nothing more.

Her country's future was also at stake, and her own wishes and dreams were no longer of any importance. She'd sold them all, along with her body, and her soul.

Therefore, the rage beginning to boil inside her was misdirected. The two men delivering this endless fucking were just dicks with bodies attached, doing what dicks were meant to do. This entire situation was her own choice. Now she'd decided she didn't like it, but she had nobody to blame but herself.

Not long after she reached this conclusion, Mohsen reached his climax, and finally the two men released her. Mahmoud had long since finished his shower and dressed, and now the other two put on their pants and left for their afternoon seminars without a moment's concern for her or an iota of shame for their behavior.

"I have a meeting too. You need to leave," said Mahmoud, holding the door open for her.

She still lay on her back, naked, legs splayed, semen oozing out of her onto the coverlet. After a moment, she found the energy to sit up. "Give me my clothes."

He reached into the closet and removed her manteau, pants, and lingerie from his suitcase. He dropped them on the floor in a tangled heap.

She rose from the bed, feeling each movement as she bent to retrieve her things. Returning to the corner of the bed, she used the coverlet to wipe away the worst of the mess between her legs, then pulled on her panties. She took her time with her bra and outer clothing, hoping for an opportunity to retrieve her flash drive, but Mahmoud never looked away.

When she finally stood up, he took some folded bills from his pocket and pressed them into her hand, then ushered her out. He headed for the elevator, and she walked more slowly, letting herself fall behind. As soon as he rounded the corner, she doubled back to his room, picked the lock, collected her flash drive, and placed his laptop back in its case.

With a sigh of relief, she pulled the door shut behind her and made her way back to her room. Thankfully, Farwan had not yet returned, so she had time for a long shower. When she emerged, it was only 6pm, but she went straight to bed.

The following day was the last day of the conference. In the morning, Amanda remained in bed until mid-morning before summoning the will to shower and dress. As she took the elevator downstairs and crossed the lobby, her shoulders slumped. She shuffled her feet and kept her head down. She couldn't escape the feeling that everyone knew she'd taken money to let three men fuck her.

They'd paid her only $20. She wasn't even a high-priced whore. Becoming a streetwalker would be a step up.

As her chin quivered, she stepped outside, and as she squinted into the bright sun, she felt fresh tears stream down her cheeks. She resolved that on her return to Langley, she'd tell Percy what happened. No doubt he'd blame her, but maybe she'd feel better after she took her punishment.

After drying her tears, she scrawled a new message on the post, advising Derrick of her success in seducing Mahmoud and placing the worm on his laptop. She had no prearranged codes for Davood or Mohsen, so news of those contacts would have to wait.

Farwan's presentation was in the afternoon, at a time when many participants had already gone home. While she waited, Amanda found a new message on the post, acknowledging her success and ordering them both to leave the country immediately. Amanda used the rest of the day to request exit visas and complete their travel arrangements back to Paris.

When Farwan returned to their room that evening, he sat down at the desk without acknowledging her.

"How did your presentation go?"

He kept his face in the scientific journal he was reading. "All right. There was hardly anyone there."

"We need to get an early start tomorrow. We have a 6am flight."

He put down the journal. "Where are we going?"

"Paris. My mission is over."

"But I have an important appointment with my department chair tomorrow afternoon."

"You don't understand. We're leaving the country. That's for your benefit as well as mine."

She softened her voice. "Did you decide whether you want to stay in Paris or go to New York? If you want to come to the U.S. with me now, I can make sure you clear immigration and take you to the man who'll provide your new identity documents."

"I want to go to New York. When can I see Gabrielle and Ibrahim?"

"I'll book us on a connecting flight from Paris to New York. You can see Ibrahim as soon as we arrive. But it will take a few days for Gabrielle to be released and brought to New York."

"Are you going to stay with me until Gabrielle gets there?"

She managed a smile. "No, I'm sorry, Farwan, I have to report to my leaders. But I'll make sure you're in good hands before I leave."

He nodded, then rose and reached out to lift the hem of her manteau.

"What are you doing?"

"If these are our last hours as husband and wife, I'm going to fuck you a few more times before we say goodbye." Pulling her manteau over her head, he cast it into the corner and jerked down her pants and panties.

She sighed and looked down at her clothes bunched around her ankles. She was still sore from the day before. Moreover, now that the end was in sight, she was eager to dispense with her wifely duties. But she wasn't surprised Farwan didn't feel the same way.

"What about Gabrielle?"

He looked away. "I have no intention of telling her about you." He unfastened her bra, then turned her and bent her over the edge of the bed. A moment later, he was inside her.

They had sex again two hours later, and afterwards she fell asleep. Then it was 3am, and they were hurrying to the airport. She didn't relax until they were on board their flight to New York.

* * *

Langley, Virginia, September 2007

Amanda sat in her oversize rolling armchair in the executive conference room, watching the senior leaders file in. The room was large, but obviously not large enough to hold the entire team for her recent Iran operation. She recognized Wilson among the new arrivals and gave him a discreet wave. He came over and took the seat beside her.

"Is it ok for me to sit here?" She didn't want to repeat her breach of protocol the prior month, but there were no smaller chairs against the outer walls.

Wilson waved his hand. "You're fine. You're the only junior staffer coming today. Special privileges for the woman of the hour. Don't be surprised if Derrick and the others have sour grapes later."

She nodded and twisted her pearls around her finger until it turned purple. She put her hands beneath the table. She still felt ashamed of her behavior in Tehran, and believed it was only luck that produced a favorable outcome. It was hard to accept the praise now being heaped upon her.

When all the seats were filled and a dozen others stood against the far wall, Lawrence Rudisil called the meeting to order. The lights dimmed, and he used his remote to display a web page. Then he split the screen, and to the left appeared an image of a middle-aged man. "Many of you already know David Katz from Mossad's Cyber Warfare team. Please go ahead, David."

"Thanks, Larry. Some of you may be aware that last week, Amanda Stevens successfully introduced our worm onto the laptop of an Iranian scientist, who carried it back to his office. From there it spread over the Natanz LAN."

When David said her name, Lawrence extended his arm toward her. Sensing everyone's eyes on her, Amanda blushed and looked at the tabletop. At least he didn't comment on my appearance, she thought to herself. Last time he called me a piece of ass and showed a picture calling attention to my breasts. It hadn't helped that she'd worn a tight blouse. Thankfully, she'd dressed more modestly today.

David acknowledged her with a nod and a smile, then clicked his mouse, and a graph appeared next to his image. "This is a real time tracker for the number of centrifuges in Natanz infected with our worm. As you can see, yesterday we passed 1,000 infections. We activated the worm at noon today, Eastern time, which is 8:30pm in Natanz."

He clicked his mouse again. "The yellow shading shows the number of centrifuges whose speed has been increased. And here, the orange shading shows the number of subsequent speed reductions, representing the second phase of the stressing of the aluminum tubes."

Amanda could see the orange shading began to appear at 2pm, and it had quickly increased until it covered all the infected devices.

David looked into the camera. "It's now nearly 4pm at Langley, and approaching 12:30am in Natanz, so we should see the effect, any moment." A minute later, the tracker graph refreshed itself, and the rightmost bar now showed a slice in bright red. A minute later, a new bar showed more than half the infected centrifuges in red.

"Obviously, the red shading represents centrifuges suffering catastrophic damage. We're now at 672 centrifuges destroyed. Now 891. Now 1,026."

There were whoops and cheers from many of those around the table, and Lawrence began to clap. After a moment, Amanda joined in. She felt such a surge of pride in the team's shared accomplishment, she couldn't keep from grinning.

The applause and cheering grew louder, and she saw Lawrence step around the end of the long table. When he stood beside her, he motioned for her to get up, and after a moment of uncertainty, she rose. He pantomimed a high five, and she raised her arm and smacked his palm with her own. Then he hugged her, holding her body tightly against his chest for a long moment as she looked at the stranger next to her, pink cheeked. After that, it seemed everyone wanted to hug her, including several men she hadn't met.

When she finally returned to her seat, she noticed David Katz was still on the screen, waiting patiently. Lawrence noticed too, and he called for quiet. "Sorry David, I know it's very late there in Tel Aviv. Please continue."