The CIA Doublecross Pt. 01

As we sat down, I said, "So that's fully encrypted, connected on an encrypted VPN?"

He gave me a "don't be a smartass" look and nodded. I pulled out my iPad, looked up his device address on the Starbucks WiFi and sent him a quick text right through his software wall.

As it bonged its arrival, he looked at the machine and asked, "How'd you do that?"

"Trade secret. I get paid to know things."

Marsha was enjoying this. "Mr. Cooper," she began...

"Call me Mark. I haven't been a Mister for years."

"Mark, you seem to have friends in high places. Like on our Board. But there isn't a speck of documentation telling us to give you sensitive information. We could have pink slips Monday morning for even talking to you."

That took some air out. I could see wheels turning that he was on a wild goose chase.

"Mark, if you are legit, give us some reason to believe you. You know my friend Karl, and that's one thing in your favor. Give us some more."

He closed up his machine and asked, "Is there a park around here?"

Marsha nodded and said, "About two blocks away."

"Let's go for a walk."

Still sipping our drinks, we strolled to the park, saying very little. He carried himself well, looking the buffed agent part. The guy you wanted on your side in a fight.

We didn't smile. "Mark, if you want help, give us something to go on. Otherwise, Marsha and I have a planned hike that's waiting."

"You know why guys like me don't tell amateurs like you what we are doing? Because there are nasty people out there with armored knuckles to beat the shit out of you, and needles to make you talk. You don't talk because you want to, you talk because you don't have any choice."

I stared at him. "Yeah, you scared me. But until we hear a good reason to give you information, you aren't getting any. Marsha and I are on the high ground, and if you don't like that, take your arguments back east and see how far you can get."

His smile was very thin lipped. "All right. One of your divisions makes gyroscopes. Mostly, they are a commercial product. But in a special lab, you produce very small, very precision versions for missiles. Highly classified stuff. One of them turned up in the luggage of a dead guy in Singapore. We are damn lucky the cops didn't quietly sell it to the highest bidder. But we have it back, and the serial number is from a batch not yet delivered to the system integration facility. There are four hundred of them in padded metal containers under chain of custody. When the military tracked them down in an interim storage facility, there was one in the container with the same serial number, but it was garbage inside."

I said, "Could have been substituted a bunch of places."

"Yes, but whoever it was had to know a lot about the whole business."

Marsha said, "You need employment records to see if anyone has left that group in the past few months. And anyone new entering it. And you need background information on all the individuals who have any kind of access."

I asked, "How come an FBI team hasn't come down on us like a ton of bricks?"

The smile was a little wider. "You two are smarter than I figured. The CIA and military intelligence are perturbed about this penetration. They would like to break the group that's doing it, and they especially want to know if the other side's military is directly involved. That is supposed to be a no-no."

Marsha responded, "So if this is inside, there may be people in administrative jobs who would notice strangers digging in personnel files."

"Yes, Ma'am. You could be sitting there laughing inside, with a hundred thousand already in an offshore account, making sure I don't get a lead on the guy in the lab or the transportation group who did this."

Marsha glanced at my unhappy face and turned back. "Fuck you, Mark Cooper. I was trained in Sofia and Budapest, and it takes more than an ex-CIA beefcake to break me."

For a moment, he looked unhappy. More unhappy than I did. Then the smile returned and he said, "Shit Marsha, you almost had me. That was smooth. You sure you don't want to be an agent?"

I said, "She does that to me all the time. Hard to deal with except with the palm of my hand."

Marsha was not amused. "Ok, I am on the hot seat first. Some of the information you need is electronic and some is still paper. All of the background paperwork is kept out of the computer. How do you want to handle access? I have routine permission to look at individual files, but not a whole group."

I sat there watching my weekend with Marsha evaporating until she said, "We had a breach last summer and the weekends are locked down very tight. Not worth taking a chance of getting caught. I'll have to wait until Monday to start."

I said, "Most of our equipment is taken off the net on the weekend, except the read only web files for the public. Makes the workaholics pissed off, but CEO wants it that way. And an attempt to spoof an address is way too obvious anyway. I'll have to think about this and see what I can do on Monday."

"By the way, somewhere there needs to be an accurate record of who did what with what authorization. Marsha and I are not getting hung out to dry if this blows up."

"What do you want?"

"Tuesday morning, Fed Ex delivers us personal signature required packages with a hand written letter from the CEO telling us how much he appreciates the special effort we are making to assist the confidential investigation of irregularities in the missile lab."

His eyes were back to hard. "That's close to blowing our cover."

"Yeah. That is the way it needs to be. Close."

After he left, I asked, "Are we really going on a hike?"

"Yes. I'll drive to the trailhead."

We climbed steeply up through an oak and madrone woodland. Her muscled legs and rear took the path with ease.

"Stop perving on me. I can feel your eyes."

"I'll admire your legs and fine ass all I want. Is there lunch on this hike?"

"If you behave yourself, there will be lunch and a swim too. Be quiet and look for the deer."

No deer, but after the best part of a mile, we approached a narrow asphalt road. She took the road and we went up another little ways and into a driveway. Around a curve was a low redwood house with overhanging roof nestled in the trees. A woman stood at the doorway, smiling at us. "You made it."

"Yes, he is a sorry specimen, but good enough for this hike."

She extended her hand and said, "Hi, I am Dolores Sanchez. Please come in. You must be Scott. Marsha has told me about you."

The voice was soft and the tone flirty. A short, compact body that told of Hispanic genes.

We went through the house to a patio with a sparkling pool beyond it. When I turned around, Marsha had her clothes off and was standing under an outdoor shower head.

"If you want a swim, wash first." She left the water running and dove neatly into the pool.

When in Rome, I said to myself and followed her through the shower and into the pool. Three laps later, Marsha was still going but I was winded. Dolores was bringing a tray of lunch plates to the table with the umbrella over it. "Beer or wine?" she called to me.

"Beer will be fine on a warm day," I called back to her.

Marsha and I climbed out of the shallow end together and were handed towels. "You can just use them to sit at the table. We are very informal."

The shrimp salad was delicious. I sipped my beer and tried not to look at Marsha's incredible tits.

Marsha leaned back and took a big gulp of beer. The towel was not quite covering the curly triangle of light brown hair at her crotch. She smiled at me. "If you like, Dolores will go for a swim, and there will be two naked women for your eyes to devour."

I looked at them. "Is there a reason why I am getting a free lunch and a free gallery?"

Dolores said, as she dropped the sundress to reveal nothing underneath, "The beginning of a long story is that I am her girlfriend and her shrink. You went too far with her last night, and now we need to talk."

Dolores was chunky, but there was a lot of taut muscle showing. "Where did she get that body?"

Marsha's breasts were in the sun, and loved it. "In college, she did soccer she learned from her father and brothers, but ended up in the triathlon. We wrestle a lot and she takes me every time."

I moved into the sun myself and closed my eyes. That might help figure this out.

Hands were wet with lotion, smearing my chest. More importantly, her boob was nudging my cheek.

"This towel isn't much cover for what you are doing to me."

"That's nice. We have plans for you. I told Dolores one time that you gave me divine orgasms. She wants to check you out. We both love cocks. At the right time and place, of course. Are you in a loving mood?"

"Mostly, I am in a confused mood."

She laughed and said to Dolores, who was approaching, "He says he is in a confused mood."

More laughter. I was taken to a lounger and more sunscreen applied, even to my erection. "Take a little nap, we have to plan the rest of the day."

Part of my brain said it needed answers, but another part said lying in the sun on this deck was a great way to spend Saturday afternoon, especially with beautiful naked women wandering around.

After a while, I heard her low and soothing voice. "Scott, just lie there and relax. This is a free consultation and we might as well stay out here on a nice afternoon.

I started to ask why I needed a free consultation, but she cut me off, saying, "Please don't interrupt me for a few minutes. We will get to your questions later."

I relaxed back down in the lounger and concentrated on being still. She continued, "Marsha came to see me two years ago. I have an unconventional reputation among psychiatrists and she said that was fine with her. I won't bother you with a rundown on her characteristics, since you know most of them.

"The reason she wanted help was because she was having success in her job, but suffering bouts of anxiety in which she was fighting demon clones of herself. It got bad enough that some days she wasn't sure whether she was the real Marsha or a clone. Some of the clones had nasty habits, like aggressive flirting in public.

"Together, we probed for causes of the clones and the anxiety. To shorten up almost a year of therapy, she was a witness to a brutal rape of a friend when they were thirteen..."

As she wove this story, I was feeling worse and worse. Last night's beating was looking more amateurish by the minute.

I smelled a familiar female odor, close by. I opened my eyes and Marsha's hip was six inches from the side of my head. She wasn't moving, just standing there, listening to Dolores. I reached up silently and took her hand, pressing it with both of mine. Her other hand toyed with my hair.

Dolores continued, "Marsha doesn't get big victories over her problem, just little victories. When she told you she was a reformed woman, it was the truth, but not the whole truth..."

Marsha eased herself on top of me, face up. My erection was sticking straight up and she spread her legs so that the plump lips of her sex wrapped around it. She squeezed her thighs to keep me trapped. Her head went down on my shoulder and her hands brought mine up to cup her breasts. She wiggled herself firmly in place and sighed.

Dolores stopped talking and threw a large towel over us. "I'm going to start dinner. I want both of you to concentrate on being absolutely still, saying nothing. Let your bodies communicate. Just skin on skin."

It was hard. I had a lot of apologies to make. I could tell she was deliberately slowing her breathing. I tried. She won.

In twenty minutes, Delores was back. "That's good. There's hope for you yet. Come into the back room with me."

This must be her bedroom. Floor to ceiling windows looking into an oak grove. On the night table was a tray with three frosty glasses. Looked suspiciously like dry martinis. Next to them, a plate with caviar dollops on crackers.

"Get in there and leave a place for me in the middle. Scott, you may serve the ladies before you get in."

She dropped her dress. "All right, we are having a toast..."

She waited and looked at us. "Well?"

I looked at Marsha and she looked back at me. My move. "I would like to toast my new girlfriend, if she will have me, to whom I have done a great injustice." I took an extra large swallow of the gin. The icy cold trickled down my throat.

Dolores was looking at Marsha, who had her face screwed up like she was concentrating on something. Then she relaxed and said, "I would like to toast my new boyfriend, if he will have me, whom I have treated very badly." The second large gulp tasted better than the first. Maybe I had to have more than one of these.

Marsha and I leaned across Dolores for a tender kiss. I reached down and gave the stiff nipple of the therapist a good pinch, followed by my tongue in her mouth.

Dolores caught her breath and said, "I would like to toast my former and future lovers. I like the chemistry, and I especially like two hard sexy bodies."

Marsha and I drained our glasses and set them to the side. Our cold tongues took up residence on a boob apiece. Our fingers made their way slowly down the tanned belly and into the trimmed forest. Marsha continued downward, pushing two and then three long fingers into a leaky twat. The peek a boo clit was left to me. I nibbled lightly on the breast, and rubbed on and around the clit.

Marsha said, "She wants you. It's ok. She and I get it on too."

I pushed the two of them together and positioned myself so my cock was buried in her cheeks from the rear. "I've never had sex with an analyst before. Does this get analyzed, or do we just get to have a nice fuck?"

"It won't be very nice if you don't hurry up." She pushed her behind at me and I unconsciously did the obvious thing and jammed all the way into a hot, wet pulsing cunt.

"Ohhh, better. Keep that up."

Marsha was looking at me with a smile that said there had better be some left for her when I got done with Dolores.

In the next half hour, I did them both, more than once. Pounding, twisting screaming, coming. Marsha got my first load in the middle of a big orgasm. "Oh you are a nasty fucker. You're ruining me."

Dolores got an equally large saved up load, but she had to play second fiddle to the new girlfriend.

I lay there, panting and laughing. They were grinning and dripping on me. "I think you planned that. I think your insides wanted a workout. Are you happy yet?"

"Get up, get up. Clean yourself. Act like a gentleman should. They swung their legs up with kicks to my rear. I walked to the shower, acting injured.

The drink this time was a glass of unoaked chardonnay. Small hunks of fancy French cheese. They had on dressy sundresses. Their hair was fixed. A little eyeshadow. Lip gloss. Scent.

"What's going on? Are you expecting company? I haven't got any decent clothes."

"Sit and sip your wine. It's too expensive for a therapist's income, so you better appreciate it."

She sat in my lap and traded tongue swipes with me. "I'm only going to say one more serious thing tonight. You are good for Marsha and she is good for you. You both have vulnerabilities. Share them and love each other."

I leaned back and drew her down to my chest. "Thank you."

Marsha was sitting next to me and kissed Dolores' lips softly.

The doctor sat up and said, "Pretty sentimental. We'll be getting out the Norman Rockwell book next." She went to serve the dinner.

Marsha turned and lay her head in the warm spot in my lap. "We were bad, putting that trip on you. But the sex was ok?"

"I'm not supposed to answer questions like that. My father said that once you let women get you into rating sex, it leads to nothing but trouble."

"I can give you trouble if you like." Her fingers were probing between my legs.

"You and I have to have a talk about boundaries."

"Yes, we do. That was way too cruel last night."

"I'm sorry. I did apologize."

She was in the middle of saying, "A second time would be nice," when we were summoned to the patio. The entree was poached salmon and asparagus. She had made hollandaise. There was more of the fancy chardonnay. I felt myself sinking into a mellow glow.

I was not allowed to clear. There were strawberries, with or without ice cream.

Spooning my berries and ice cream, I said, "This isn't a trick? All I have to do is love this beautiful incredibly smart woman? And be nice to her therapist once in a while?"

They looked at each other and smiled. Marsha said, "Last night, just before I passed out, I swore I would get vengeance. But maybe we can be lovers instead."

After the kitchen was clean, we lounged in the living room, watching a movie. My eyes were closing. I heard Dolores telling Marsha that she was not letting either of us drive tonight, and felt myself being led to the bed and folded in.

The sun was in my eyes and fresh coffee in my nose. Someone was sitting on my rump. I could get used to this. "Dolores has bikes. We can go for a ride and clear out the cobwebs. There will be Sunday brunch after."

"We must be running up a terrific bill with the therapist. Don't they charge $200 a hour?"

Another unmistakable female body sat on me. "There are reduced rates for special friends."

I turned over under them. They looked more alert than I felt. Fetchingly alert. Tits reaching for the slanting sunlight in the room.

"We are going to cover up those bodies with biking clothes?"

"Sadly, yes. You have to save up. And be careful with that bike seat. It's hard on your male equipment."

There was a reason why Dolores had those impressive looking thighs. The road beyond her house was steeply up. Within a quarter of a mile, my legs were crying. At a mile, they were screaming and Dolores was smiling and waving gaily at her companions, who were falling farther and farther behind.

We groaned at each other and Marsha said, "If we quit, she will lord it over us forever."

"We could have an urgent need to go back to town to meet with Cooper."

"That's probably worse than this. I need to talk strategy for tomorrow with you."

"Are you sleeping with me tonight?"

At two miles, we were done and stopped to catch our breath. She looked serious. "Now that you know about my issues, maybe that is not a good idea."

I looked at her with my own serious look. "Why don't we go back to my trying to patch it up with a reformed girlfriend?"

She pushed her bike over to me and gave me a nice warm kiss. Then she stood back and said, "Ever since that thing Dolores made us do last night, my body wants to be close to you."

"What does your mind say?"

"My mind says it is confused."

I looked at her lithe torso and flushed face and my body wanted to be close to hers too.

"I'm confused also. What if we went to one of our places and worked on confusion."

Dolores appeared, idling down the slope on her brakes.

Marsha said, "This is great exercise but we have to go back to town to get ready for tomorrow."

She said, "Your issues are under control?"

Marsha said, neutrally, "I guess. At least enough for us to work together on the Cooper business."

"I want you both to promise you will come back and talk to me if your relationship goes in the ditch again."

Marsha was in charge. "Yeah. We'll come back anyway for another of those dinners and sleepover."

Dolores offered to drive us to Marsh's car at the trailhead, but we decided to hike. It was downhill.

Neither of us talked on the way to her apartment. A lot of emotional ground was covered yesterday, and right now we weren't sure whether we were on quicksand or not.

The apartment was the way she left it Friday night to visit me, a mess.

On the way in, she was already picking clothes off the floor. I started on the kitchen, doing the dishes and putting food packages away.