The Gray Man Ch. 33 - Isabella

Gray sat in the small, dimly lit, windowless office in an inconspicuous corner of The Warsaw Chopin Airport. The table and chair were World War II era gun metal gray. There was little else in the room other than a scattering of old travel brochures, another small table with a Mr. Coffee that looked to have been last used in the 1980's and some coffee stained papers.

Most people would be anxious or nervous by now. Pulled into a room in a foreign airport, told nothing other than to wait. TJ knew the drill though. Somewhere in the room, maybe one of the outlets or in the light fixture was a camera and in another room with nicer desks and chairs someone or some ones were watching him. The people that wanted to talk to him were sending a basic message of who was in control and who had the power. It's a game that Ghost had played from both sides of the locked door on more than one occasion.

TJ looked around the coffee stained papers and found an old Bic pen. The kind with the blue plastic cap that always got chewed up in high school or college. He hid his smirk as he started to write. He wasn't writing anything of value or importance. However, he sat at such an angle that it would take a perfectly placed camera to know that he was simply writing a grocery list of nonsense.

In a very subtle way, TJ had turned the tables on the ones watching. They could have walked in and taken the paper away but that would have been to admit that TJ had something they wanted. After about 15 minutes of doodling and another 15 of writing nonsense he found another piece of paper and wrote in large block letters. "Two can play the game, but only one can win. Shall we talk?"

Gray turned the paper around and held it up as he slowly panned the probable locations of the camera or cameras.

Gray guessed it took another 15 minutes before the door finally swung open with a quiet creak. In stepped a man, tall and imposing, dressed in the uniform of the Polish Special Forces.

As the Special Forces Captain walked into the room the smirk returned to TJ's face. TJ's pale eyes met the Polish Captain's eyes, neither willing to avert or lower their gaze to show submission. To those watching and listening in the outer office, it looked like a showdown at high noon in an old western movie.

Neither spoke as Captain Kowalski spun a chair around, straddled it and sat down, resting his forearms on the back of the gun metal gray chair.

Kowalski finally broke the silence with a smirk, "Well, if it isn't the world's worst traveler, Benjamin Reynolds."

Gray shot back with a sly grin, "Well if it isn't the world's worst Special Operations Officer, Marek Kowaski. The man who couldn't tell a briefcase from a duffel bag. How in the hell did you get a cushy airport gig?

Kowalski laughed, "It's not what you know, it's who you know."

TJ cocked his head, "Or whose ass you've kissed."

Kowalski's eyes narrowed, "You still got that hideous taste in neckties, I see."

Gray chuckled, "At least I don't go around dressed for combat 24/7 like a wannabe Rambo."

Kowalski raised an eyebrow, "Wannabe? At least I'm not using a fake passport wearing a monkey suit. Pencil pusher."

Gray leaned forward, the tension in the room dissipating as their old banter continued, "You've always been the guy who thinks a grenade is the solution to every problem."

Kowalski couldn't help but grin, "Well, it usually is, isn't it?"

Gray and Kowalski exchanged a few more friendly insults, their laughter gradually filling the room. The tension that had been present upon Kowalski's arrival began to lift, replaced by the camaraderie of old friends reunited.

Finally, they couldn't contain their laughter any longer, and Kowalski extended his arms, "It's good to see you, Ghostman - What the hell are you doing in my neck of the woods, with a damn good forged passport in a suit?"

TJ nodded, "Too old to hump through the mountains every day. War is for the kids - my job now is to try to keep them out of war."

Kowalski shook his head, "Please tell me you aren't doing some political dick sucking."

Gray shook his head, "No, more alphabet soup type of shit."

Marek Kowalski shook his head, "The official reason I had you brought here was to let you know that Moscow is a bit displeased with Mr. Reynolds. It turns out one of their assets disappeared, one of their SVR majors was tied to a chair in his apartment. I find it highly suspicious that chatter picks up about something like that, then we have reports of a Belarusian plane in our airspace, THEN you show up in my Area of Operations."

TJ nodded, "Captain Kowalski, I can neither confirm nor deny knowing anything about the horrible tragedy the Russians are facing."

Marek Kowalski shot Gray the middle finger and TJ fired one back.

Kowalski stood, "It's damn good to see you, Ghostman."

Gray stood up, and the two friends embraced in a bear hug, clapping each other's backs. "You too, Marek. It's been too long."

Their laughter echoed in the small office as they settled back into the familiarity of their friendship. The two talked for another hour until there was a knock at the door. Kowalski stood, opened the door, and ushered in a young man wearing a pair of jeans, a dress shirt and a blazer. He was carrying a small bag.

He looked like a normal business traveler in the modern world. Maybe a young tech exec or pharmaceutical rep other than his eyes which took in everything and his hair which was combed perfectly.

When he entered the room he looked at Kowalski and then at TJ. "Mr. Gray, I am William Morton with the FBI. The Station Chief sent me. He also wanted to convey his best wishes."

Gray opened the bag and found a pair of jeans, a light blue oxford button down shirt, a pair of loafers and a navy blue sportcoat and a passport for Thomas Patrick James. Marek spoke, "If the Russians are looking for Reynolds, best to go home being yourself."

The young agent nodded, "If you could change, then I will take your suit and destroy it along with the SVR uniform we recovered from the plane."

TJ didn't hesitate to change clothes. When you have spent as many days in a barracks or showers it just didn't matter. Of course, it also didn't hurt that there had been very few times he could remember seeing someone's dick that compared to his.

Gray took off the suit jacket and tie, unbuttoned the shirt and took it off as well, placing them all over the back of the gunmetal gray steel chair. He slipped off the shoes and socks as well before he undid his belt and took off his pants.

The young FBI agent gasped and Marek burst out laughing. "Jesus Ghostman, I had forgotten how fucking huge your prick is."

Gray took the ribbing in stride. "Better to have a big prick than be one, Captain."

Captain Kowalski shook his head, "Maybe I have to be one because I don't have one."

The young FBI agent blushed, "I am glad they sent me instead of Amelia. Changing in a public bathroom could have blown your cover."

This caused Kowalski to laugh even harder. "Do you seriously think with a dick that big that The Ghostman would care where he changed. Hell, if my prick was half that size I'd change in Baggage Claim at the beginning and end of every fucking shift."

TJ dressed and gathered up his diplomatic passport and appropriate ID to catch a flight back to London where he would spend a couple of days, debrief MI-6 and MI-5 to show thanks for their cooperation then fly back to DC to catch up with Gretchen regarding Pelican Intel.

Much to his disappointment Fiona was not at the airport to greet him. Gray caught a taxi to the hotel in Hyde Park. He was tired, of course he seemed to constantly stay tired these days.

He called Angela, the call went to voicemail. TJ checked the time difference and he realized it was around 9 AM in California and if he knew Gretchen she was on a surfboard somewhere.

Afterwards he called his cousin to let her know that he was safe and would be home in a couple of days.

She sounded better than she had in months when she answered the phone. The pair made small talk for a few minutes before TJ pivoted the conversation.

TJ leaned back on the bed in his hotel room, "How are things going with the company setup?"

Gretchen's voice held a note of satisfaction as she began, "Well, first off, I wanted to let you know that the administrative staff is shaping up quite nicely. I think we've got good office staff and Allen has sent us his best IT folks. We've got some talented folks on board there. Our current hold up is the pointy end of the stick."

TJ raised an eyebrow, a spark of curiosity igniting within him. "The pointy end, huh? Is that what we are calling it now?"

Gretchen's tone turned serious. "That's the code that Barnett said when we are not on secure comms."

TJ chuckled that his attorney cousin was falling into the trap of military jargon and acronyms.

Gretchen, like a good attorney in cross examination, ignored Gray's chuckle, "Currently, our operations team is ONE - and that ONE is you. While you are very good at what you do, we need others. That's your department. You know what you are looking for and as Allen said last weekend, 'If we are going to do this, we are going to do it right.?

TJ nodded, "Allen huh? Interesting. I have a couple of ideas in mind, just need to do some reaching out. I'll make it happen."

Gretchen's voice conveyed her approval, "Thanks Teej. Also, I wanted you to know what a great asset Valerie Babin has been. She may not be the best person in an interview, but she is damn sharp at looking over resumes and finding inconsistencies or something that may be downplayed that could be a skill we are looking for."

TJ smiled, his thoughts turning to Valerie. "Interesting. I didn't realize she had clearance for that, but I will trust Barnett's judgment."

Gretchen went on, her tone growing more casual. "And speaking of Valerie, I spent a weekend with the Babins in Virginia. It was such a great time. Their house, it's amazing."

TJ chuckled, "Did they show you the basement?"

Gretchen affirmed, "I got the complete tour, from the swimming pool, to the helipad, to the wine cellar."

TJ had to poke the bear, "Did you see the entire basement?"

Gretchen didn't comment but Gray knew from the way his cousin's breathing changed that she did indeed see the entire basement, including the dungeon and she was embarrassed.

Gray chuckled, "Should we call you Madam now? Or is it Mistress? Or simply Ma'am?"

Gretchen's blush deepend, "Shut up, TJ."

Gray laughed, "So you did fuck them. Good girl Gretch."

She chuckled again, "Not them, just Valerie while Allen watched."

TJ chuckled again, "So which is it... don't tell me you submitted to Valerie."

It was Gretchen's turn to laugh, "You'll just have to use your imagination. Talk soon. Buh-bye."

TJ felt a stirring in his cock at the idea of Gretchen using a riding crop or a flog on Valerie Babin before forcing the wealthy socialite to eat her pussy. TJ imagined Gretchen standing over Valerie, her legs spread as Valerie leaned back, her tongue flicking over Gretchen's clit as Gretchen used the riding crop to gently - or not so gently - spanked Valerie's engorged clit.

The thoughts were enough that for the first time in a long time TJ fished his own cock out and started to stroke the length of it. Within moments Gray quickly picked up his pace, grunted in pleasure, and then abruptly stopped his stroking, taking his hands away entirely, enjoying the feeling of his huge erection pulsing in his own hand.

After a short rest his hand once again gripped his erection. TJ's hand moved up and down his cock as he closed his eyes and remembered every one of the women that he had fucked in the past couple of years from his own cousin to the feisty Fiona. From the actress Tess to the Russian sparrow just a few days ago. He gripped a little tighter and stroked a bit faster until he stopped again, allowing some precum to drip down his prick that caused each stroke to be a bit more pleasurable. As his hand went up, he gave a slight twist around the ridge. After a few moments his other hand came down, and began to feel one of his balls while he stroked himself.

Gray took his hand off his balls, and soon he was stroking himself firmly and deliberately with both hands. He continued for a couple of moments before he stopped completely, stood and walked to the bathroom.

TJ looked around and found the lotion packet that most hotels provided. He quickly tore it open and covered his raging hard with the contents, using his hand to spread it evenly before he returned to the two fisted stroke.

For the better part of a minute Gray stroked his long, thick prick with both hands before a small series of very guttural grunts slipped from his mouth. After a minute or so his hips thrust forward. His cock was now fucking his hands until several long white jets of cum shot from his cock like a firehose. Each spasm sent another rope of cum onto the bathroom window, then the faucets, and finally into the sink.

When he had recovered TJ started the shower and waited for it to warm up before he took one of the washcloths and got it wet. With the wet cloth he cleaned off the mirror and the faucets before washing the sink clean. He tossed the washcloth onto the floor before he eventually stepped into the shower to clean things up.

The next morning TJ found himself in a room quite the opposite of where he was a few days before in the airport in Warsaw. Today, he found himself in a well-lit, secure conference room in MI-6's London headquarters. Technicians handled various computers, screens and monitors.

As the door closed behind him the monitors flickered to life with live images from Washington, Paris, and Moscow. TJ sat in a theater style chair, flanked on one side by the MI-6 Special Agent he had met with before his mission.

Gray was not surprised to see Harrison Montgomery, the CIA Station Chief from Moscow, or Special Agent Ryan Jameson from the FBI, or even Admiral Barnett. He was a bit surprised by the others. He saw at the bottom of their pictures the organization they were with.

Around the screen were agents from ASIS, The NZSIS as well as CSIS. With his mission a success he was truly surprised that he was being read in to something at "5 EYES" level. * (5 Eyes Intelligence Oversight and Review Council. Members are: The United States, Canada, Great Britain, Australia and New Zealand)

The British Special Agent, who had provided his entry into Russia introduced the morning. "Ladies and Gentlemen, My name is Patricia Weiland, I was the MI-6 agent that provided coverage to Mr. James for his excursion."

Admiral Barnett interrupted, "Ms. Weiland, he is an agent of my government and he will be addressed as Mr. Gray or Ghost - any identity beyond that would jeopardize his effectiveness."

Weiland's jaw locked. "Perhaps as was evidenced in the video intercept that we obtained, him choosing to not fuck an SVR agent would also help maintain his cover."

Barnett took no bullshit, "As was expressed in his written report, he did this to obtain the intelligence of where the various surveillance devices were in his room so that he could execute his mission. Also, I think that Mr. Gray has earned an introduction so that he knows just who he is talking to."

TJ had to focus himself as immediately he realized that the 6 people on monitors as well as Agent Weiland had seen him break Katya. This was now the second time that his fucking a foreign asset had in essence created a porn film for those with the authority to watch.

Gray watched as Weiland's jaw tensed and then relaxed, "Very well, as I have stated previously my name is Special Agent in Charge Patricia Weiland, MI-6"

Next up were the three Americans. Also in the meeting were Agent Callum MacGregor from New Zealand, Special Agent Ava Foster from Australia, and Special Agent in Charge Marcus LaPerriere from Canada.

With introductions finished Weiland began, "Mr. Gray is here to add to his written report as well as to answer any questions that you may have in regards to this mission."

"Let's get started," Ghost's voice was calm but carried the authority of someone who had faced danger and emerged victorious. "The mission in Russia was successful. As I stated in my report Ms. Kuznetsova had passed secrets to Major Ivanov. While I was in his apartment I planted other evidence that Agent Montgomery had provided to hopefully throw the SVR off course enough to give us time to extract our assets."

TJ proceeded to provide a detailed account of the mission, including the intelligence gathered, the ruse to infiltrate Ivanov's apartment and the escape into Poland as well as his interaction with Marek.

Ava Foster of ASIS (Australian Intelligence Agency) spoke, "Mr. Gray. According to intelligence from your own CIA in Russia, the chatter is that you portrayed an SVR Colonel and had sex with Ms. Kunznetsova in front of Major Ivanov to prove her loyalty?"

TJ didn't hesitate, "I did. Please understand the way the SVR works. Their Command Officers do not think or operate the way we do. While you may believe that the School at Kazan and Sparrows are a thing of the past, they are not. An attractive SVR agent would be expected if not demanded to prove their worth and loyalty. Ms. Kuznetsova knew that better than most as one who had regular interactions with the SVR. Had she refused I would have tended to believe that she was truly using Ivanov to gather intelligence and had not provided true intelligence in return. As it turned out she understood that in order to defect she would have to prove her loyalty."

Callum MacGregor (New Zealand Security Intelligence Service) asked, "Is there anyone you didn't fuck, Mr. Gray?"

Gray chuckled, "Well, I fucked over Ivanov but didn't fuck him if that's what you're asking?"

LaPerriere asked the first meaningful question of the meeting, "Does CIA or the FBI know how much and what was actually compromised."

Jameson shook his head, "Ms. Kuznetsova is currently undergoing questioning to determine the extent of our exposure. Our concern is that it's not WHAT she shared, but WHO she shared."

Harrison chimed in, "Sufficient to say, keep very close tabs on your assets, especially in Belarus and Russia. You may need to do a cost/benefit analysis of pulling them from country."

Ava Foster pulled her glasses off and rubbed her temples, "Jesus. That bad?"

Jameson shrugged, "Again, Ms. Foster we are investigating the size of the brief and whether other assets were compromised or just ours. We will keep you informed as we learn more."

With the debriefing complete Weiland turned to TJ, "I find your methods misogynistic, and archaic."

TJ shrugged and winked, "It may be primitive, but as you've seen - very efficient and very effective."

Weiland stood, her jaw locking again, "It is because of men like you - making demands on young agents that we don't have more female agents. You are a neanderthal."

TJ smirked, "Or is it that you watched the video and you're jealous I haven't buried my cock down your throat?"

Weiland flashed with rage as she ordered Gray to be escorted from the building. When they were in the hallway the guard chuckled, "I have never seen the Iron Bat that frustrated. That was bloody epic."

TJ chuckled, "Iron Bat?"

The guard kept his eyes forward. "Yep, the old bat is tough as nails."

Gray shook his head, "Fair point.

TJ enjoyed a quiet flight back to Reagan. When he finally arrived at home the exhaustion of the past two weeks reared it ugly head. He undressed as he walked up the stairs and crawled into bed. Going through the mail and checking missed messages would wait until he got some rest.

The next few weeks were hectic as TJ started to talk to colleagues about potential front line agents for Pelican. He was looking for either experienced field operatives who were looking to retire after their 25 years, but still wanted to stay in the game... or young and aggressive agents who were frustrated at the lack of upward mobility in their current assignment.