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Subject: Whispered Identities - Chapter 168

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Date Posted: Friday, December 03, 06:43:51pm
In reply to: Lynuslinus 's message, "Whispered Identities - Chapter 151 & forward" on Wednesday, October 20, 08:23:26pm

“It is you....Nikita...right?”

“What? Oh my god! Adrian....is it really you?”

“Among other names...yes. You look well my dear....are you vacationing in Portugal?”

“I...ah....I...no, not really...but Adrian...you had an automobile accident...ah...in the Bahamas...you were presumed dead!”

“May I sit down my dear.” Nikita quicky motioned for her to be seated. “These aching bones are not what they use to be...especially after coming back from the dead.” She smiled.

“I don’t understand...I mean...you survived the accident. I...I just had a feeling you were not killed....that maybe a local had found you....there never was a body and.....!”

“Yes...it might have proved more convincing if there had been a body...but nevertheless.”

{See Chapter 43 - for recall on Adrian’s ‘accident’}

“But Adrian....what happened to you?”

“My vehicle was forced off the road as I was heading to the airport in Nassau...a nasty black Mercedes....my car went over a cliff ....and well, they presumed I would die.” She smiled. “But I decided to prove them wrong and the bastards who hired them. I clawed my way from the car before it burst into flames...I had a broken arm and leg...but simply decided I wasn’t going to die that way.”

“Oh my god...Adrian...how...who ....what did you do then?”

“I managed to pull myself far enough away from the burning car and lay for a number of hours before a local farmer spotted the smoke from the fire and came down the cliff to find me. He wanted to go and get help...and the police, but I convinced him to aid me himself. Another farmer with horses was on the road....and well, believe it or not, they rigged a type of sling and hauled me....or the horses did...back up to the road. I kept losing consciousness...but when I was awake, I made the farmer promise to not contact the authorities. Goodness knows what he must have thought. Anyway, between the two farmers, they brought me to a farm...the man with the horses...his place. I knew I had broken bones and if I was going to survive, would require medical help but....well, it’s interesting how things work....it turned out the farmer’s son was studying medicine and was at home. The young man set my broken leg and arm and....well, voila...here I am.”

“Adrian, I don’t imagine it was a simple as that....you must have suffered terribly...the pain...I can’t imagine.”

“One thing kept me alive, my dear, and that was to find out who had planned my death....however, to this day, I have not managed to verify that...or seek my revenge. Only one other person whom I trusted knows I am alive...Brently Jorgensen, an agent with the Swedish Intelligence Service. He was able to arrange funds for me to disappear so to speak....and live comfortably here in Portugal.”

The waiter appeared. “Would you like to order some food madam...perhaps some wine?”

Adrian looked up at the waiter. “Yes, bring me a bowl of what this young woman was eating and a bottle of your best white wine please.”

“Certainly,” replied the waiter.

“Adrian....I can’t believe you are sitting here....and how you survived the accident.”

“Ahhhh....I’m a tough old bird, my dear, hard to kill.”

“But...well, are you still attempting to find out who plotted your death....I mean....”

“I must admit as time goes by....I think it too much trouble to stir up the past. I’m quite happy living here....I have a small cottage just outside town....on the beach...lovely view. But...what about you...I must admit I did wonder what happened to you on the Italian mission. You must have inserted the detection chip into the De Albruzzi’s computer.”

“My gawd Adrian...that seems like such a long time ago...but...well, I’m not working for MI-6 anymore....in fact.....”, she glanced around the restaurant. “.....I have gone rogue...myself and another agent....we made some people in the intelligence community very unhappy and...well, they accused me of things and....oh, this is difficult to talk about.”

“It’s a nasty business Nikita....I found that out. May I ask who the other agent is?”

“He....ah....an Interpol agent...came to MI-6 undercover....I had to train him, if you can believe that.”

The waiter arrived with Adrian’s seafood soup, bread and a bottle of wine; he opened the bottle and poured a taste for Adrian. She nodded and he poured two glasses of the vintage, then disappeared.

“Well, my dear, I don’t want to pry...so if you don’t want to discuss what is taking place in you life....I understand.”

“No! I....ah....it’s just hard to trust anyone...to tell them....but then, you would understand that, right?”

Adrian smiled and sipped her wine. “Indeed I would Nikita. May I ask one question?”


“The Interpol agent you are with....is he that sexy Frenchman...what was his name...Michel something.”

“Michael Samuelle...yes....him.”

Adrian placed her wine glass on the table, broke off a piece of bread and smiled. “Good choice my dear.”

Nikita blushed. “He’s extremely intelligent...so smart with computers....and ...well, keeping us ahead of the....players...from finding us.”

“From what I recall from files on monsieur Samuelle....I do recall a photograph....very good looking.” She smiled.

“Ahhhh....he’s okay....yes.” Nikita’s face was growing red.

“Are you planning on staying in Portugal Nikita? Oh, pardon me....your plans are confidential after all....it’s just such a treat bumping into someone from the....other world.”

Nikita’s eyes darted around the restaurant. “Adrian....how do you know the people who tried to kill you will not find you?”

“They think I’m dead Nikita....even without a body.” She laughs. “The players in the society tried to kill me....or their flunky, Declan Quinn tried....they never would believe an old bird like me could have survived....so I decided to show them.”

Adrian finished her soup and poured more wine into Nikita’s glass. “I’m sorry if I’m rambling but I am so happy to have bumped into you Nikita. You are...sorry...were, an excellent agent...much under-rated. You could have risen rapidly to the higher ranks in the agencies....if they weren’t so bloody corrupted with the vermin that has taken them over.”

“But....well, what has happened...certain people in the agencies have...well, have they become so corrupt...so greedy for power or money that....”

“It is much more than that my dear....a much greater corrupt power....and....” she sighed. “....I am just one old woman who has no way of exposing them....and now, I’ve decided to live out the rest of my days....enjoying life. You know, it’s the little things that make waking up worth while....hearing the call of the gulls, the sound of the pounding surf....playing backgammon with the locals...and chess. I play chess with the fish monger...the blighter is amazing....a chess champion. I enjoy my walks through the square and the beach....drinking wine with the school teacher...she’s a delight....and an excellent bridge player. Yes, I enjoy my quiet life now....and not having to play the game anymore.”

“The game?” questioned Nikita.

“Yes, my dear, our world of spys...spooks...politics...it’s all a sick game. I decided to stay alive from a burning car crash to seek revenge on the buggers who plotted to kill me....but now....I don’t have the energy for the fight...” She smiled. “I guess you could say...I’ve retired.”

Nikita smiled and sipped her wine. “Is it possible to disappear in this country...I mean, so the...ah, power brokers can’t find one?”

“Well, I managed it...but I had help from my Swedish friend....he even managed to tap into my secret Swiss funds...my so called rainy day accounts. It requires money Nikita....if you and...monsieur Samuelle don’t have money....well....”

“Michael is very good at accessing laundered terrorist funds...that’s what we’ve been living on...don’t ask me how he does it but....well, he works on a computer and bingo...money appears in a bank account.”

“Yes, I recall that was his specialty. Well, if he can create enough funds to hide you both....but...it will not be easy Nikita.”

Nikita looked into Adrian’s eyes. “You haven’t asked why we went rogue...why we’re on the run.”

“You must have your reasons.”

“Well....ah, yes I guess...but...I’m being hunted now because I am with Michael...I deserted MI-6 and found him....and we’ve been running ever since.”

“Do you love him Nikita?”

Nikita sighed. “Yes....I do....but I am terrified at what I have gotten myself into....making a relationship work is difficult enough in normal life but....with what we are doing....constantly looking over our shoulders....waiting to be betrayed....I don’t know if I can continue living my life like that.”

“May I ask a personal question?”

“Please do.”

“Does he love you....has he told you so and what kind of life he hopes for the two of you.”

“He...ah....he loves me...it’s hard for him to say at times...and he hopes to find a place for us here in Portugal but....right now he’s working on a computer program that....ahhhh.....I’m sorry...this is difficult for me.”

“I’m prying into things not my business Nikita....no need to explain. I suppose the only advice I can offer is....if you love him and he loves you...fight with all your might for a life together...no matter what form it takes.” Adrian reached for Nikita’s hand and squeezed it.

Tears welled up in Nikita’s eyes.

They finished the bottle of wine and after attending to the bill, left the restaurant. Adrian stood smiling at Nikita. “Would you like to walk with me back to my cottage...I would so love for you to see it....I took a taxi here so I could walk back....to much for me walking both ways.”

“I’d love to see your cottage Adrian,” smiled Nikita

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Oh....I'm so gladlesharaSaturday, December 04, 02:08:23am
I really do have to ....(r)Lady EThursday, December 09, 12:32:41am

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