The Last Golden Eagle -

[rashid]

OOC - PLEASE AUDITION TO PARTICIPATE - most of the main characters have been cast and may be in need of henchmen and women.

We respectfully ask participants to refrain from the pornographic sexual antics found elsewhere in this forum - when the foreplay gets heated to the point of doing something about it - GET A ROOM Meanwhile, be as sensuous as you possibly can and still be somewhat dressed - OK?????

Thanks.

THE STORY:
The Last Golden Eagle. An Icon of the Third Reich liberated by yours truely and left for safekeeping in the hands of a Bedouin Chieftan named Al Shariff. The Eagle is twenty three kilos of pure three nines fine gold but that is only a small part of its true worth. The real value is a small scroll hidden deep inside which contains the secret to faster than light travel. The formula is written in an alien language found burried in an Egyptian tomb. The key to deciphering this ancient formula was discovered accidentally by Professor Eric von Hoffton just days before he was murdered deep in the Bavarian forest.

At the time of Von Hofftons death, I was a security agent for Royal Dutch Shell - one of the worlds largest conglomerates with holdings in virtually every country of the world and interests in almost every industry. I had been sent to retrieve the Last Golden Eagle of the 3rd Reich on the understanding that it was to be presented to Queen Beatrice as a gift from the company president and was present at the death of the good Professor. When Von Hoffton was shot from the shadows, he had just told me the true secret of the Eagle which no one else on earth knew. In that instant I made the decision that no government or corporation on earth was ready to manage the information. Without reporting the events to HQ I took the Eagle to Morocco and entrusted it to Al Shariff.

Shortly thereafter, I arranged to be assigned to duty in North Africa to keep close to my secret and for fifteen years have guarded it zealously. I never knew who murdered Professor Von Hoffton but always suspected a rogue German operative and imagined he was still looking for the Eagle. Of course time marches on and while I was languishing in Morocco, Von Hofftons daughter, a number of secret service types, the son of the rogue German agent and others had finally uncovered the secret of the Eagle. No doubt they would soon be on my trail. I had just recieved a message from HQ activating me after fifteen long years and suspected the worst. HQ had learned of my complicity and was intent on recovering the secret. Controlling faster than light travel would make RDS the greatest conglomerate in history. Imagine the riches of the universe funneled through the auspices of a single corporation. A prize indeed. The missive told the story of the Eagle without mentioning my part in it and indicated that the company was sending an assistant to help me locate the treasure. Apparently they still thought me useful.

The cast So far....... I'll update this right here as we progress

Robert Van - field op who gave the Eagle to Al Shariff for safe keeping.


Cathay Dupree - aka Catarina von Hoffton - daughter of Dr Eric von Hoffton. Has changed her identity and worked her way up the ranks of HQ to A) find her father's killer BUT to find his formula and B) protect it from da bad guys.
currently working with 009 to recruit a HQ staff of good guys.

Delia Evans - dead language specialist and archaeologist who has a passion for shopping and the search for ET. Roberts able assistant as designated by HQ - what a woman!!!!!

Shawn Williams (009)- secretly on loan from HRM, sent to find the Eagle but will destroy it if need be. This information is secret, he works underneath Cat and answers to her UNLESS it's in opposition to HRM's needs and requests.
A bit over the top but under HQ control. We don't know yet what Her Majesty wants with the Eagle (not so sure the old biddy isn't still humming "Rule Brittania")

Victor Worthington- Nefarious fellow who is following in his father's footsteps....only worse.
A worthy bad guy with an agenda to destroy all mankind except the Aryan superrace or failing that, to just take the superrace to a distant galaxy for further development towards galactic domination. (wow - what a job he's got) - currently creating his team of villians

C.G. Raven - experienced field op on loan from the Canadian Govt.
Currently in training to save 009's ass when he gets it in a sling

Still needed

Al Shariff and his merry band of Bedouins - Team leader position - apply to me please

Al Shariff is a very noble and honerable man. He has pledged to protect the Eagle because his friend (Robert Van) requested it and for no other reason. He may be a nomad chieftan but is wealthy beyond measure and has oil related holdings throughout the middle east.

In spite of his immense wealth he prefers the life of a desert chief. There is tremendous beauty in the desolate reaches of the Sahara dunes and Al Shariff is a great lover of beautiful things. He is educated, sophisticated,wise and ruthless.

Unknown to anyone the Eagle itself has been hidden in plain sight. Shariff was wise enough to put it inside a sculpture on display in one of the worlds lesser museums, knowing no one would ever care to look deeper than the obvious. Only he knows which sculpture and which museum. He has never told anyone else. In the event of his untimely death his son Abdul has been instructed pass a message to Robert. The message will be revealed in the thread when he dies.

Shariffs death is a pivotal point in the story and will lead the protagonists to other places. This is my secret of course and will be revealed at the right time.

 

[rashid]

That same afternoon I went to Ricks Cafe Americaine to get well and truely drunk. I suspected I wouldn't get much of a chance to relax for some time to come...........

 

[Cathay]

As I wait for my operatives to fall into

place, I sit drinking my coffee...reminicing. The time is at hand. I know that now. 15 years since the brutal murder of my father, and the death of my mother...I ponder how I got HERE from There.
It's been a long tiring journey, one that for a time I thought would never bear fruition. But all the heartache, all the hard work is finally coming together.

Robert's been contacted. I've seen to that. And his able assistant
is on her way. 009's in place and so is his unbeknownst companion, c.g. Craven.

Except for the brute who murdered my father, I was unsure how others knew of my fathers work, his discovery and subsequent
translation. But...having worked my way up thru HQ, I have been able to ferret out some information.

I find it interesting that some anonymous benefactor (or should I more honestly call......mole?) Has contacted HQ with hints, so many of them over the last decade and half. Robert's name has
not been mentioned as the person who actually had possesion of the Eagle, but all signs lend itself to that conclusion. Or so our
invisible squeal has hinted. And (sighing) I tend to agree.

But information has been coming to the surface regarding
Victor Worthington. He's been making his own inquiries over the years. It is conceivable that his father was somehow involved.
He disappeared the day my father died.

I have been following Robert for some months now. In hopes of finding a nomad named Al Shariff. He was the last person Robert
was seen with directly after the theft of the Eagle. I am hoping that Finding this nomad..will give me the answers I have been searching for.

With more and more of Victor's nefarious activities coming to the fore, I am sure that somehow he is heavily involved, and as much
as I need to find Al Shariff......I think I need to protect him....more.

Robert has never met me......his field supervisor. And he won't.
Not yet at least. At least not by the name he knows Cathay Dupree.

More coffee....I need to think. (Though I think I might need sleep even more) Sleep is a weapon. And me-thinks I'm going to need all the help I can get.

Personal report filed 01200, 10/4

 

[rashid]

I spent the afternoon in Ricks

trying to make sense of all the conflicting info comming at me. The only thing I knew for sure was that somehow the good folks at HQ had worked out my involvement with the Eagle. They hadn't said so but I knew they knew. They'd messaged me with details aquired God knows where, charged me with recovering the Eagle for the glory of "The Company", and dispatched an assistant to aid me in doing so.

Problem was, I'd given the thing to Al-Shariff 15 years ago with explicit instructions to put it in a safe place and tell no-one, not even me, where it was. He'd agreed and so far as I knew he was the only living soul who knew its whereabouts. I also knew that he'd keep his word to me even if it meant his death. In fact, I suddenly realized, the only way anyone would ever know was after Al Shariff was dead. And the successor to the knowledge would be.........me.

 

[Roland Gilliad]

ooc: Life problems. I Wont be able to post tonight due to a Browser problem. Will post tomorrow for all threads. Thankee.

 

[queen-mab]

Calm before the storm: An expedition in Knightsbridge (Kisses, Edina and Patsy!)

Delia Evans

In the middle of Harvey Nichols, Knightsbridge, a stunning woman was hopping on one foot.

“Right, give me the phone – and have you got the Dolce&Gabbana with zebra stripes? Thanks, darling!”

Shod now, Delia Evans admired the buckskin sandals with their six-inch heels. These will be so practical and carefree in the desert...it’s simply brilliant sometimes the way fashion coincides with events in my life. I do sometimes wonder if there is not some kind of cosmic bond between myself and Jean Paul Gaultier , for example. I think there must be.

Her pleasant reflections were brought to an untimely end by the rasping voice of her new colleague (she shuddered to think of calling a man with such an uncultivated accent “boss”) barking at her through his satellite phone.

“Yes, yes...I am on my way, Mr. Van. No, I can assure you that this mission has my undivided attention. Oh! No, no – not the boots, darling. The strappy things with the heels!”

Delia Evans seated herself on the arm of a nearby chair and crossed her legs. Somewhere behind a mountain of shoeboxes, an underpaid assistant fell from his ladder into an avalanche of Prada and Fendi. Delia did not have to actually see it to know it had happened. It happened every time she bought shoes.

“Not to worry, Mr. Van. I can assure you I am coming to Morocco to work.” Delia slid her perfectly manicured fingers through her long and prettily tousled black hair. She had more than once heard poor Dr. Farquhar remark that her hair reminded him of a fresco at Knossos. She did hope he was not referring to “Blue Monkeys amongst the Lilies” or whatever fabulous reconstruction of the Palace of Minos her illustrious ancestor had finally settled upon.

Had it not been October, she might well have thought twice about accepting the job of assistant to a derelict and altogether unpresentable man cast off from Royal Dutch Shell into the abyss of Morocco. But the cleansing sun of the Sahara promised to do untold wonders for her winter tan. And Dr. Farquhar was getting tiresome in the extreme. She needed peace and quiet in which to penetrate the mysteries of Linear D. And from all she had heard of Robert Van, she would get the solitude she craved and be able to dig in for a season of unrelenting work. Her preliminary investigations indicated that he never paid the slightest attention to women. He had discipline of galvanized steel. He had one motivation, and one only: to get the job done.

An admirable trait, she supposed. And she was fully prepared to believe everything she had been told about him.

Of course, she also believed in unicorns.

“I shall be with you on Friday, Mr. Van. Yes, I will meet you at Cafe Americain. Ta for now.”

She handed the phone back and sighed. No time for a leisurely stroll down Bond Street now. Delia collected the flotsam of boxes from the floor around her and piled them all pell-mell on top of the D&G in the stunned assistant’s hands.

“I might as well have them all,” she said briskly. “Just charge it to the account of Angus Farquhar.”

 

[Arius]

The Darkest of Wines

Staring out the window of my study at the rain soaked grounds of my estate, I stand in silent contemplation. Resting within my right hand is a glass of Chardonnay, prize stock pilfered from my father's personal stores. Raising my right hand I tap slowly on the glass with a single fingertip as my mind races through the twists and turns that the last few days have brought upon me. The news was of my father, Charles Worthington who had vanished 15 years ago within Bavaria, persumed dead, the search was called off by authorities after only a few days, however I had kept operatives within the country looking in case something should be unearthed, This occured in the form of a letter written to my father by a man with the name Raven.

"So, dear old dad was looking for something in Bavaria was he?" I turn to my informant lowering the soiled piece of paper from my eyes. the man was standing nervously in the doorway, the taste of his fear finer than the sweet ambrosia within my glass. "Yy….es Mr. Worthington sir. My sources tell me that he was meeting with a Professor. He said he overheard something about a proposition." I place the glass gently on the mantle, placing my hands behind me as I near the disgustingly shabby man.

"I believe I do have an idea as to the contents of that meeting. But this is not of your concern Bradley." Stopping my pacing I turned to him giving a slight bow of my head. "Thank you for your work, you may leave now." The man, who smelled vaguely of ale and onions turned to leave. "Oh, and Bradley?". Shaking the man turned around, his fear reeked nearly as bad as his breath. "Y..yes Mr. Worthington?" Cracking a smile I walked closer to him, placing an envelope in his pocket leaving a red stripe visible. "This should compensate for all your troubles." Tapping the pocket once I turned back to the window. "Thank you Mr. Worthington, geez you know the guys are all wrong about you."

Of the lowlifes within my father's organization, Bradley had been with my father the longest. His reasoning behind keeping him around was simply because he always picked up the tasks that no one wanted. However I had so very much tired of stupidity and disgraceful appearances within the organization.

"Quite…you may go Bradley." As the man left the study I walked to my desk with stiff dignity. Picking up the phone I called Robert, my head of security. "Good day Carlos, there is a man nearing the gates, he has stolen something of value to me and I wish you to take care of him. You will know him by the red stripe above his pocket. Oh, and Robert? The man is highly dangerous, so I give you permission to use all force necessary. Shoot him on sight. Oh, and Carlos? One last thing, have the body placed in the sewers below London, the smell will hardly be noticed there. Thank you Robert, that is all."

Turning back again toward the window I watched as Bradley left the mansion. As he descended from the steps, I closed my eyes, raising my head as I began to mentally paint the picture of the ordeal occurring below me. The grinning idiot walking out the door to the front walkway as Carlos' men moved about the grounds, perhaps the brain-dead brute sensed something being wrong perhaps not. One shot rings out, then another, followed by another as a figure collapses in the rain, as quickly as he falls his body is pulled from view and the blood is washed from the stones by the relentless downpour.


Opening my eyes with a relieved sigh I raise my glass once again from the mantle swishing its contents slightly to accent the taste I take one swallow. Placing the glass upon the desk I pick the phone up once again, dialing Miguel, the family butler, and my most trusted friend. "Hello Miguel? Yes…Yes, I am fine thank you. Would you be so kind as to prepare my jet for Bavaria, I do wish to leave as soon as humanly possible. Business or pleasure? Shall we say perhaps a little of both. Thank you Miguel, that is all. Placing the phone down I reach down to pick up a folder from the desk, containing articles and translated manuscripts from fifteen years of research. Next to this was my current work, translation of a tablet pilfered from a professor found in a most compromised position some years ago. The language was intriguing, as it seemed to be heavily based within erotic positions, perhaps the first of civilization's gentleman's magazine, perhaps more.. tracing my finger over another folder I opened it to look through my notes and observations of Professor Hoffton and his dear daughter Catarina. Within I had collected many pictures of both of them continuing my father's investigation into the Professor's controversial work and the elusive golden eagle. Many of the Professor's pictures had fallen victim to the fire at my hand, but not one of his lovely daughter. She was indeed a work of art, and one that I one day had ambition to possess.

"Hmmm, so, little starlet, you are perhaps the only key left to the fabled Golden Eagle, an interesting chase this shall be, most interesting. Tracing the picture with a graceful finger my eyes savoured her image. Beautiful as you are, should you deny me what it is I wish to know, things will not go well for you. Not well at all."

"Shame on you father, keeping your only son ignorant of your travels. Well father, it would appear that your son shall have to succeed where you failed. Worry not though, the name of Worthington shall be known by all once I have completed what your pathetic rabble could not do. Your organization will become stronger as I relieve those weak links within it of their services.

"Oh father, you would be so very proud of your darling boy…so very, very proud." Curling a twisted grin over my face I began to work through the documents, eying each detail with interest as the wine fuelled the fire of ambition within me.

 

[Cathay]

After witnessing the initial meeting

between Robert and his hand picked (my hand) assistant, Delia, I head for Ali-Ben's. Ben has been an excellelant contact, source of
assistance and well.....friend for almost 10 years now. He is a desert rat, a small wiry family man, with contacts from the far side
of the Sahara to the Swiss Alps. I met him a decade before on a small mission to Iraq, happened on the scene just as he was about to lose his head.....(literally) and with some quick thinking
and some awesome (I humbly add) physical moves...was able to free him. I made a lifelong friend that day. One of the few people
in the world that I call friend, I will be forever grateful to him for his insight, companionship and his tutelage. He has helped me understand the desert and it's people. The closest thing I have to family in the world now. He is also the only person on the planet who knows who I am. I've come to realize that we all need someone who knows and respects our secrets and who would never betray them. Ben is that man to me. He has had
7 children in the last 10 years, whom I have come to love dearly.

I stand in the shadows and wait until dark before approaching his door and knock quietly. He opens the door himself and he smiles wide..."Ah my little kitten. It is good to see you." and he opens his arms wide and hugs me to him. It is truly like finding a welcoming port in the storm and for just a moment, I let my guard down and hugged him to me. Sighing, I pull away and already
I feel tension ebbing.

His lovely quiet wife Andana after welcoming me made us a pot of tea and as usual, left us alone to talk. We caught up on his family and business interests and finally, he takes my hand and
and holding it tight, he asks "Is is time then, my sister?"
Nodding, I quietly tell him of all the things I've learned and what I need to do now. When I am done, he grins like a young anxious
school boy and says" Ahhh, I have been bored lately. You've come and rescued me from a mundane existance once again."
I had to laugh. His "interests" over the years not to mention the
region has never been boring and he knows I know that.

We map out our strategy. Ben is going to be our "guide" and we will travel the desert together. Under the guise of a caravan tour of the desert, Robert, Delia, Shawn and C.G and a few others will travel under Ben's ever watchful eye. I will leave a message for Robert and the others that they are to contact Ben. Except for Shawn and Ben, the others will just think I am an American looking for a grand adventure. This will allow me to travel with them innocuously. Ben has many people (countless cousins,
I don't doubt) who work for him and this caravan should be formed easily and practically. I leave Ben feeling much lighter of spirt (let alone of-pocket). He tried to decline but gave in graciously, He his aware of my wealth. And my need for control.

When I leave I go to my hotel room and fall into bed.

I wish I could say, I dreamt the dreams of the innocent. But..alas
I did not. I haven't had those comforting nocturnal travels since the day my father was murdered. I wonder if I ever will again.

 

[Roland Gilliad]

Shawn Williams

(2 years ago...7 thousand some odd miles away.....in London,England....Location Classified...)

Welcome to the HRM Mainframe, please enter Username and Password.........


Username:M
Password:**************

.......... .......... ........... Password Approved, Welcome M.

File?> 009
......
........
...................

File Accessed.

Real Name:Shawn Williams
Identification Number:009
Current Mission Status:Inactive
Callsign: Secret.Agent.Man

......Sending Communique.........

........................................................................

Communique Sent, Awaiting Response.......Response Denied, Too risky.........Going Offline, Good bye


(Inside of the Marriot Hotel, Egypt)

Communique Transmitted from HQ 009, Prepare to recieve...
.......
........
...................

Transmission recieved and Decoded..Read? Y/N? Y


From:Spy Queen
To:Secret Agent Man
RE:Your Next Assignment

Good work 009. You have successfully exposed The terrorist Organization known as the Fourth Reich, however, we have a new assignment for you. From the files you managed to Capture from their headquarters before it so promptly exploded, we have Deciphered Information leading to what we now believe is the Legendary Secret of the Reich, Apparently a Scientist known as Eric Van Hoffen was researching The possiblitys of Interstellar Travel. As much of science fiction as this might seem, he, somehow discovered the means to go Faster than light...Before he was murdered somewhere In Bavaria. Your mission 009, is to Intercept the artifact that contains the Formulae, Known as the Last Golden Eagle. It is Imperative you Find this before members of the Neo-Nazi's, or Whoever is chasing this eagle, can. You are to Deliver the Formulae to Headquarters As soon as you can, if you are somehow unable to bring the formulae home, Your orders are to destroy it without hesitation. You will be going at this one alone 009. Q will provide you the nessicary equpitment once you have flown in and been breifed on The so Called HQ, a group of individuals attempting to find the Eagle, before anyone else does. Remember, do whatever it takes to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands, civillians, Allies, and otherwise are Expendable. You have been re-granted the liscence to kill. It is imperitive you do not fail this mission, if your cover is Compromised, we will not be able to help you. We have contacted the Canadian Govt. to assist in case of Emergency Situations, the Name of the man is C.G.Raven, You will know him by the phrase "If god is dead, then who will save the queen?" You are to take orders only from the head of HQ, and no one else, We will contact you if we recieve any further information, Good Luck 009. God speed.

End Transmission, Reply? Y/N?? N

Reply denied, Closing comlink, Scrambling records......done.

Power down.

*With a sweep of a darkly gloved hand, he closed the laptop and placed it in his bag...packing up what few belongings he had, he took a taxicab to the Airport....where he joined the flight to london to recieve his equpitment and final orders.....*


(Present Day, Outside the Admiral's Men's Building* Old London, England)

*The Nondescript man in a Brownish Business hat, a Long brown coat and beige Suit sat outside the small Bar and Grille that had resided here scince the Old days of the Theater...He glanced around, nursing the Crystal tumbler of fine scotch slowly.....a crowd of Businessmen came by...and in a flash there was a Soft white Envelope that said "Beegees" on it...he opened the letter quickly, reading the message within "Café American, Meeting" He smiled quietly, burning the paper with his brass Lighter, he pulled his hat down over his eyes and walked with the fusting group down the road, sliding onto the white leather seat of The BMW Z23, And turning on the ignition..driving down the lonely highway on this very early morning he headed for the Gatwick Airport...where a ticket would be waiting to take him to the place where he would see his Superior again, after three months of gathering intelligence, he would finally have somthing to report....*

 

[rashid]

Things were starting to get a little warm in Morroco

With HQ bringing up the Eagle after all this time I knew it wouldn't be long before the entire international espionage community would come crashing through my door. I had to get word to Al Shariff. Our secret was in danger and it was time to move. I'd no sooner been introduced to my new assistant than we were out the rear gate of the Cafe' Americaine and off to find safe haven somewhere far from where we were expected to be. I would explain later - for now the first order of business was to get her gear and hightail it as far from Ricks as possible in the next 24 hours - HQ would find me - I had no reason to wait.

In a whirlwind of activity, I dragged the lovely Delia Evans from one end of town to the other - heels clicking, voice protesting, hair going everywhich way she was a vision of lusty loveliness but I couldn't take time to play. The gear was packed, the old land rover fueled, bedrolls stashed and water safely stored. In less time than it takes to say it we were deep in the desert with night approaching, safer than we could ever have been in town. I was in my element. Nothing and no-one could faze me here.

 

[Roland Gilliad]

Well..almost nothing...

ooc: Rashid: Erm..Yo, Whats up here? err..Im a hint confused. *L*

 

[Cathay]

I was awakened near dawn.....

In a daze of too little sleep, I awaken to loud raps on my rattan
hotel door. Stumbling out of the bed..I open to find Ben.
He smiles as though her was just stopping in for tea and I wave him into the room. "Good God Ben...what time is it? and what the
Hell has happened that your here at?" squinting at the alarm clock, "3:00 am?"

Sitting cross legged on my bed, he answers me, "Ahh my dear
Catya...your bird has fled."

"What?????"
"yes," he nods. "your field op Robert Van has left the city with a high heeled lovely...within minutes of their meeting at the Cafe."
Hanging my head, I mutter..."I'm gonna kill him." and standing
and stretching, "he's got brass balls.....gotta give him that....I'm
still gonna kill him."

I reach for a cheroot and blowing smoke towards the ceiling fan,
"Which way did he head out Ben?" Ben reaches for my cheroot, takes a drag and says "West, dear Kitten. Deep into the desert love. Think he knows an oasis out there somewhere?"

Laughing, I had to agree. Then I got serious again. "Ben, how
soon can we leave?" Nodding he says, "We can leave this afternoon. First we'll cross in trucks and then hmm ... we'll see."
God, I could just imagine. "Okay then my friend, get lost. I got some calls to make."
After Ben left, I called room service for COFFEE! Reaching for my newfangled cell phone, (couldn't use the hotel phones for these calls.) I dialed Shawn's number. Hearing only his voice mail
(lucky bastard was probably still asleep) I gave him my instructions, and let him know "The Trail's getting cold" and where to meet us. Left the same message for C.G. But...I knew he was in the field and might have to play catch up.
Hmmm, gotta check for messages. Maybe Mr. I'll give 'em the
slip...left a message for HQ. Even so...I fumed...I'm still gonna kill him! Damn, I'm gonna need some Preperation H for the frigging luggage I'm carrying under my eyes.

 

[queen-mab]

The Trials of Love

The pursuit of fashion, Delia thought to herself as the Land Rover hurtled into the desert, was apt to be a very hazardous business.

She had followed the belt out of the Club and into the Land Rover without any serious qualms (although admittedly the bedrolls and water bottles had looked a bit ominous. She did hope Mr. Van intended this excess baggage as largesse for any passing Bedouins they might meet. The code of the desert and all that rot). She always looked her best in a Land Rover. Over the years she had cultivated a certain half-careless, half-regal posture, which allowed her to look like an arrogant cheetah however rumpled her sandwashed silk.

What worried her now though was the sudden disappearance of civilization, camels, eunuch bodyguards et al. To the best of her knowledge, her only companion at this moment was Robert Van himself.

"I say, Mr. Van -- I cannot think that the very best hotels are out in this direction!"

She thought she saw the slightest movement in the muscle of one of his lips. It might just possibly have been a smile. More likely it was just the effect of too much sand between her eyelids.

"I say -- did you hear me? I rather wanted a bath before I got to work explaining to you about Linear D." She leaned forward and audaciously crossed her long, naked, honey-gold legs. Deliberately, she nudged at his thigh with one of her knees.

If things got really tough, she was prepared to take off her sunglasses. Well, in all truth, she wanted to take off her sunglasses anyway, if only for an instant. All the better to feast her eyes on the gleaming and sensuous length of the belt she coveted (sadly still firmly anchored to the washboard abdominals of the insufferable Mr. Van).

"My dear Miss Evans," he said to her suddenly, just as she was beginning to salivate a little at the way his turquoises caught the light. "Is there some scientific reason why your eyes have not left my trousers since we met? I begin to think you are as impatient to reach camp as I am."

 

[rashid]

"In case the fact has escaped you

there ARE no hotels in this corner of the Sahara. I'm taking you with me to keep you from getting yourself killed or kidnapped wandering around this God forsaken hellhole in a miniskirt and zebra stripped 6" heels. Whatever possessed HQ to send me a beauty queen for an assistant?"

I continued groweling and muttering under my breath while I made camp and the bimbo sat in the Land Rover polishing her nails. I had any number of these camps scattered throughout the territory. Each one was a simple but comfortable cavern hidden under the sand and camaflaged so as to be virtually undetectable. Preparations complete, I returned to the Rover. "I'm going to hide the truck under this tarpaulin" I told her "You're welcome to join me in the shelter or sit here all night if you like but the shelter is warmer and there's food, drink and conversation there." "I'd appreciate it if you would be good enough to tell me whatever HQ told you to convince you to drag half of Harrods to Morocco."

I was wrong about the shelter being warmer - As I watched her walking to the cavern I was sure icicles were forming on her lucious ass. I couldn't wait to hear her story............

 

[Cathay]

After packing my briefcase (which I

might add has Never carried a single brief),Instead it carried
the simplest of my "tools of the trade". ie, 9mm Beretta, 6 add'l clips, my trusty stiletto honed to perfection, binoculars, assorted drugs and syringes, satellite radio link, camera and...of course
the journal(s) of my father. I called the concierge and had him deliver my trunks, carrying all the clothes and ID I had developed for my American heiress cover.

I watched the sun rise over the desert and possibly for the first time since my childhood, I relished the beauty around me. How much time had I lost, I wondered? How much of these sunrises did I let go by? (hmm let me get my calculator I mused.)
At one time, I'd wanted children. Well......the ole biological clock is certainly ticking it's ass off. BUT............Now is not the time for
this type of thinking...like Scarlett....Tomorrow is another day.

I am too close to my objective now. It has taken me years to track down how the Eagle came to the desert and WHO I believe held it and I will not falter now. Not even knowing what
I suspect about Victor Worthington's possible current involvement.

Sitting on the balcony, I glanced at the files I had accumulated about the elusive Mr Worthington. And the photos. As my fingers lingered over the planes of his (I hate to admit it) rather
handsome arresting face, I wondered where he was now.
My secretary at RDS (oh....excuse me..my administrative assistant) had recently informed me that Mr Worthington has left
his fortress and his whereabouts.....was unknown. Hmmmpf,
I snorted, yeah.....unknown. What do ya bet that handsome devil is winging his way towards this desolate beautiful desert.

Well.......Mr. Worthington, bring it on! I am no novice....at anything.

 

[queen-mab]

Far From the Madding Crowd

In the shadows of the cavern, Delia shivered, but lifted her chin all the higher. One thing she simply could not abide was a lack of civility in a man. It brought out her core of steel. A few strides of her long legs took her to the back of the rocky depression, and she sat, graceful as an Arab woman; inscrutable; quickly obscured in smoke.

Robert Van continued his mumbling and banging. One could always tell when a man’s baser animal instincts were at war with his rational brain. Delia would have smiled a little, had she not found it all so insufferably tiresome. She had thought to be away from all this when she escaped the sherry and document prints of Angus Farquhar’s house in Surrey. She supposed she never would be away from it truly, not until she became old and grey and even then some fool undergraduate would no doubt fall head over heels for the very ghost of her famed allure.

Sometimes, when she thought of all she knew and all HQ did not, she feared she would laugh out loud.

But now there was sand in her hair, and her fingers unconsciously wound the patterned silk of her scarf round and round her tousled curls, confining them in a loosely knotted turban that allowed just the right number of wisps to so fetchingly float free. She blew rings of smoke, trying to encircle Aldebaran through the gap in the rocks that served as a door. And she spoke, languidly, in a voice made of mourning doves and nightwind and water running over stones.

She never looked at Van to see if he was listening. Men listened. And the desert too had ears.

"It is only a fool, Mr. Van, who thinks that a blade loses its sharpness when its scabbard is made of silk."

She saw that he did not understand her. She was not surprised.

"HQ did not have to tell me anything in order to 'convince me' as you so charmingly put it. It was I who convinced HQ. I have my own reasons for wanting to be in this part of the desert right now. And my own uses for you, as well."

She quirked an eyebrow and smiled, genuinely amused at the man’s discomfiture. Maybe she could find more to like about him than his belt in time.

But if she wanted him to live that long, she would have to keep him resolutely in the dark.

 

[Roland Gilliad]

ooc: ahh. Im losing my touch. *l*

IC:

Dateline, Morocco, The Une-Lover Hotel....

*He slammed down his phone, leaning over the small laptop...fuming quietly...the sonofabitch had skipped town, and 009 did NOT Appriciate that...picking up the phone, he swiftly dialed the local British Air force Base...it rang several times before a very sleepy sounding young man awansered...*

Yesh sah?

*Shawn sighed and rubbed his temple*

The Guardian of Canterbury.

*He heard a quiet gasp*

Just a moment Sirrah!

*A click...another click...another click....then an ruffled sounding feild commander*

009? What in Gods name are you DOING Calling us at this hour?

Be quiet Red. The Bird has flown the coop, I need a Night stalker Helecopter, I need the Satalite Camera's focused on the desert so we can FIND him and I need it Five minutes ago, I am at meeting point seven, NOW MOVE LIKE YOU'VE GOT A POURPOSE!

*he heard hurried writing*

YES SAHR!

*And a click, He then began to hurridly pack, assembling what equpitment he'd need....the Q Watch....His Guns, The Laptop gun, Sliding on the wrist crossbow,water canteens, and assorted other items....Including several Flashbangs and Frag Grenades...and, of course, the all important gold lighter....which burned a hot enough flame to melt wax on contact....and another very special little add on which only M and Q knew about...pocketing it he ascended the stairs...pulling out his cellphone..and dialing Catya's cellphone number, leaving a message*

Catya, I will pick you up at the McDonalds LZ (Landing Zone), on Fifth in Thirty minutes, Be there and be Ready, we're going after our little friend.

*Slapping it closed he walked out onto the roof, leaping into the military helecopter, where he was handed several sattelite Photos of the desert, where he saw a small dune buggy speeding along the desert sands, pictures from ten minutes ago......his eyes narrowed*

I think not my friend.....Im too close now...

*he spoke as they lifted off and made for across the city for the LZ, where he hoped the rest of the crew would be....*

 

[rashid]

I watched her in the dim light,

letting her talk without interruption and when she finished I let the silence join with the smoke hanging in the air. We were safe here - at least for the moment, and I was able to relax my vigilance enough to really look at her. I was pretty sure the bimbo act was a screen; beautiful heads are seldom completely empty and, now that I had a chance to focus my attention, I concluded that Ms. Evans was smarter than the average bear.

Unfortunately she was still a woman and I hadn't exactly been gentlemanly getting her to a safe harbor. She was pissed. She was also my new assistant and had information I needed. The small fire was now burning free of smoke and the air cleared, leaving only a bit of light and enough heat to keep out the night cold from the Sahara. I closed the flap at the entrance to the cavern and turned again to face her.

"whatever your uses for me might be, we're in MY desert and you'll have to follow my lead to stay alive for more than 24 hours. HQ sent you here to keep an eye on me, to steal the Eagles secret from me, or perhaps even to terminate my tenure, but I can assure you that none of the above is going to happen. There's precious little to watch, I no longer have the secret and terminating me will avail HQ nothing. What I do have is the sure and certain knowledge that whoever controls the secret of the Eagle will control the financial and political future of planet Earth. That much is certain. The problem, as I see it, is that there is no one government or entity capable of managing such power with any level of magnanimity. When I arranged for the thing to disappear fifteen years ago I had hopes that things might change for the better. So far that hasn't happened and now there is no more time to wait. As I see it I have two choices. Destroy it, which I am loathe to do, or share the information through the United Nations and make it a gift to all instead of a weapon or a tool for the few. To do that I need to be able to break the code used to encript the formula. If I can't find someone to do that, I'm determined to destroy it. You can help me or hinder me - it's your choice. Now I suggest you get some sleep. We have a long day ahead to reach Shariff before the rest reach us."

I turned my back on her then and left it up to the IS and her own good judgement to make her next move. I'd never have the heart to harm her but if she made the wrong decision I'd find a way to get her safely out of my hair. HQ would never send her here unless she had a talent they needed and I had to know what it was. I fell asleep dreaming of long tanned legs and a voice like water flowing softly over stones.............

 

[Cathay]

Hearing the message 009 had left me

I started to fume. Save me from boy scouts with toys. This is not your average military search op - Shawn needs to know that.
One can catch more flies with honey than vinegar, subltely and subterfuge will get us what I (we) want. But....I do need to talk to him, so off I went to the LZ.
He was standing near the NightStalker when I arrived, looking at
night vision photos.
"Shawn....what the hell?" (I was still fuming...after all I was his
superior after all!) He passed me the photos. "Cat, 40 minutes ago this was their location. I'm getting updated photos now as we speak." He started to turn around, when I touched his arm.
"Shawn, this is a COVERT operation and yes, I already know where he's heading...or at least which direction he's going in."

Taking a deep breath. "Let's do a fly-over but I can promise you..
he's gone to ground by now. He's been out here for 15 years,
and knows every rock, oasis and cavern out here...and let's not
forget, he's on our side." at least I hope so...I muttered to myself.

Sure enough, as we flew over the area west and north of his location, there was no sign. "Let's go infra-red" 009 ordered the pilot. We circled out in all directions in a 40 mile radius and sure...
enough....zip, zilch, zero. "damn!" Shawn muttered. "Where could they be?"
"Shawn, this desert is riddled with caves and underground caverns. Even infra-red cannot pick up heat thru mountainous
rock." I said sighing. "Besides, Robert knows all of our little tricks, this is why we're gonna follow on ground. Though......"
I mused, "These satellite photos will keep us following him
correctly."

I could see he was not happy...but that's okay. He's a good agent, smart, wily and very very resourceful. Back at the LZ, we went to sit in a waiting car.
"Shawn, we have a bigger wrinkle to iron out. Victor Worthington
has left his fortress and I believe he is on his way out here."
I filled him in on the info my able assistant had acquired. He had
to agree, this could be real trouble. Maybe I should say....
WOULD be Real trouble.
"Pack up for our little safari, Shawn. Dress in your best "Out of
Africa" attire and be ready to move out by 1300 hours." and as I got out of the limo, "Oh....pick up a battery pack and fax machine......I want these recon photos every 2 hours, once we
leave." Hmmm very helpful indeed.

I went to check out of our hotel and meet up with Ben. But, first
I needed to call HQ and pick up messages and..... to leave a few
of my own. As I got to the hotel...I realized something vital.
"How does Robert know where to go......It's been fifteen years, and Al Shariff is a wandering nomad. Or is he???????"

 

[Cathay]

don't mind me......

Am just re-subscribing (Had a teeny tiny boo-boo)ooops

 

[Roland Gilliad]

ooc: Sorry for my impetuousness. Im a bit eager. Im going to try and re-think things here...

 

[queen-mab]

In the middle of the night, Robert Van was awakened by the sound of movement and voices near the cave mouth. He had his hand on his gun in an instant, but almost in the same heartbeat Delia’s hand came down over his.

“Shhhh. There is nothing to worry about. Just a surveillance plane flying overhead. You were wise to cover the Rover and to take us down underground where infra-red cannot penetrate. Friends of yours?”

She quirked an eyebrow at him and flashed her usual smile of cynical amusement.

“Doubt it,” Van said, and heaved himself up from his bedroll to investigate. Delia followed just at his heels. He had the uncomfortable sensation that she was wary of something she was not telling him about.

And sure enough, three dark shapes were melting into the desert by the time he stepped out of the cave.

“Friends of yours?” he asked.

“No, not precisely. But I can promise you that there is nothing for you to fear from them. In fact, they are keeping watch. Guarding you through the night.”

She was naked underneath the blanket. It took him only an instant to establish that. She had wrapped the smooth wool around herself like a mantle, and only the wide collar of gold and rubies at her throat broke the satin expanse of her tawny skin. Of course he could not afford to linger on details like that. He needed his blood flow to be concentrated in his brain.

Robert Van had very much enjoyed subjecting Delia earlier to his rough and tough secret agent diatribe. He had taken it for granted that he had put her into her place once and for all. The expression on his face now was almost comical. Nothing, nothing at all, made sense suddenly.

“My dear Mr. Van,” Delia said lightly, and drew her finger teasingly down his cheek as though he were a petulant child. “I must disabuse you of the notion that your presence is necessary to keep me alive in this desert. Surely you must know that over the years, I have spent almost more time here than I have in England. The study of Linear D is not a parlour game, restricted to the stuffy halls of ancient colleges and museums. Most of the work of my professional life has been conducted in the field. Here, in the Sahara.”

She stepped outside the cave and walked a few steps into the desert. Her hair was loose now and blew about her face. She looked wild and elemental, he thought. In bare feet, she was a few inches shorter than he. But she walked with a sense of majesty that made his head reel. He could not reconcile this desert vision with the silly woman hung with Bond Street shopping bags that he had known only a few hours earlier. Why on earth had she ever adopted such a ludicrous disguise?

“Who were those men?” he demanded, and almost before he knew it, he had come up behind her and taken her by the arm, turning her to face him.

She only laughed. Deliciously. He felt that he might have been safer in the presence of a tiger.

“My brothers,” she said simply. “The sons of Al-Shariff. Whom I believe you wanted to find?”

 

[Arius]

"So, the chase begins." (edited)

I said to myself as my private jet flew above the Alboran Sea en routh to Morocco. Upon my arrival within Bavaria I found much as to my father's covert activities regarding the eagle.

As Bradley had said his informants had collected everything they could find, which arrived at my summer residence the next day. There were several letters signed by a "Raven" regarding a meeting to discuss the whereabours of the artifact. The handwriting was course and writtne by a large man of Arab descent. He wrote to mask this within his penstrokes, however to the eye of a trained graphologist it was clear this was true.

Within my fathers other possessions I also found more pictures of Catarina Von Hoffton, her sedcutive figure stirring emotion within me as always as her alluring eyes pierced deep within my lustful soul. Next to these I found plane tickets to Rabat, Morocco set for two days after my father's disappearance, which further confirmed my suspicions. However of the most intriguing finds, perhaps the most interesting were the last entries within my father's diary.

06/15
"It would appear that the little canary has fled the nest and has also changed the color of her feathers. Perhaps the only way to unearth the secret of the eagle will be to catch the canary and have her lead me to it. Alas, the wiles of my youth have long since abandoned me, still I have managed to find other methods of persuasion that have served me quite well in the past.

I feel a minor tinge of guilt about keeping the knowledge contained herein from Victor, however his ambition has begun to shadow if not eclipse my own, if I do nothing to stop it, I fear he will turn his own ambition against me. I have trained my son well...far too well

06/16
"My work is nearing its end. Soon, you will be in my arms once again my beloved Elizabeth. Through good fortune (and an excessive amount of money) I have discovered the whereabouts of the Golden Eagle, within three days it will be mine!

I leave this evening to meet with R to find out what his informants have found within Rabat. Perhaps I did not need the canary after all, however, I cannot afford for her to remain alive as she knows far too much as to the truth of that trinket. Farewell Diary, when next we meet it shall be within my triumph!"

Tracing over the pages within the back, I discovered a map of the Sahara, hand drawn by my father with various places circled and marked. I suspected that future reading of the diary would reveal the relevence of these markings.

But, my mind constantly drifted to thoughts of Catarina. Why was it that when a man's eyes hungered for a woman, little else mattered? Even such grand ambitions as the eagle faded to triviality against my lust for her.

I had watched Cat, for many years, for my father, making note of her location at all times, snapping pictures of her every move within public and within private. As she matured to a woman, my intrigue turned to primal lust. Yet, I was indeed fortunate for she and the eagle were closely tied into one intrigue. Soon, I would be about to achieve both of my life's ambitions, the possession of the secret of the eagle as well as Catarina Von Hoffton.

"Perhaps your wiles have left you father, not mine have most certainly not." I whispered to myself as I beheld the majestic Atla Mountains in the distant east.

"Come to me, my little canary, come and sing for Victor."

 

[Cathay]

Since I had been so utterly sleep

deprived, I had a few hours to kill before meeting Ben, Shawn and
the others, I knew I was going to have to update my "current"
look. Going in to restroom, I dyed my hair once again. (It had been so long since I'd seen my own white blonde hair, I would
have to look at an old photo to remember me blonde...sigh....)
This time I added a strong red tint, making my long hair a deep
auburn. I wrapped my hair and while the color "set", I went to
the balcony, lathered on a strong skin tanning solution, and lay naked under the mid-morning sun. I needed more sun and even though it was not yet noon, the temperature was already in the 90's. It was a glorious heat and my skin tingled deliciously, as I lay. I was so drowsy, I almost forgot to turn over.

After rinsing the color out, I braided my hair in a long thick french braid. Going to my case, I found the pale-green contacts, I would
use this time. For a few minutes though, I studied the mirror.
My natural eye color is a deep emerald green. The color of my
mothers eyes. Studying the mirror, my fingers reached out and
touched my image. For just a moment, I could see my mothers
face staring back in front of me. I looked more like my mother,
though my father contributed.....dimples. And for just a moment,
my eyes filled with tears. Would she be proud of me, I wonder?

Do I honor her memory? Hmmm. Blinking back the threatening
tears, I shook my head and reached for the contacts. No More
Cat! Enough. What the hell is wrong with me??? I wonder...
is it because for the first time I can possibly see an end.

I have been obsessed for so long, strived and worked so hard to be here....Maybe...the woman in me worries about what my life,
my desires, my goals will be........after. Maybe that is why, I study Victor's pictures so much. Why the hell else would that
face, that body so interest me? I tell myself....I need to know
my enemies.......

But I know I am lying. And part of me has to smile at that.
What do they say, "Keep your friends close ...but your enemies
closer?"

 

[rashid]

In my mind I could hear Shariffs voice saying

"check..........and.............. mate". I was good - he was usually better. Now his children were enjoying the game as well. A whole family of spoiled geniuses. I stood there in the desert, MY desert, I had just told her, wearing the Emperors New Clothes and precious little else.

The boys were no doubt killing themselves with laughter behind a nearby sand dune as "uncle" Robert made a total ass of himself and somewhere in the dark Shariff was in mortal danger of dying from terminal humor. As for Delia I now had only two choices. Kill her or marry her. Since I could never do the first that left me with only one unless I was willing to consider dying of embarassment myself.

Then again, they'd gone to a lot of trouble on my (or perhaps the world's) behalf. A wise man would be humbled and flattered. I decided to be as wise as this man could be and, taking a deep breath, retreated to my shelter to sulk. For now, it seemed, The Eagle was safe.

The girl in the blanket followed me without a word and sat silently in the shelter waiting. She'd been ten when I was twenty four and a terrible ten at that. Most of her time had been spent tormenting her brothers with the fact that she was faster, stronger and brighter than all of them except Omar and together they'd been a formidable team.

Apparantly she was as wise as she was beautiful. She let me ruminate, sitting in silent majesty, patiently waiting for me to work it out in my head. HQ had been right about one thing - she was indeed royalty. I managed a simple "thank you for telling me" and, not knowing what else to do I rolled over and went to sleep.