by Belle Ami
Daniel sniggered. “You’ll see. The town is hopping with action. Just remember, Romeo, this is a business trip, and you’re here to learn the wine business. The wine coming out of the Beqaa Valley is improving with every season.” He enthusiastically slapped Ben on the back. “But all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”
Over the intercom system, they heard their flight called. Daniel stood and grabbed his attaché case. “Come on, let’s get to the gate, and I’ll tell you a Beirut love story.”
Not mentioned in their conversation was upon their arrival in Beirut they’d begin surveillance on Zara and start searching for Aryeh. Staying true to their identities, they’d be meeting with restaurant sommeliers and wine merchants.
Ash assumed the identity of Jonathon Cooper, an MIT student who’d grown up in Massachusetts. He flew by way of New York with a U.S. passport and was embarking on a winter break vacation backpacking through the Middle East. He arrived in Beirut on a red-eye and was fast asleep in a hostel not far from the duplex Nira and Yitzak were busily transforming into the team’s operational headquarters.
In a few hours when Ash woke, he’d meet his favorite Lebanese arms dealer at a club. Ash, or Cash,as the team jokingly referred to him, controlled bank accounts in the Cayman Islands. Per Cyrus’s instructions, the backpacking student was stockpiling arms in a warehouse in the Beqaa Valley. Cyrus had instructed Ash to keep this a secret from the team. When Ash had questioned him why, Cyrus told him it was better for the integrity of the operation to keep each member’s activity on a need to know basis until they were all assembled at the safe house.
Elon and Cyrus would be the last ones to arrive in Beirut and would be carrying Spanish passports created especially for them. Carlos Alphonse, an entrepreneur, had sold his company to a tech giant and was living the good life in Marbella, Spain. Cyrus, in his newly minted persona of Ricardo Segovia, was Carlos’s assistant and bodyguard. They were the only two who would sleep in the safe house. The rest would stay at nearby hotels suitable for their passport holder’s incomes and lifestyles. In three days the safe house would be ready, and Elon and Cyrus would fly first class on Emirates Airlines from Barcelona to Beirut to take up residency in their luxury duplex overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.
Cyrus opened the door to the Ramsad’s office and entered. The blinds, as usual, were drawn closed, and Cyrus entered a darkened room. Noam sat motionless, staring out into the gloom. Cyrus knew Noam Levi rarely left headquarters once an operation began. He would eat, sleep, and breathe the minutes, hours, days, and weeks, of every detail and move until the mission successfully concluded, or God forbid, failed.
“You leave tonight?” Noam got straight to the point.”
“Yes, Elon and I leave at midnight on a private jet.”
The Ramsad nodded. “I’ve communicated with Aryeh. He believes Nasrallah will take the bait.”
“When will we know?”
“Soon. The DGSE agent has delivered the ransom offer, and now we wait for her to hear from Nasrallah.”
“And the mole. Any idea who it might be?”
“The mole should be delivering the information we planted that a team of Mossad agents is descending on Beirut to extract the traitor Aryeh and bring the diamonds home. The planted information provides Aryeh the authenticity he needs to gain Nasrallah’s trust. As for the mole, we’re closing in, but for now, since there’s less than a handful of people who know the truth, feeding him misinformation is useful.”
“Then we’re in business.”
“Yes, we’re in business. Tell me, how has the team taken to you?” The Ramsad folded his hands and leaned forward. Cyrus could understand where he got his moniker; his vulpine expression resembled a fox about to pounce on prey.
“Not badly. Nira is skeptical. She’s a hard egg to crack. Her loyalty is to Aryeh, but she’s a pro and is responding to my command. Yitzak is a diplomat, he put his cards on the table from the start and took charge of making the transition as smooth as possible. Daniel’s quiet, hard to read. I haven’t figured him out, but he seems to be with the program. Ben could charm the devil. He opened up immediately to me, but I suspect beneath his friendly façade, he’s a hide, wait, and see kind of guy. I’ll have to earn his respect. Ash and I have bonded. He’s without a doubt the coolest killer I’ve ever met. I’ve taken him into my confidence. He’s amassing an arsenal. We should be ready for action immediately.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Only that it was possible the mission might expand, and I’d been ordered to prepare for every eventuality.”
“Did he question anything?
“No, he’s just thrilled to be back at work and hunting bad guys.”
“What about Elon? He tends to figure things out before they happen. A restless mind.”
“Elon’s a genius, totally on board. I don’t sense any animosity from him. So, all in all, I think the team is running as smoothly as can be expected given the circumstances.”
The Ramsad nodded. “In Beirut, all the soldiers will fall in line. Once you confide the real mission to them, they’ll purr like a Ferrari engine. By the way, use caution when surveilling Zara. She has a sixth sense about being tailed. She’ll spot you and blow your cover in a minute. So keep a distance. The trust between her and Aryeh goes back for years, a rarity in this business. If I could, I’d recruit her.”
“Maybe when this is over, she’ll change her mind, and you’ll be able to.”
“No, I’ve had her psychologically profiled. She’s not a team player. Besides, I think she enjoys the journalist cover. She and Aryeh have teamed up many times, when it works it’s to our benefit.”
“What’s their relationship? The members of the team think it’s romantic.” Any insight into Aryeh and Zara would be valuable to know.
“I wouldn’t call their relationship romantic. But they do share a passion for the work, and when the two collide a passion for each other.”
“From what I’ve gathered from his file and what the team has told me, Aryeh doesn’t seem to have any other relationships that could classify as romantic.”
“Long story short, he lost someone, a fellow agent. We nearly lost him after her death. It was his fault, or at least he perceives it that way. There is no recovery from the loss he lives with. He’s spent his career making amends for his failure. Who he is, is not what you see.”
“Sometimes it just takes the right woman to change a man.”
“What happened between you and Layla was an aberration. Escaping from Iran and saving her life melted your heart. At one point, I thought Zara might do the same for Aryeh. However, the trouble is she’s the same as him. Where her heart should be, there is only a petrified stone.” Noam shrugged. “Makes for a formidable spy.”
Cyrus couldn’t help but smile. Over the last few meetings, he and the Ramsad had developed a relaxed repartee together which dispensed with the formalities of rank. “Does that mean I’m no longer formidable?”
“You? You are an enigma. Now go home to your wife and child and enjoy your last night with your family. Once Elon has nailed down security, we’ll speak. B'hatslacha. I’m counting on you.”
»»•««
Gilad Abramson sat at the bar at the Pussy Cat Club nursing a whiskey. The strip show hadn’t begun yet, and above the din of revelers, the driving bass and beat of techno music made it difficult to think, which Gilad assumed was why he and everyone around him came to the seedy club.
“Sorry, I’m late.” Shura Al Amin, a Palestinian graduate student at Tel Aviv University, breathed in his ear. She slid into the empty barstool he’d saved for her. She reached under the bar and ran her fingers over his thigh, purposely skimming the head of his cock. Her hand, her lips, and tongue brushing his ear aroused him. “Did you bring it?” she whispered. “I’m getting pressure from the bastard.”
He nodded, reaching into his pocket. Taking a quick scan around him, he palmed a flash drive and dropped it into her pur
se. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it so hard she whimpered. “This is the last one. Tell your handlers I’m done. Tell them I don’t care if they post the video on the internet. You and I are finished being blackmailed by them. Do you hear me, Shura?”
She rubbed her hand. “Yes, baby, I’ll tell them. I’ve just been so scared they’d release the tape. My father will kill me. You know my family’s belief in the tradition of honor killings. It’s not just the sex, but the bondage and beating. I…I…”
“I don’t give a fuck anymore, Shura. Let it be a lesson to you.” He wanted to strangle the asshole who was blackmailing them. When he and Shura had first hooked up six months ago, they’d used an apartment of a friend of Shura’s. Gilad had never met anyone like Shura. She was sexually submissive, loved rough sex and being tied up, and had introduced him to a world he didn’t know existed. He’d discovered a type of sex which had proven to be addictive, and the pleasure the beautiful Shura delivered was irresistible to him.
They’d had no idea the apartment they had their assignations in had been wired with cameras and video recording equipment until weeks later when the blackmailing had begun. The videos of violent sex were career ruining for Gilad. But for Shura, they’d mean not only ostracism but possible death for dishonoring her prominent Palestinian family. Instead of going to his superiors, he’d submitted to the blackmail. Using his position as a computer technician and coder for Mossad, he’d delivered classified materials. Now he was a traitor to the country he loved. He’d fallen for the oldest trick in the world.
Even with his world collapsing around him, the scent and the nearness of Shura filled him with desire. “Drink up. I’ve rented a hotel room. Tonight you’re going to pay mightily for your stupidity.” He drew so close he knew all she could see was the hunger in his eyes. “It’s what you want, isn’t it, Shura? Pain and pleasure delivered in one bullet.”
He couldn’t hear her answer above the driving beat of the music, but he could see her pupils dilate and her breath grow shallow. He downed the glass of whiskey, enjoying the slow burn. “Tonight will be one you’ll never forget, baby.”
»»•««
Shura stumbled out the door of the hotel room and rammed into a massive chest. Large leather gloved hands steadied her. She shook her inebriated head and focused on the face shrouded in darkness. “I did just what you told me to do. I have the flash drive in my purse, and I drugged him. Here…” She began to search her purse. “Gilad’s in the room passed out. Now, let me pass, Amir. I don’t want to know anything about what you’re doing.”
The giant wrenched her purse out of her hand and found the key to the room and the flash drive. He stuck the drive in his pocket and inserted the key in the door. In a deep voice, he commanded. “I want you, baby. Let me show you how a real man loves a woman. Why should we let this room go to waste?”
Her heart thudded in her chest. Amir was like a god. She’d fantasized about him umpteen times, but he’d never made a move toward her. She imagined he was a master of pain and pleasure. “What about Gilad? He’s unconscious on the bed.”
“Don’t worry about him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother us.” He grabbed her hand and rubbed it over his member.
She gasped. Amir Haddad was giant in every way.
“Come on, habibi, let me give you a ride you’ll never forget.” His hot breath filled her ear. “You were destined to be my slave.” He pressed her into the door, his warm tongue seeking the hollow of her ear. “I’ve been so jealous of that bastard, touching you, fucking you. You should be mine.”
Her breaths grew short, and she felt herself go wet.
He leaned into her and lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist. His huge cock pulsed against her and she sucked in her breath.
“Hmm, that’s good. Feel how hard I am.” He opened the door and carried her into the room, squeezing her ass so hard she whimpered.
Amir set her down on the edge of the bed, and pulled a cell phone, gun, and silencer from his pocket.
Trembling, she asked, “What are you doing?”
He laughed. “It’s not for you, baby, relax.” He traced the muzzle of the gun across her lips. “I can’t wait for you to feel my barrel inside of you, but first I need to take care of business. I’m afraid your lover has served his purpose."
“But I don’t want to see you kill him.”
Anger glinted in his eyes. “Why? Are you going to miss his abuse of you? You knew the plan all along. Your instructions were to lure him to the apartment, which you did. You set him up for blackmail. What did you think was going to happen to him once he’d served his purpose?”
“I know, but I can’t see someone shot. I’ve seen enough killings to last me a lifetime.”
“I see. Violent sex is not a problem, but violent death upsets you. Go to the bathroom and prepare yourself for your lover, habibi. I want to pretend you’re one of those virgins promised to me in heaven.”
Taking her purse with her, she took a last look at Gilad and disappeared into the bathroom. She took a shower and reapplied her makeup. After a final swipe of lipstick over her lips, she exited the bathroom.
Gilad was gone. Laying on the carpet was what appeared to be a body wrapped in a blanket. Amir leaned against the headboard, his clothes neatly folded on a chair.
Her stomach did flip-flops when she glanced at what moments before had been her living, breathing lover. “Is he dead?”
“Very.” He patted the bed. “Come closer.”
She perched on the edge of the bed.
Amir pulled her closer. “I said closer.” He palmed her breast with one hand, pinching her nipple so hard she moaned. He pinched harder, and she felt a tear inch its way down her cheek. The pain made her bite her lip, and her chest rose and fell with her shortened breaths. “You’re hurting me.”
“Yes, and you like it, don’t you?”
“Yes…ahh…I do.”
“I know you do. You liked it with the traitor, but you’ll like it even better with me.” He nodded toward Gilad’s body. “Nothing he did will compare to what I plan to do to you, baby.”
Her breath caught in her chest. “What? What are you going to do?”
He licked her nipple and sucked until her back bent. “You are such a little thing. There is nothing more demanding of a person’s attention than pain. I understand your obsession with it. The pain you will feel when you meet Goliath will be the most sublime pain you’ve ever known.”
“Who’s Goliath?”
He took her hand and rubbed it against his cock.
She grabbed her hand away. She drew in a breath when she felt his size.
He laughed and pulled her tight against his body. “Don’t worry, by the time you meet him you’ll be ready. You’ll be begging for him. Just think of him pounding your sweet pussy.”
Sitting up, he removed her clothing. He ran his hands over every inch of her. He growled like an animal about to eviscerate its prey and a chill swept through her. Then he dropped between her legs and delicately feathered her clit with his tongue. In her experience, most men didn’t know how to please a woman with their lips and tongue, but Amir was unrelenting and skillful. She fisted the sheets, unable to control her writhing body. Doubling down, he stuck his finger in her and stroked her inside, while his tongue continued to dart against her clit. Her fingers dug into his scalp, and her hips rose as she came undone, her body spasming with pleasure.
The finger in her became two, circling he opened her. Her lips were parted and open. Hungrily she watched him remove his underwear. He rubbed the tip of Goliath against her lips. Her tongue licked him. “I’ll never be able to open my mouth enough to suck you, but I can lick.” She rose on her elbow and ran her tongue up and down his length. She watched his face, his pupils dilating, his massive chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Her hand firmly stroked up and down.
Amir’s growls vibrated through her. His fists pressed into the bed as he thrust his hips up in a rev
erse push-up. “Goliath wants you, habibi.” He pushed her down and lifted her leg, hugging her thigh to his chest.
“Go slow,” she pleaded. “You’re bigger than any man I’ve ever been with.”
“Slow,” he repeated, “go slow.” He eased an inch into her, watching as she licked her finger and touched her clitoris. She bit her lip and held her breath. He pushed deeper, making her cry out. “Oh, dear God…I…”
He began to thrust in and out. Clenching his teeth, he snarled. “I want more.” He rammed deep inside her, forcing her open. Pain and pleasure filled her in equal measure. He was a piston in a well-oiled engine, driving himself in and out, grunting with each thrust. Her pleasure was intense, and she exploded, her walls contracting tight around him. His head fell back, and he gritted his teeth. He pulled out of her and flipped her over. He slapped her ass and laughed when she flinched. He slapped her again until she relaxed like a ragdoll. “Do you want more, habibi?
“Yes…yes, don’t stop.”
Holding tight to her hips he rammed into her, and she cried out. He gathered a fistful of her hair and drove into her hard and fast. The sound of him slapping against her buttocks and the feel of his huge cock tunneling deeper into her made her collapse into the sheets. She could hardly breathe, but she couldn’t get enough. It was the most intense pain and pleasure she’d ever experienced. Amir had the stamina of a horse. She knew the sick part was she wanted it to hurt. She wanted to feel every second of him ravishing her. Hearing his growls sent shivers down her spine. She could even imagine dying with his powerful dick inside of her.
She wanted it to go on forever. Their bodies were drenched with sweat. She reached between her legs and caressed his balls, then she squeezed. His breath caught, and she felt an unimaginable rush at being able to control him. Her moans grew louder, her body undulating against him, “Yes, yes, oh God, you are the best. I love it, don’t stop. Keep fucking me, make me come.” She clenched, quivering around him, and ground her ass against his groin. “Don’t stop,” she screamed.