ADVENTURES THROUGH TIME (2025 Edition) by Michel Poulin - HTML preview

CHAPTER 9 – MIDDLE EAST TROUBLES

 

09:10 (Eastern Standard Time)

Saturday, November 2, 2013 ‘A’

Nancy’s suite, Le 800 Montarville condominium building Boucherville, Province of Quebec, Canada

Nancy was having a luxury this morning that she rarely had lately: she was taking it easy. Wearing only a robe and with a cup of coffee in her hands, she sat down in front of her computer, set up in the room she had turned into her private office inside of her suite. According to her official agenda in this century, she had returned from

Afghanistan barely a week ago and had spent most of those few days returning her extra military kit and being debriefed at her reserve unit and at the regional army headquarters in Montreal. She had also announced to her superiors at her unit her intention to retire soon from military service, to their utter consternation and disappointment. In reality, she had spent nearly three years of her biological life running up and down time during that single week. Thankfully, the genetic longevity treatment available to all the citizens of the Global Council, which extended her potential biological life to a maximum of over 200 years, would compensate for her hectic life through various time periods. Right now, though, her priority was to find a new civilian job.

Opening her electronic mail, Nancy saw that she had only a few unread messages in her ‘inbox’. She deleted right away two of them, which were junk mail, then opened with some expectation one message sent from the big American news network, CNN. Reading it quickly, she felt hope grow in her: CNN was inviting her to come to their headquarters in Atlanta for a job interview, with them paying for her travel expenses. That last point could only mean that they were seriously interested in her services. Consulting quickly her agenda, Nancy replied that she was ready to go to Atlanta any day of next week, thanking the CNN executive for offering her a job interview, then sent her reply. She next shouted in triumph in her chair, raising both of her arms high, before taking a sip of her coffee and opening the next message.

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That message had intrigued her at once because of its sender: the giant filmmaker Universal Productions, in Los Angeles. At first, Nancy had thought it had been sent to her by mistake, but a first quick read convinced her otherwise, apart from making her burst into laughter: they wanted her for a casting interview for a possible role as an action movie villain. She probably owed that offer to her highly publicized shootout with the Taliban in Bala Buluk, captured live by a BBC news crew and then propagated on YouTube around the World. Chuckling as she read the message a second time, she saw that the role, while very physical and involving a lot of combat skills and stunts, called for little actual acting skills, which actually made her a logical candidate for the role. In effect, she would basically be a highly visible stunt woman. Seeing that Universal was proposing her an interview date at the end of next week, with all travel expenses paid, Nancy wrote down an affirmative answer, then pushed the ‘send’ button after a last hesitation. With the occasional, periodic nature of film making, she probably could have a contract with both CNN and Universal Productions, especially since the CNN’s offer was for a position as a special international correspondent, to cover major World crisis as they popped up. The irony of her, a Chosen of The One, playing the role of a villain, particularly amused her. If that offer from Universal worked out and if she was not disappointed by the experience, this could be for her an excellent source of revenue for such part-time, occasional work, thus freeing her from having to hold a full-time job to justify her present lifestyle in this century. Getting up from her chair and going to her small kitchen corner, she took the time to prepare a solid breakfast, eating it at her small dining table set at one extremity of her lounge. She then watched the latest news on her television before returning at around eleven in front of her computer. To her joy, she found replies already in from both CNN and Universal, the first setting her for an interview for next Wednesday and the second offering her a meeting time for next Friday. Mentally thanking her good fortune, Nancy quickly sent back positive replies, then started shopping online for airline tickets and hotel reservations.

10:03 (Eastern Standard Time)

Wednesday, November 6, 2013 ‘A’

CNN headquarters, Atlanta

Georgia, U.S.A.

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‘’Welcome to CNN, Miss Laplante. Please, have a seat.’’

‘’Thank you, Miss Khosravi.’’

Nancy, wearing a blue-gray female suit, took the padded chair offered by the CNN senior vice president of international newsgathering, setting down her large black leather purse beside her chair. She then waited for Nasrin Khosravi, a mature, attractive woman of Iranian descent in her forties, to speak first. On her part, the executive eyed her in a professional way before speaking.

‘’Miss Laplante, I must say that your reputation as a daring and well-informed war correspondent was well known before the shootout in Afghanistan that went viral on YouTube last December. The few syndicated reports from you which we broadcasted in the past impressed us greatly as well. Now that your old employer is out of business, we would like to offer you the opportunity to work for us as a sort of special international crisis correspondent on an on-call basis. We would specifically like to have you for the most dangerous assignments around the World, when a single reporter has better chances to get in than a full news team and could follow if need be combatant troops as an embedded reporter. We do have already a few such reporters, but I must say that none of them even approaches you in terms of military abilities or physical stamina. I will not hide to you that the assignments you will get from us will be both very dangerous and physically demanding, with high levels of hardship and stress. We however believe that you are the most capable to meet our requirements. Your incredible language skills were also a big factor in our interest in you, since they will mostly negate the need to have some local translator having to follow you around, something that often impedes reporting in the field. Another point in your favor is your in-depth knowledge of military and international affairs and your familiarity with military equipment and procedures. In all, this makes you a very rare bird indeed, a bird that we would be most happy to have at our service.’’

Nancy smiled at Khosravi, keeping a relaxed but attentive attitude as she replied to her.

‘’You flatter me, Miss Khosravi. I must say that your offer appeals to my taste for adventure and travel. How flexible would be my employment with CNN if I accepted your offer? Would it be permissible to you if I also held another job on an occasional basis? You must understand that I cannot simply sit at home and wait for an eventual phone call. I do have to secure a living, after all.’’

‘’I understand perfectly your point of view, Miss Laplante. If you accept to work with us, we promise you at least one week of warning time before you would have to go

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in the field, unless of course you declare yourself ready to go right away when asked to. We are also ready to pay you a basic salary on top of commissions for each field assignment given to you by us. While we cannot guarantee you a minimum number of special assignments per year, due to the often unpredictable nature of World crisis, that basic salary should be a good incentive for you to give us first priority on your agenda. We have no objections to you holding another job on a part-time basis but, if we call, we expect you to be able to go to the field within two weeks of our call.’’

‘’That is quite a restrictive clause, Miss Khosravi. Very few prospective

employers would be ready to even consider me, knowing that I could be called away at any time with only a two-week notice. As for the unpredictability of World crisis, I have to disagree somewhat: a competent analyst should be able to predict fairly much in advance any new conflict, given the fact that wars don’t just pop up without reasons. To take the present Iranian-Israeli conflict, for example, talks of possible military action went on for months before Israeli planes struck Iranian nuclear facilities. If you need someone to do an in-depth coverage of major crisis, then I would be much more comfortable working on the terms of separate contracts for each crisis case I would take on.’’ The female CNN executive thought that over for a moment before nodding her head once, realizing that her initial offer had maybe been a bit unrealistic.

‘’Very well. If you can assure us of a reasonable level of availability for given periods of time, we could go the route of individual assignment contracts. If you could let us know in advance about your periods of unavailability, that would of course help us greatly in planning assignments for you.’’

‘’Of course! I would certainly do my best to keep you abreast on my availability, Miss Khosravi. Now, you do realize that the kind of reporting profile you are asking for would be best done with field equipment specifically designed for such assignments, especially if I have to work alone. Your present field equipment, while excellent, is quite bulky and implies multiple individual loads if you require instant satellite communication capability. I have had in mind for some time already a few ideas on how to adapt existing equipment to such field tasks.’’

‘’If you do agree to work with us, we certainly will listen to your ideas on that subject, Miss Laplante. Right now, we already have one assignment in mind for you, one that is not too time-sensitive but would imply traveling to various battlefronts in the Middle East. I am talking about the present Israeli-Iranian conflict and its various side shows, including the fighting in the Israeli-Lebanese border area. We would like to send

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you there sometimes this month, if of course you accept to work for us. Your job would be to observe the situation, then make an on-the-spot analysis, in order to produce a special documentary report on that conflict. This would imply a contract for about a month of field work over there.’’

‘’Now, you are seriously interesting me, Miss Khosravi. While I am due to attend another job interview this Friday, I will be able to give you a definite answer on such an assignment by next week, at the most.’’

‘’Just out of curiosity, could I ask who is interviewing you this Friday, miss?’’

‘’You can.’’ replied Nancy, smiling. ‘’It is Universal Productions.’’

‘’Universal Productions?’’ said Khosravi, flabbergasted.

‘’Yes! They are interested in possibly casting me as a villain in a future action movie. It could actually turn out to be a fun job for me.’’

‘’I’d say! Have you some acting experience already?’’

‘’None at all, but having to interview warlords and government officials has given me quite a lot of practice in front of a camera. Besides, the role they want me to take demands lots of combat skills but few acting skills.’’

‘’I see! Now, let’s discuss what kind of financial compensations you would be expecting…’’

Nancy ended up leaving Khosravi’s office after nearly one hour of conversation, with a promise to give a definite answer on the Middle East assignment by the end of next week. Since Nancy had not been greedy about her salary expectations, she and Khosravi had arrived fairly quickly at an understanding about the terms and limitations of any contract she would eventually sign with CNN, leaving Nancy plenty of free time for other occupations. She now only needed to see if Universal Productions’ offer would prove to be a reasonable one.

13:36 (California Time)

Friday, November 8, 2013 ‘A’

Lobby of Universal City Plaza building

Universal City, Los Angeles County

California, U.S.A.

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Channing Tatum was sitting and discussing with his agent on one of the visitors’ benches in the lobby of the 36-story building housing the headquarters of both Universal Productions and NBC, when the entrance of a tall and beautiful woman caught his eyes. While many beautiful women and teenagers walked in and out of this building on any given day, that one had a special quality to her. Dressed in a skin-tight black satin jumpsuit and knee-high black leather boots with moderately high heels, the woman stood a good 188 centimeters, heels included, and sported wide, muscular shoulders. Her shape was however very feminine, with large hips, a generous and apparently firm chest and long, athletic legs. Her long black hair went down to the middle of her back and her green eyes reflected quiet strength, while her gait was like that of a dangerous feline. She didn’t carry a purse, instead wearing a wide black and silver leather belt to which a black leather pouch was hooked. Tatum’s agent also followed the woman with his eyes, like most men present in the lobby.

‘’Wow! That is what I call a splendid cat. I wouldn’t mind being her agent, whoever she is.’’

‘’And I wouldn’t mind doing a love scene with her.’’ added the actor. ‘’I wonder if she is here to see someone at Universal. She would be perfect for the role of the Shadow Dancer.’’

His agent nodded: he had pushed for Tatum to be chosen for the main role in the still-to-be-produced action movie ‘CROSSROADS’ and had seen a preliminary draft of the script.

‘’Well, she will need more than simple looks to land that role, Channing: it is a very physical role, with plenty of risky stunts and combat scenes.’’

‘’If she is half as good as she looks, then she should do the trick.’’ replied Tatum, watching the woman as she went to the reception desk, probably to announce herself and get directions. An NBC news anchorman whom Tatum knew and who was sitting on the bench opposite that of the actor and his agent suddenly seemed to recognize the woman and smiled to Tatum.

‘’Hey, that’s Nancy Laplante, the so-called ‘Afghanistan’s Calamity Jane’. I had to present a news piece about her last December, along with another one two months ago, when she was still in Afghanistan.’’

His curiosity aroused, Tatum went to sit alongside the anchorman.

‘’What can you tell me about her, Jeff?’’

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‘’She’s a Canadian Army reservist officer and a war correspondent. She is a master pistol shooter and has a black belt in karate, plus has covered numerous wars in her career.’’

‘’So, she would be good in movie combat scenes?’’

The anchorman gave him a funny look.

‘’Good? From what I know of her; she could easily clean Gina Carano’s clock…or yours.’’

That brought a wide smile on Tatum’s face.

‘’That good, hey? Thanks for the info, Jeff.’’

The actor then returned to the bench still occupied by his agent, who looked at him with intense curiosity.

‘’So? What did he say?’’

‘’That she is plenty qualified for the role of the Shadow Dancer. Her name is Nancy Laplante. You may want to keep an ear up about her.’’

‘’I certainly will.’’

Having announced herself at the reception desk, Nancy then took an elevator cabin to the tenth floor, stepping out in the reception lobby of the Universal Productions executive suites. After speaking to the receptionist controlling the access to the suites, she went to sit on a bench outside one of the offices, where she waited to be called in. She had to wait for less than fifteen minutes before a man in his forties came to see her, a big smile on his face. He was a bit pudgy and already had lost much of his hair but his suit was an expensive one. Nancy rose at once to her feet on his approach.

‘’Miss Laplante, I believe? I am Daniel Whitfield, vice director of casting at Universal. I am truly happy for you to have come.’’

‘’It was my pleasure, Mister Whitfield.’’ said Nancy while shaking his hand firmly, intentionally putting quite a lot of strength in her grip and surprising the executive.

‘’My! You are quite a strong woman, Miss Laplante, judging from your grip. But let’s go into my office to discuss our business.’’

Nancy was then invited into a large, posh office adorned with dozens of framed pictures of movie stars hooked to the walls. The executive proudly showed the pictures to her as he rounded a huge work desk.

‘’Some of the stars I enrolled for Universal. If you convince me to hire you, miss, you will be in good company.’’

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‘’Indeed, Mister Whitfield.’’ said politely Nancy, taking the swivel seat facing the desk. ‘’Before we go further, I must remind you that I am planning to continue on a part-time basis with my present career as a war correspondent. In fact, I should leave in about two weeks for a field trip to the Middle East which will be about a month long. However, if I am informed in advance about a casting offer from Universal, I will do my best to arrange my agenda accordingly.’’

‘’You already stated in your email your wish to go on as a war correspondent and I appreciate your warning, miss. That said, we are still most interested in using your talents for our coming film, which should start production early next year.’’

‘’And I am most interested in seeing what you have for me. You want someone with developed combat skills to play the role of a villain, right?’’

‘’Not any villain, miss.’’ corrected with a smile the Universal executive. ‘’The Shadow Dancer is supposed to be a highly trained assassin in the pay of a powerful international consortium bent on suppressing a few dirty secrets. The script of our movie ‘CROSSROADS’ is still only at the draft stage and can still be modified somewhat, but that is basically the role we are looking to fill with you…if you prove yourself qualified. By the way, your present outfit looks perfect for the Shadow Dancer.’’

‘’Thank you! I thought that you would like it. Most men who crossed my way seemed to like it, in fact.’’

Whitfield couldn’t help then admire openly her shapely, athletic body, thinking that male moviegoers should also appreciate the sight of this Laplante. He then got to the serious part of the interview and took a pen and a notepad, ready to write down notes and comments.

‘’Well, now that I have you here, Miss Laplante, would you mind telling me if you have any acting experience?’’

‘’Acting per say, no, but as a war correspondent I recorded many on-camera interviews with various warlords, politicians and military officers.’’

‘’That is a good start. Describe to me the qualifications and skills which you think would be relevant to help you play the role of the Shadow Dancer?’’ Nancy nodded once, then took out from her belt purse a folded sheet of paper, giving it to the executive.

‘’I took the liberty of making a list of my relevant skills before coming to California. This is your copy to keep. As you will see, I am the number two female karateka in Canada and am ranked number twelve in the World. I have won many combat pistol

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and long-range pistol shooting competitions in Canada and the United States, practices skydiving, scuba diving and gymnastics and am familiar with most existing small arms, including machineguns and grenades. I am a history buff and have extensive practice in the use of medieval and ancient weapons. I am also an expert horse rider. In terms of linguistic abilities, I added to my list the languages I can speak fluently.’’ Whitfield reviewed the list carefully, quickly becoming seriously impressed: this woman was even more qualified than he had expected…if she was not simply bragging.

‘’This is very impressive indeed, Miss Laplante. The fact that you can ride and fight with ancient weapons could actually be very useful to us for roles in future movies set in historical periods. Now, I have arranged for a number of our trainers and experts to test you in various combat skills, including shooting. Would you mind passing such tests this afternoon? Do not worry about ruining your nice outfit: we have plenty of action outfits available in our studios.’’

‘’I do not doubt that, Mister Whitfield, and yes, I am ready to pass your tests this afternoon.’’

‘’Excellent!’’ said the executive at the same time he picked up his telephone receiver and punched in a number. ‘’One of my assistants will escort you to our training facilities. The tests should take a few hours, so I will see you again tomorrow morning at ten, after I had the chance to review your performance. We will of course pick the tab for your hotel and restaurant bills in the meantime.’’

‘’You are too kind, Mister Whitfield.’’ replied Nancy with a big smile.

18:16 (California Time)

Universal Productions, cafeteria of the senior administrative staff Universal City Plaza building

Daniel Whitfield was still eating his supper, alone at a table of the cafeteria used by the executive and administrative staff of Universal, when four of the stuntmen and specialists used by the studios to train actors for action roles showed up and walked directly to his table. Whitfield was not surprised by that, as he had asked them to report to him as soon as they were finished evaluating Laplante. Putting down his fork and wiping his mouth with his napkin, he signaled the four men to sit down at his table.

‘’So, how did it go with Miss Laplante?’’

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One of the trainers, an experienced ex-Navy SEAL commando, gave him a funny look as he sat opposite to Whitfield.

‘’Uh, did you grab an actual special operations soldier or professional assassin to play the role of the Shadow Dancer, sir?’’

A bit taken aback by that, Whitfield took a second to respond.

‘’Well, she is supposed to be a battle-hardened officer and war correspondent, Mac. Why do you ask?’’

‘’Because my ego just took a big hit with her: she cleaned my clock in terms of pistol and rifle shooting and beat my own best time in the tactical SWAT house run. She is also extremely knowledgeable with guns of all types and can throw knives around like a ninja. Oh, did I mention that she beat the crap out of me in unarmed combat? That woman is as well incredibly strong and fast, sir.’’

Whitfield, impressed and pleased, looked at another trainer, an expert martial artist.

‘’And you, Hiro, what do you think of her in terms of martial arts?’’ The Japanese-American answered at once in a quiet tone.

‘’She said that she is a 5th Dan black belt karateka and I believe her, sir. She is truly World class as a martial artist. Her repertoire is mostly limited to karate and kung fu, but she is still impressive. By the way, she speaks fluent Japanese, sir.’’ Whitfield next looked at his medieval combat specialist.

‘’Bill?’’

The medieval buff and expert horseman made a face then.

‘’Laplante is a true expert with all blade weapons and can shoot a bow about as well as Robin Hood, boss. She is particularly good with a long sword or a saber. As for horse riding, I think that she was born on top of a horse. If you ever want someone to replay the role of Xena the Warrior Princess, then she is it.’’ Whitfield grinned, not believing his luck. He looked last at was his artistic skills judge.

‘’And how did our combat machine do in acting skills, dancing and singing, Peter?’’

‘’She did extremely well in the standard acting skills test, considering that she never studied acting, sir. She is easily proficient enough in acting to play the Shadow Dancer. In fact, we may want to give her more lines than originally called for by the draft movie script. Laplante has a beautiful voice and can sing very well, and that in many languages. The funny part was her dancing. She is very fluid and flexible and is reasonably good at modern dancing styles but is at her best dancing past, exotic styles.

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She could have fit in a harem as a dancing girl. She also can play a number of instruments, being best with a guitar and a piano.’’

Whitfield’s eyes sparkled with glee.

‘’Hell, did we just find the next big Hollywood star in terms of action movies? Uh, how is she in terms of body looks, Peter? Did she object to undressing in front of you?’’ The artistic judge, a known homosexual, shook his head.

‘’She understood the need for me and my photographer to see and photograph her naked, to see if she had any physical blemishes which could detract on the big screen. She told me that she would not object to nude scenes, as long as they are not gratuitous or pornographic in nature. To make it short, Laplante has a beautiful, sexy body and has the looks of a female Olympic athlete. My photographer nearly drooled while watching her. By the way, she shaves her groin. There is only the matter of her scars.’’

‘’Scars?’’ said Whitfield, surprised and confused. ‘’What scars and how bad do they look?’’

‘’They are actually old scars and are quite faint but are still noticeable, sir. She has multiple scars from bullets and shrapnel pieces on her upper left arm, her buttocks and the back of her legs, plus scars from a knife wound on her upper left leg. She said that she collected them both as a war correspondent and as a military officer on overseas operations.’’

‘’But, that’s perfect!’’ exclaimed the executive. ‘’She fits in the mold of the Shadow Dancer to a ‘T’. Do you have the pictures you took of her with you?’’ Peter nodded and took a file folder out of his briefcase, handing it to Whitfield. The executive first pushed away his tray of food, then spread the twelve large prints he found inside the folder in front of him on the table, making three of the four trainers bend forward to look at them with gleeful smiles.

‘’Wow!’’ exclaimed Mac, the ex-Navy SEAL. ‘’Talk about eye candy.’’ A male employee passing by the table at that time got transfixed by the pictures and collided with a nearby table, spilling his glass of milk and making him swear. Whitfield giggled as the employee put down his tray to clean up the mess as best he could.

‘’Well, it seems that Miss Laplante can have quite an effect on men. That’s another point in her favor.’’

A female secretary who had been following the man who had spilled his milk and had stopped behind him looked at the pictures on the table and smiled.

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‘’She could have an effect on quite a few women as well, sir.’’ Whitfield smiled at the young and pretty woman, who was an overt bisexual girl.

‘’You think so, Jennie?’’

‘’I sure wouldn’t mind meeting her, sir. Don’t put her near Angelina Jolie or Lucy Liu: you probably would get quite a meltdown. Who is she, if I may ask, sir?’’

‘’A prospect for our next action movie ‘CROSSROADS’. Her name is Nancy Laplante.’’

‘’Hmmm… I think that I will have to Google her name tonight.’’ said the secretary before going her way. Whitfield then looked back at his trainers, grinning.

‘’Well, gentlemen, I think that we have a winner here. Let’s just hope that she will not be too greedy tomorrow morning.’’

10:26 (California Time)

Saturday, November 9, 2013 ‘A’

Daniel Whitfield’s office

Universal Productions headquarters

Nancy hid a smile as she read the draft contract given to her by Daniel Whitfield: the terms, especially the attendance requirements for the production of the movie ‘CROSSROADS’, agreed quite well with her. The proposed salary was also more than she had expected and there was a clause which opened the possibility for her to do more movies with Universal in the future. If she wanted a safer alternative to her life as a war correspondent, this would be it. No doubt Mike Crawford would feel much better if she limited or stopped her battlefield ventures in this century: her adventures through time were risky enough as they were. Looking up from the draft document, she smiled widely to the Universal executive.

‘’I agree with the terms in this contract, Mister Whitfield.’’

‘’Including the salary?’’ asked Whitfield, hopeful.

‘’Including the salary. I was looking to turn partly to acting mostly to cut down a bit on the risks I keep taking as a war correspondent and military officer, and not to get rich. I am 31 years-old and have already seen enough wars for a lifetime. I will eventually have to settle down into a less hectic and dangerous life…if I get to survive the next few years. If I like my experience with this movie and you are satisfied with my

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performance, then I would be most happy to entertain further role offerings. Should I sign the contract now?’’

‘’If you are in full agreement with it, yes. Take all the time you need to read the fine prints if you wish so, though.’’

‘’I already read them. Do you have a pen?’’

‘’Of course!’’ said the executive, hurrying to give her a pen. He smiled with contentment as Nancy gave him back the contract, with her signature on it.

‘’Excellent! We will then expect you back here at the end of January, for the start of the production of ‘CROSSROADS’. We will advise you of the exact date after the new year. Please don’t get killed in the meantime on some battlefield in the Middle East, Miss Laplante.’’

‘’I will do my best to stay in one piece, Mister Whitfield.’’ replied Nancy, smiling.

15:41 (Israel Time)

Tuesday, November 19, 2013 ‘A’

Mossad headquarters, Tel Aviv

Israel

‘’You wanted to see me, sir?’’ asked Bennie Kellerman after entering Moshe Eshkol’s office. The head of the counter-terrorism branch of the Mossad nodded his head and pointed one of the chairs in the office.

‘’Yes! Please sit down. You already know Mister Yosef Adamovich, I believe?’’ Bennie nodded while hiding his antipathy towards the other man sitting in the office: even for a Mossad secret agent, Yosef Adamovich was reputed to be a ruthless, nearly sadistic man, apart from being in Bennie’s mind a religious extremist with racist, intolerant views. Adamovich was mostly used for the dirtiest, bloodiest jobs, something that did not bode well about this meeting.

‘’I do, sir. What’s up?’’

‘’Miss Nancy Laplante is coming to Israel, that is what is up, Bennie.’’ said Eshkol. ‘’She applied two days ago for a visa at our consulate in Montreal. Her stated reason for her visit is to do a report on the present conflict here for CNN. Our consulate agent noted then that Laplante already had in her passport recently obtained visas for Lebanon, Jordan, Egypt, Iraq…and Iran.’’

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‘’Iran?’’ said Bennie, incredulous. ‘’The Iranians gave her an entry visa? But they must know that she is a Canadian military intelligence officer.’’

‘’Oh, I’m sure that the Iranians know about that. I have to say that I admire her nerves to be ready to attempt such a risky visit there. On the other hand, it would tend to confirm that her trip is truly meant to be part of an assignment as a reporter for CNN. With the kind of surveillance the Iranians will certainly put her under in Iran, there is no way in hell that she could do any actual spying work without being promptly arrested. However, we do know more about her than the Iranians, or anybody else as a matter of fact…in this century. I have already advised Director Levy that she is coming and got from him explicit orders concerning our secret time traveler.’’

‘’Uh, what kind of orders, sir?’’

Eshkol answered in a calm but firm voice while bending slightly forward behind his desk.

‘’Simply said, we are to kidnap her discreetly after her arrival in Israel, interrogate her and find out how she travels through time, then kill her and make her disappear. The situation around the country is getting more difficult every week and obtaining a time traveling machine from her would help us greatly in, let’s say, making a few problems disappear or even be preempted before they could even pop up.’’ Bennie was left open-mouthed for a moment before he could object in a tone he tried to keep polite.

‘’But, sir, she is a Canadian military officer, thus officially not an enemy of Israel. She even has a Taliban death fatwa on her head.’’

‘’Being a Canadian does not make one automatically a friend of Israel, Bennie. The fact that she illegally obtained AS Val rifles in the past and is a secret time traveler proves that she is not what she seems to be.’’

‘’But, both as a CNN reporter and as a Canadian military officer, her disappearance is going to create a lot of turmoil, sir.’’

‘’True, which is why you and Adamovich will have to operate with utmost discretion. You will be in charge of following Miss Laplante on her arrival in Israel, then of kidnapping her. Once you have her, Mister Adamovich will take care of extracting her secrets from her and will then get rid of her body.’’

Bennie threw a black look then at Adamovich. The thin, bearded man was smiling with what appeared to him to be anticipated pleasure. Adamovich frowned in turn on seeing Bennie’s look.

‘’What’s the matter, Kellerman? You are suddenly having scruples, or what?’’

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Bennie clenched his teeth, then looked back at Eshkol.

‘’Sir, I strongly believe that kidnapping and killing Laplante would be a grave mistake. For one, she has proved to be a very tough woman and nothing assures us that she will accept to tell us anything about time travel. Secondly, the political and diplomatic repercussions of her disappearance in Israel could be quite severe. And I am not even talking about any reaction which could come from the future, sir.’’ Eshkol’s eyes half closed as he stared hard at his agent.

‘’What do you mean by a reaction from the future?’’

Bennie then raised slightly his tone of voice, getting fired up.

‘’Sir, if she really travels to and from the 34th Century, do you really believe that she is alone in doing so, or that she doesn’t work for someone in the far future? If she disappears in Israel, then we should expect an unfriendly visit from the future, either after or before her disappearance date. We already discussed the tremendous advantages that time travel would give to anyone possessing it.’’

‘’Which is exactly the reason why we want those secrets in order to protect Israel, Bennie. As for her revealing her secrets to us, I am confident that Mister Adamovich will be able to make her talk. These orders come from high up in the government. Are you refusing to obey them, Mister Kellerman?’’

Bennie swallowed hard before answering, knowing what his response could cost him.

‘’Sir, I firmly believe that these orders will only attract disaster on us. We should find a less extreme way to find the secrets of time travel, notably by putting Miss Laplante under tight, constant, surveillance, something we have not done yet.’’

‘’I see!’’ said coldly Eshkol. ‘’I thank you for your advice, Mister Kellerman. Consider yourself off this case from this moment on. Mister Adamovich will take over Laplante’s case in your place. Make sure that you give him all the data and information you have on her.’’

‘’Yes sir!’’ could only say Bennie, fuming.

‘’Then you are dismissed.’’

It took all his will for Bennie not to slam the door on his way out.

17:06 (Eastern Standard Time)

Wednesday, November 20, 2013 ‘A’

Office of Assistant Director for Operations

CIA headquarters, Langley, Virginia, U.S.A.

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Julian Moore appeared concerned to Dean Price as the latter entered with Erik Johnson the office of the CIA’s Assistant Director for Operations. Moore showed them two swiveling padded chairs placed in front of his desk.

‘’Please sit down, gentlemen. We have just received some most disturbing information from Israel which we will need to act upon decisively and quickly.’’ Erik Johnson nodded at the words ‘act on decisively’, understanding that his talents for direct, violent action would be needed again. He sat down with Dean Price and waited for Moore to speak, which he did in a grave tone.

‘’Misters Johnson and Price, what I am going to tell you may appear to be utterly fantastic and unbelievable, but I received solid proofs that it is too true. Basically, someone we have inside the Mossad sent us last night a short report accompanied by two video recordings and a couple of photos, to warn us that the Mossad is about to do something potentially very dangerous.’’

‘’We have a mole inside the Mossad, Boss?’’ Asked Price in his usual, unceremonious way. Moore nodded and smiled weakly at that.

‘’Hey, if the Israelis think nothing of spying on us, what’s wrong with returning them the favor? Yes, we do have such a mole, which will be left anonymous for everyone’s sake. What that mole told us is that the Mossad stumbled by accident about a year ago on someone who supposedly is a time traveler. That said time traveler is about to travel to Israel for legitimate purposes and the word is that the Mossad is intent on kidnapping, torturing and then killing her in order to steal the secret of time travel from her.’’

While Erik Johnson apparently stayed impassive, Dean Price’s jaw fell to the floor.

‘’A time traveler, Boss? You’re kidding, right?’’

‘’Not at all, Mister Price. I will now play in succession the two videos sent by our mole and you will be able to tell me afterwards what you think of them, you and Mister Johnson.’’

Swiveling the screen of his computer around, Moore then punched a few buttons and called up a video file, widening it to full screen before starting the ‘play’ button. He sat back in his chair as the two action agents watched the video, which quickly attracted an exclamation from Dean Price that caught him off guard.

‘’Hey! That’s Nancy, when she shot up those Taliban assholes in Bala Buluk.’’

‘’You know that woman, Mister Price?’’

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‘’Sure, Boss! We met during a few pistol shooting competitions in the last few years. I even banged her a couple of times: a great lay, I must say.’’ Erik Johnson shook his head in amusement as Julian Moore stared with disbelief at Price. Moore however didn’t say a word and let them finish viewing the video before calling a second recording on his computer screen.

‘’Well, you should be happy to watch this next video, as the good Miss Laplante appears naked in it, Mister Price.’’

Moore then started the video taken in the office of Victor Medveyev in Kyiv. While Dean Price concentrated his attention on the woman in the video, trying to assert if she was indeed Nancy, Erik Johnson didn’t miss the hour and date of the video, appearing in a lower corner of the screen in small digital numbers. His eyes widened and he then examined carefully the woman now seen undressing in front of two men in a private study. Price was the first to speak, with the video still playing.

‘’Well, this is indeed Nancy Laplante, Boss. No doubt about it. What is so special about that video?’’

‘’Look at the time indicator on the left lower corner, Dean.’’ said Johnson. Price did so and opened his mouth wide under the shock.

‘’March 1, 1992? But…that’s impossible! Nancy was a young teenage girl at that time.’’

‘’She should have been…and was, actually.’’ said Moore gravely. ‘’I had her background checked quickly by one of our analysts, Ian Dorset, who is now by the way part of the only five Americans to know about this time traveler story. Mister Dorset vouched to me that there was effectively a teenage Nancy Laplante growing at the time in Montreal: he found her school graduation pictures online, along with other proofs that she didn’t simply invent her background history. There is more, however. The second video you saw was taken in Kiev in the home of Victor Medveyev, an arms merchant who was later busted by the Russians but managed to flee to Israel, where the Mossad made a deal with him: they would protect him and let him retire in peace in Tel Aviv, in exchange for information about his past weapons buyers, particularly those connected to the Middle East. That’s how the Mossad got the second video tape. When the Mossad connected it to the piece of news on Laplante from Afghanistan, they sent a team to her home town in Boucherville, Canada, to search her condo and bug it. There, they found nothing suspicious, except for a single small coin that had apparently been lost by Laplante on the thick rug of her bedroom. That coin had writing in an unknown language

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and bore the date stamp ‘3382’. Furthermore, that coin, once analyzed in Israel, proved to be made of 95 percent pure iridium, plus some platinum, and was adorned with a small hologram image.’’

‘’Iridium?’’ said Dean Price, intrigued. ‘’That’s not a common metal, no?’’

‘’Certainly not!’’ replied Moore. ‘’In fact, it is so rare that it is worth four times the price of platinum. Economically, it would make no sense to use such a rare and precious metal, which is about the hardest one known by the way, to produce simple coins. However, iridium is much more abundant in the asteroids flying around the Solar System.’’

Moore let that sink in before continuing.

‘’The Israelis also found the pictures of a man and of a teenage girl who appeared to be beloved ones to Laplante. The trouble is that Laplante is not married and certainly never had children, something attested by her military medical records. Here are the pictures in question.’’

Price and Johnson bent forward to better look at the two pictures now on Moore’s computer screen. Johnson nodded his head after a few seconds.

‘’They do appear to be family pictures, the way these two posed and smiled. If Laplante is indeed a time traveler, then this man and girl could be living in the future, probably in the 34th Century. This case is definitely shaping up to be a critical one, sir. You do realize how dangerous the knowledge of time travel would be for us if some irresponsible idiot gets hold of it in our era, sir? In fact, I am not sure that I would trust our own politicians and military leaders with that secret.’’

‘’Oh, I do, Mister Johnson. I do.’’ replied Moore gravely. ‘’Right now, not even the President knows about this, only us and two other CIA employees who have already been told by me in no uncertain terms to keep their mouths shut. The problem is that the Mossad knows about Laplante and seems intent on stealing the secret of time travel from her…any way they can. You know like me how some of the politicians in power in Israel are less than, uh, sensible when it comes to protecting and expanding their country. The thought of such men holding the secret of time travel is enough to make me shudder.’’

‘’The same here, sir.’’ replied Johnson, as a number of scary scenarios paraded inside his brain. ‘’What are your orders, sir?’’

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‘’To prevent the Israelis from stealing the secrets of time travel from Laplante and also to prevent the fact that she is a time traveler from spreading further…at all cost. You…’’

Moore’s telephone then rang, interrupting him. He picked up his receiver and answered, then listened for a few seconds with growing alarm before thanking his caller and putting down the receiver, to look gravely at Price and Johnson.

‘’This was Mister Dorset, who is the sole analyst authorized by me to know about Laplante. Our good Canadian woman left Montreal this morning, to fly to Paris and then Tel Aviv. She should be about to arrive in Israel about now, which would make it about midnight in Tel Aviv.’’

‘’Damn!’’ said Johnson, clearly not pleased. ‘’The Israelis will have a good 24 hours of advance on us to get at her. You did say ‘at all cost’, sir?’’

‘’I certainly did, Mister Johnson, and I meant it.’’ answered Moore, a hard expression on his face.

00:34 (Israel Time)

Thursday, November 21, 2013 ‘A’

Waiting parking spot, arrivals terminal

Ben-Gurion International Airport

Tel-Aviv, Israel

Sarah Manning, alone in her well-used gray Honda Civic, raised for a few seconds the picture she had been given by the CIA head of station at the American embassy, comparing it to the tall woman who had just walked out of the arrivals terminal of the Ben-Gurion International Airport. Being the rookie agent at the embassy, she had drawn this late minute task about following discreetly a Canadian reporter working for CNN who was due to arrive in Israel. Sarah had her misgivings about being sent alone and without backup like this but her superior had told her to simply follow this Nancy Laplante and find out where she would be lodging, so that a follow-up team could then take over from her. Sarah still didn’t know why that Laplante was to be followed but the woman now taking place in a taxi with her luggage was without a doubt her target. Starting up her car, Sarah rolled out of her parking spot and started following from a respectable distance the taxi, helped in that by the light traffic of this late hour.

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The taxi with Laplante inside took the highway towards Tel-Aviv, the lights of which were visible a few kilometers away to the West. As she drove, Sarah tried to figure out why the CIA would be interested in Nancy Laplante. She knew her by reputation, mostly from the BBC news video which had shown her in action in Afghanistan a year ago, thus knew that the Canadian could be a very dangerous opponent if she wanted to. In comparison, Sarah had no illusions about her own limited experience, this being her first posting after graduating from ‘The Farm’, the secret estate in Virginia where CIA field agents were trained. In fact, she had drawn the Tel-Aviv station solely because of her knowledge of Hebrew, her being Jewish. Her liberal, moderate religious outlook had however taken little time before she had become thoroughly irritated and angered by the often intolerant and arrogant attitude of many Israeli Jews, with the misogyny of the ultra-orthodox men particularly grating on her nerves. Such a feminist as Laplante seemed to be would no doubt share Sarah’s antipathy for all these stone age-thinking male fossils. Thinking about it, Laplante had the reputation of a straight-talking, no-nonsense reporter with little patience for racism and intolerance. Maybe the CIA bosses in Langley believed that Laplante was going to get herself in trouble with Israeli authorities. After long months of war and intermittent rocket and missile bombardment from both Iran, South Lebanon and the Gaza Strip, the Israeli leadership was certainly on edge and stressed to the breaking point, with the general Israeli population growing increasingly disillusioned and tired of a war their leaders had started and which was bringing them only fear, destruction and impending economic ruin.

Partly lost in her thoughts, Sarah didn’t notice the minivan and the compact sedan which had been following both her and Laplante’s taxi since the airport. At one point, as they were entering the suburbs of Tel-Aviv, the sedan passed Sarah and took position between her and the taxi. Not expecting her tailing job to be a dangerous one, Sarah paid little attention to the sedan and its three occupants, simply taking more distance in order not to attract Laplante’s attention. When the reporter’s taxi pulled to a stop in front of the entrance to one of the bigger hotels of Tel-Aviv, Sarah simply drove into an empty visitor’s parking spot in the lot of the hotel and shut down her engine. She was about to get out of her car to follow Laplante inside when a man she had not noticed approaching bent down near her open window, a sort of pistol in his raised right fist. Sarah only had time to turn her head to look at him before the pistol emitted a barely

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audible ‘puff’ and a dart stung her neck. Her vision became blurred nearly immediately and her head swam before she fell unconscious on her steering wheel. She never saw the group of four men who then entered the hotel behind Laplante.

02:56 (Israel Time)

Mossad safe house

Northern suburbs of Tel Aviv

Nancy woke up slowly, her vision blurred at first and her brain foggy. As she was still only half conscious, a horrible scream from nearby made her jerk, stimulating her back to consciousness. To her surprise, she found herself naked and tied to a wooden chair in the middle of a mostly bare concrete room. Her last souvenir had been of being in her hotel room, unpacking her things, when a hissing noise had attracted her to the entrance door. She had passed out then before realizing that someone was pumping out some kind of gas from a tube inserted under her door sill. With her vision still partly blurred, she now saw another woman tied naked to a chair, less than three meters from her. She was sobbing with pain and her face was bloodied and swollen from a severe beating, while two men stood facing her. The girl seemed barely out of her teens. One of the men then punched her hard in the face, making the girl’s head snap around, then shouted at her in Hebrew.

‘’SPEAK! WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR? WHY WERE YOU FOLLOWING US?’’

When the sobbing woman simply shook her head, the man who had struck her looked at the other man, who was holding a pair of wires in his hands.

‘’Stimulate her nipples again, Leon.’’

The man with the wires then bent down and applied the end of the wires on the tips of the girl’s breasts. She immediately tensed up on her chair and screamed for longs seconds, until the man withdrew the wires. The interrogator then brutally grabbed the girl by her hair, forcing her to look up at him as she was still crying her pain out.

‘’Do you want my friend to use his wires on your cunt, bitch? Who are you working for?’’

The girl, showing undeniable courage, shook her head again and clenched her teeth. The man with the wires then kneeled in front of her legs, tied open, and made her scream again for long seconds. Now furious and fully awake, Nancy shouted at the men.

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‘’STOP THIS NOW, YOU BASTARDS!’’

The two men turned around to face her, with the interrogator smiling cruelly at Nancy.

‘’Well well: our time traveler is with us now.’’ he said in English. Nancy tensed up in alarm at once: how could these men know about her being a time traveler? Her expression made the interrogator’s smile widen.

‘’So, it is more than mere suppositions, hey? I hope for you that you will prove reasonable, unless you want to suffer like this too curious bitch.’’

‘’I don’t know what you are talking about. As for that poor girl, you will pay for your sadism.’’

‘’Another hard-headed cunt? Leon, convince her that we are serious.’’ The man with the wire started stepping towards Nancy, his wires still in his hands, when he suddenly froze, his face turning red and his body starting to shake. He then let his wires fall to the ground and took hold of his head, a second only before his whole body burst into flames from inside. The man screamed horribly for a short moment, then fell to the floor, still burning and with the awful smell of roasted flesh filling the room. The interrogator could only watch that with a mix of incredulity and horror, unable to react. When he looked back at Nancy, it was to face her hateful glare.

‘’Go roast in Hell, bastard!’’

Yosef Adamovich then burst into flames as well, dying with a long scream and falling to the concrete floor. Sarah Manning, despite her pain and tears, saw clearly the whole scene and eyed Nancy with disbelief as the latter tensed her muscles and pulled hard on her ropes, making her wooden chair splinter in pieces in an incredible show of raw strength.

‘’How…how did you do that?’’ she managed to say between her puffed, split lips. Nancy took the time to get rid of the ropes still around her arms and legs before going to Sarah and kneeling in front of her, concern on her face.

‘’I’m sorry if I was the cause of your ordeal, miss. Let me untie you.’’

‘’But those men bursting in flames from within. How could this be possible?’’ Insisted Sarah as Nancy started to untie her ankles. Nancy stopped her work for a moment to look the young woman in the eyes.

‘’What is your name, friend?’’

Won over by her concerned, friendly attitude, Sarah answered her after a short hesitation.

‘’Sarah, Sarah Manning. You did cause those men to burn up, didn’t you?’’

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It was Nancy’s turn to hesitate, as she weighed what she should tell Sarah. She then went back at untying her as she answered calmly.

‘’Let’s say that God was not on their side, Sarah.’’

As she switched to the back of the chair to untie her arms and wrists, Sarah moaned with pain, her legs closing. Once her arms were free, she covered her nipples reflexively.

‘’God, this hurts!’’

Her heart broken by her cries of pain and unwilling to let her suffer simply to protect her secrets, Nancy went to kneel again in front of Sarah, gently taking hold of her head and staring into her tearful eyes.

‘’God has heard you, and he hurts as well for what was done to you. Do not be afraid by what you will see next, Sarah: I only want to help you.’’ She then gently covered Sarah’s breast with her hands and concentrated. The American’s eyes widened when Nancy’s hands started glowing, soon surrounded by halos of pure white light. At the same time, the pain of her electrical burns gradually but quickly disappeared from her breasts. Nancy then put one hand on Sarah’s groin and the other on her face. Her hands glowed again and Sarah’s last wounds healed within a minute, leaving her to look at Nancy with reverence.

‘’An angel! You must be an angel. Thank you!’’

Nancy eyed her gravely: as sensitive as the revelation of her supernatural powers was, it was still better to make Sarah and whoever else would chase after her believe that she held her time travel capacity from some divine gift, rather than having anyone in this century believe that there was some kind of time machine available to be taken or stolen. Still, this was all very bad news for her and had the potential to end in catastrophe if she didn’t play the game right.

‘’I am not an angel, Sarah, just a Chosen. I promote kindness, compassion and tolerance and also help the innocents…when I can. I am however still very much a mortal, even though I hold extensive powers from The One.’’

‘’The…The One?’’

‘’Many would call him ‘God’. I call him ‘The One’. Can you get up now?’’

‘’Y…yes, I believe so.’’

‘’Then, we should find back our clothes. I will also have to see if they brought my luggage here. I had some very expensive reporting equipment loaned from CNN that I would hate to lose.’’

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Still under the shock of what had happened in the last minutes, but with her pain thankfully completely gone, Sarah got up from her chair and pointed at the sole door of the room.

‘’I believe that we are in the basement of some house near Tel Aviv. Our things are probably upstairs, but there could still be more of those bastards as well.’’

‘’If there are, I will take care of them. Who were those pieces of trash, anyway?’’

‘’I believe that they are Israeli agents, either from the Mossad or the Shin Bet. They only spoke Hebrew between themselves. Uh, what did they mean about you being a time traveler, Miss Laplante?’’

Nancy stopped to face her, concern on her face.

‘’You know me, and were following my taxi, yet are not an Israeli agent. Who do you work for, miss?’’

Sarah bit her lips but didn’t answer. Somehow, that made Nancy shake her head slowly.

‘’Decidedly, too many people seem to have caught an interest in me lately. Believe me, Sarah: my secrets are not meant for anyone else but me. Those who will try to find out about them may quickly regret it.’’

‘’Even me?’’ replied Sarah. Nancy shook her head, becoming serious again.

‘’No, unless you try to attack or kill me. I do not do the Devil’s work, on the contrary. Now, follow me as quietly as you can and let me do the talking and acting.’’

Still naked, like Nancy, Sarah walked out of the torture chamber, stepping out in another basement room that was half filled with old furniture and dusty boxes. A wooden staircase was visible in a corner of the room, leading upstairs. Her mind was swirling with questions and doubts as she followed the Canadian cautiously up the stairs, trying not to make any noise. What was this Canadian, really? The notion of ‘Chosen of God’ was simply too fantastic to accept without serious proofs. On the other hand, she had incinerated alive two men with only the power of her mind and had shown the strength of ten men, then had healed her with the bare touch of her hands. There were also the words used by her now dead interrogator, about Laplante being a time traveler. The only thing that Sarah could say about her was that the Canadian reporter appeared to be a decent person. Sarah then noticed the old scars from bullets, shrapnel and blades on Laplante’s buttocks and upper legs, which were presently level with her eyes as the Canadian was going up the stairs ahead of her. There were many of them, faint but still noticeable. Sarah then remembered that Laplante was a war reporter and a

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reserve army officer and put the scars on account of her occupation, then concentrated on their present situation.

Pushing slowly the door at the top of the staircase so that it would not squeak, Nancy looked through the crack once opened by a few centimeters. The door opened on a short passage which gave two meters away on a kitchen. A woman was sitting in the kitchen at a small table, her back to Nancy. Somehow her posture seemed curious to her, with her head held in her hands, until she scanned her telepathically: the woman was distraught by the thoughts of what was going on in the basement and was mentally cursing the interrogators. Still moving as silently as she could, Nancy finished opening the door and stepped in the hallway, then took two steps before stopping at the entrance to the kitchen. She could now see that the woman at the table wore a holstered pistol against her left ribs. The woman then slowly turned her head and saw Nancy from the corner of one eye. Snapping her head in alarm, her right hand flew towards her holstered pistol as she pivoted her chair and got up at the same time. To her surprise and that of Sarah, the pistol suddenly flew out of its holster by itself, ending up in Nancy’s extended hand. The Israeli woman looked at her pistol, now in Nancy’s hand, then into Nancy’s eyes, her face reflecting both disbelief and incomprehension.

‘’How did you do that?’’

‘’Through the power of my mind.’’ answered calmly Nancy, then handing the pistol to Sarah, who gratefully took it. ‘’Be cooperative and you will live. Where are our clothes and my luggage?’’

The Israeli hesitated only for a second before answering Nancy.

‘’They are in the lounge, behind you. Where are Yosef and Leon?’’

‘’They are dead, as they should be. Are there any more agents in this house?’’

‘’No! They left for a couple of hours.’’

What Nancy read telepathically in the woman’s mind was that the two agents who had left had done so in order not to have to be present while she and Sarah were being tortured, something that was to their credit in a way.

‘’Why do you think that I am a time traveler?’’

This time, the Israeli did not answer, but her thoughts betrayed her to Nancy, who made a wry smile.

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‘’That is not important anyway. I will give you a message from me to your government that you will deliver once we have left. Tell them that it must stop any action against me and leave me alone from now on, free to do my job as a war correspondent.’’

‘’And if it doesn’t?’’ shot back the Israeli in a defiant tone. The latter suddenly fell backward, as if pushed by an invisible hand, falling on her back over the small table. Nancy then stepped forward as the Israeli tried vainly to get back on her feet, as if her back was glued to the table. Stopping less than one pace from her, Nancy looked down at her with cold eyes.

‘’Then, I will have to kill the agents sent after me. I do not wish ill to Israel but its own arrogance and intolerance will be its downfall. I came to Israel as a reporter and I will do my job, then will move on.’’

‘’What are you?’’ nearly shouted the Mossad woman, close to hysteria as she still tried to get off the table but was kept down by some invisible hand. ‘’Some kind of mutant freak from the future?’’

Nancy looked down at her with near contempt, speaking in a very deliberate tone.

‘’Jews keep saying that they are the Chosen People, yet they refuse to believe that others instead of them could have God’s favor. I was born and raised in this time period and my home is in this year, like yours. Pass my message to your government and pray that you never cross my path again.’’

Nancy then extended her left hand and touched the woman’s forehead. The Israeli suddenly jerked once, then went limp, her eyes closing. Sarah Manning, who had watched the whole scene from a few paces away, looked at Nancy with wide eyes.

‘’You…you didn’t kill her, did you?’’

‘’How could she pass my message if I killed her? I simply rendered her unconscious. She will sleep for about one hour, then will wake up with a slight headache. Let’s use that time to dress back and leave.’’

They did effectively find their clothes in the small lounge of the house, along with Nancy’s personal effects. She shook her head on seeing her electronic equipment and camera spread out of their cases, apparently ready for detailed inspection by Mossad agents.

‘’I hope that these morons didn’t damage anything. That equipment is critical for my job.’’

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Sarah, who was slipping her panties on, tried something to get Nancy to say more about this crazy business of time travel.

‘’Maybe they were looking for a time machine.’’

Nancy gave her a funny look, then touched her left temple with one index.

‘’It is all in the head, Sarah.’’

The CIA rookie took that the way Nancy had hoped and eyed her with renewed reverence.

‘’What else can you do with your mind?’’

‘’Plenty! Let’s hurry, before those other agents return.’’

Sarah didn’t insist further and finished dressing quickly, then helped Nancy pack back her big backpack and her equipment carrying bags. Fifteen minutes later, they were leaving the house after taking from the still unconscious Israeli woman her set of car keys and her pocket two-way radio. They found a compact sedan parked by the side of the house, which was situated at the end of a short private road connecting with a nearby highway. Scanning the night around them and the lights of nearby downtown Tel Aviv, Sarah spoke while still looking in the distance.

‘’We must be a few miles North of Tel Aviv. This highway is the Tel Aviv-Haifa highway.’’

Nancy, who was loading her bags in the trunk of the car, smiled to her in the dark.

‘’When will you Americans finally join the rest of the World and convert to the metric system? Even the British saw the light in that respect.’’

‘’How do you know that I am American?’’ protested Sarah, attracting a grin from Nancy.

‘’Your use of miles instead of kilometers…and your answer, plus your accent.’’ Sarah suddenly felt quite foolish: this Canadian was evidently much more experienced and wiser than her. She thus shut up from then on, until they drove away and Nancy spoke again, asking her a question as she drove.

‘’Would you like me to drop you at the American embassy or at another location, Sarah?’’

‘’The American embassy will do, miss. I can give you directions.’’

‘’Thanks! And please call me Nancy instead of just ‘miss’. We are friends, remember?’’

Sarah gave her a cautious look.

‘’Meaning that it is better for me to be your friend?’’

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‘’Meaning that I sincerely want to be your friend, and not your enemy, Sarah.’’ replied softly Nancy. ‘’Now, which way to the American embassy?’’

‘’Take the highway, direction South. I will tell you when to exit.’’

Less than 25 minutes later, Nancy was stopping the sedan in front of the gates of the American embassy to let Sarah get out. The CIA rookie bent down to look at her through the open passenger’s window.

‘’Whoever you are, Nancy, thank you again for saving me and healing me. Good luck with your reporting assignment. Where will you go from here?’’ Nancy smiled at that.

‘’Just watch the CNN news. Shalom, my friend!’’

‘’Shalom, Nancy!’’

Nancy then drove off, leaving Sarah alone on the sidewalk in front of the embassy’s gate. Turning around to face the embassy, Sarah sighed as she reviewed the last few hours in her life.

‘’How the hell am I supposed to explain all this to the chief of station?’’

21:20 (Israel Time)

Office of the CIA Chief of Station

American embassy, Tel Aviv

Erik Johnson, freshly arrived from Washington with Dean Price, gave an angry look at the CIA chief of station.

‘’You sent a lone rookie agent to do a top priority job given to you by Assistant Director Moore? Are you dumb or just incompetent?’’

The chief of station, a man much older than Johnson, shot up from his chair with indignation.

‘’How dare you talk to me like this? I am the chief of station here in Israel.’’

‘’Not anymore after I tell Assistant Director Moore how you botched this job.’’ replied Johnson, not intimidated one bit. ‘’Now, where is this Sarah Manning?’’ George Olson swallowed his pride with difficulty before answering.

‘’In the personnel lounge, two doors down the hallway to the left. I could…’’

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‘’We will take it from here, Mister Olson.’’ cut Johnson, who then turned around and left the office, followed closely by a silent, stone-faced Dean Price. Olson glared as the door closed behind the two special action agents.

‘’Goddammed Action Division prima donnas! They think that they are better than anyone else.’’

Johnson and Price found Sarah Manning sitting alone in the lounge, looking at a television set. Erik was about to present himself to her when he noticed that Nancy Laplante was on television, speaking and obviously delivering one of her trademark war reports from some devastated urban landscape. The report must have been filmed hours earlier, as the Sun was still up on the picture. Like Dean, Erik stopped where he was to listen to Nancy’s report, while Sarah completely ignored them, her eyes fixed on the television.

‘’…is completely devastated after nearly a year of incessant Israeli artillery and air bombardment. Electricity and gas have been cut to the Gaza Strip by the Israelis since the start of the war and nothing can get in or out along the borders with Israel. The only sources of food and other supplies have to trickle in from the Egyptian border crossing points. As a result, local hospitals have been out of most essential medical supplies for months now and famine is widespread, while the Israeli blockade has all but killed what little local economy there had been. Added to this human misery is the carnage from Israeli shells and bombs, which are targeting area targets rather than pinpoint ones. Right now, you can see and hear such an area artillery barrage about one kilometer behind me, chewing up a residential area of Gaza City. I am presently standing on the roof of a local hospital that has received in the past month its share of artillery shells, despite being clearly marked as a hospital. This has apparently not hindered the Israelis, who regularly fly reconnaissance drones and helicopters over the Gaza Strip, from shooting at it while justifying their actions by saying that Hamas militants use the hospital as a command center. Despite all of this, the Palestinians of the Gaza Strip are not giving up yet and are grimly surviving as best they can, while Hamas fighters continue to fire the occasional rocket at Israeli villages close to Gaza.’’ As the CNN anchorman in Atlanta who was in satellite communication contact with Nancy asked a question to her, Erik took his eyes off the television set and stepped in front of Sarah Manning to attract her attention.

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‘’Miss Manning? I and my partner have been sent from Langley to handle Nancy Laplante’s situation. We would like you to come with us in a more discrete room in order to hear what happened to you and Laplante.’’

Sarah, realizing that the two men were much more senior as agents than her, didn’t protest and got up from her sofa to follow them. Erik, who was studying her face, noticed her forlorn expression. Having been told by Olson that the young agent had supposedly been tortured by the Israelis, he could understand her attitude: even without physical marks, torture deeply marked the psyche of victims, often for years after the fact. The trio did not exchange further words until they had closed behind them the door of an office assigned to Erik and Dean for their stay. Erik then showed a chair to Sarah, while Dean sat in a nearby sofa.

‘’Please sit down, Agent Manning, and tell me in detail and from the start what happened to you and Laplante.’’

Sarah nodded her head once, then started describing the events of her last 24 hours. Erik and Dean exchanged shocked looks when she described the various mental powers demonstrated by Nancy Laplante and the latter’s answers to Sarah’s question. If not for the fact that they already suspected Laplante of being a time traveler, Erik would probably have dismissed Sarah’s accounts of her powers, putting them on the pain and stress of torture. He however was taking her very seriously by the time she finished giving her description of events.

‘’So, in essence, Laplante told you that her ability to travel through time was a mental one, not a mechanical one, and that she was given a number of powers by God, that’s it?’’

‘’Yes, sir! I know that this sounds too fantastic to believe, but she plainly demonstrated her powers in front of me. You should have seen those two Mossad bastards bursting into flames from the inside.’’

‘’This stuff about being a so-called ‘Chosen’ sounds like something out of a Dungeons and Dragons game.’’ commented Dean Price from his sofa, making Erik nod slowly.

‘’Yes, but if true, and I would tend right now to believe it, it would mean that Laplante could be a very dangerous customer indeed.’’

‘’But she doesn’t want us harm!’’ protested at once Sarah. ‘’She showed compassion for me and spared that Mossad woman, despite what the Israelis were ready to do to her. You are not here in Israel to kill her, are you?’’

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Erik gave her an inquisitive look.

‘’She told you that she wanted only to do her job as a reporter, right?’’

‘’Correct, sir. You saw her reporting from the Gaza Strip on CNN, didn’t you? And if she can really travel through time via the power of her mind, then it will be quite fruitless for anybody to try stealing from her the secret of time travel. Those Israeli bastards would have tortured her for nothing. They did not find any time machine in her luggage, yet she has been able to slip inside the Gaza Strip without problems, despite the zone being under tight Israeli blockade, with nobody allowed in or out. How would she get there, unless she used time travel via the power of her mind?’’

‘’Again, I believe that you are correct, miss. You may be a rookie but you have a head on your shoulders. We are experienced field agents but we are not as familiar as you with the lay of the land here. Consider yourself as our driver and guide during our stay in Israel, miss.’’

‘’But, what about Mister Olson? He is my chief of station and…’’

‘’Screw that idiot!’’ Cut Erik. ‘’He will be lucky to keep his CIA badge once I report his stupidity to Assistant Director Moore. Laplante told you that you would be able to find her through her reports. Well, we will follow her advice.’’

‘’But we can’t get inside Gaza, sir! The place is ringed by troops and armored vehicles and patrol boats watch its shores.’’

‘’True! We will thus wait for her to leave Gaza, which shouldn’t take very long, since she is supposed to report on all the aspects of this conflict. She in fact had secured visas for Lebanon, Jordan, Egypt, Iraq and Iran, on top of Israel.’’

‘’Iran?’’ nearly shouted Sarah, stunned. ‘’But the Iranians will arrest her the moment she lands there: she is widely known to be a Canadian military intelligence officer.’’

‘’Well, since I don’t believe her to be stupid or naïve, it would make her a very gutsy woman, something I can only admire. You better go pack a travel bag with some spare clothes and essentials: we may be zipping around Israel during the next few days.’’

‘’And if we find and meet her, what then?’’ asked Sarah, suddenly suspicious. Erik smiled at her.

‘’Then, we will talk, that’s all.’’

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12:40 (Israel Time)

Friday, November 22, 2013 ‘A’

Cafeteria of the Mossad headquarters

Tel Aviv, Israel

Moshe Eshkol nearly threw his fork away in frustration as Nancy Laplante spoke on the television set of the headquarters cafeteria, delivering a report from downtown Tel Aviv, of all places. An Iranian ballistic missile had managed to pass through the air-defense batteries about one hour ago and had smashed through one of the luxury condominiums towers of central Tel Aviv, causing heavy loss of life and spectacular damage. Now, that pesky Canadian reporter was showing to the whole world that Israel was far from invulnerable to Iranian fire, something the Prime Minister was certainly not going to appreciate. The worst part was that it was nearly impossible to jam her transmissions, since it would necessitate to jam satellite communications links, thus cutting as well hundreds of links used by the Israeli government and by Israeli corporations and citizens. To top it all, Laplante had told the CNN public that the Israeli government was trying to censor her reports, something that was starting already to raise some noises in Washington.

Sitting in another corner of the cafeteria, far from Eshkol, Bennie Kellerman was secretly enjoying both his meal and the CNN report from Nancy. Even though he was loyal to Israel, he believed that too many lies and abuses had been made in the name of Israel lately, and that right-wing extremists had hijacked the national agenda, turning progressively his beloved country into an international pariah. Laplante had rightly reminded her CNN viewers that this whole mess had technically been started by Israel, with its first airstrike against Iranian nuclear installations a year ago. Turkey, a past ally of Israel, was now officially boycotting all imports from Israel and was threatening to send troops with air defense missiles to protect the Lebanese capital, Beirut, and its international airport, from Israeli airstrikes. More and more European Union member countries were also adopting boycotts of Israeli products, while Russia and China had predictably taken side firmly with Iran and had cut all ties with Israel. Only the United States and, to a lesser degree, Canada, were still fully supporting Israel. Even that support was far from assured and Laplante’s reporting of the merciless hammering inflicted on the Gaza Strip, something the Israeli government had tried to play down in

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the eyes of the World, could only weaken that support. The nearest countries which Israel could still count on now was Greece and Cyprus, or more exactly the Greek part of the island. Some mean tongues in the Israeli medias had speculated that Greek support showed more its dislike of Turkey than any true friendship towards Israel. As a result of all this, the Israeli economy had been hit hard, with its important tourist industry all but moribund now, the potential tourists scared away by the bombardments, and with its agricultural produces left to rot in warehouses, their usual export buyers now keeping their distances. The tremendous cost of the war effort, with literally tens of thousands of shells, aircraft bombs and various types of missiles being expended against Iran, the Gaza Strip and Lebanon, was also pushing down Israel into a debt death spiral. The human casualties, both civilian and military, were also mounting steadily, with the Hezbollah still offering ferocious resistance to the Israeli armored push inside South Lebanon and firing the occasional salvo of long-range artillery rockets against Northern Israel. The whole Middle East was now either on fire or in deep turmoil, all with little for Israel to show for. Another Mossad employee in the cafeteria finally changed the channel on the television in exasperation, making Bennie shake his head: how long were his compatriots going to ignore reality and believe that they had a God-given right to do whatever they wanted?

Less than one hour later, Bennie learned that Eshkol had finally convinced his superiors to publish an official, Israel-wide arrest warrant against Nancy Laplante, even sending a request to Interpol to declare her a wanted terrorist supporter. Bennie could only shake his head at these moves, which were bound to hurt Israel in the long run. The more left-wing Israeli medias, already deeply critical of the war, were going to scream about freedom of the press, and rightly so. CNN was also bound to react badly to that and lobby the American government in order to have at least the Interpol advisory against Laplante lifted. Then, about five in the afternoon, Nancy Laplante manifested herself again, this time from Haifa, where she filmed live a Hezbollah rocket bombardment on the city as rocket after rocket slammed in various areas of Haifa and its port, with the now nearly depleted Iron Dome batteries defending Haifa unable to stop more than half of the incoming rockets. What Bennie knew, and most Israeli citizens didn’t, was that after a year of war the reserves of expensive Iron Dome defensive missiles, at 50,000 dollars a copy, had all but been expended. They had done a very good job while they lasted, but the massive saturation salvoes from South Lebanon had

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finally overwhelmed the Iron Dome system months ago. Only the low state of its own reserves of artillery rockets and missiles had slowed down Hezbollah fire to a trickle. Now, it seemed that the Lebanese Shiite movement had received more rockets, either from Iran or from Russia or China, probably via Syria. Bennie, relegated to a desk job on order from Eshkol, could only watch all this and swear at the stupidity of this war.

13:17 (Israel Time)

Saturday, November 23, 2013 ‘A’

Lebanese Army checkpoint

Southern suburbs of Tyr

South Lebanon

‘’SERGEANT, SOMEONE IS APPROACHING FROM THE SOUTH ON FOOT!’’ The shout of alarm from the soldier on guard duty attracted the Lebanese Army sergeant out of the checkpoint’s sandbagged bunker and to the road chicane made of steel drums filled with sand and rocks. Lifting his binoculars, the Lebanese NCO examined for a few seconds the lone person approaching the checkpoint and still a good 300 meters away.

‘’It seems to be a civilian wearing a big backpack. He is still too far to make out in detail. Hold your fire and let him approach.’’

After a few minutes, the Lebanese sergeant was able to see the person better and swore under the surprise.

‘’What the Hell? It’s a woman and I can see the word ‘PRESS’ printed on the front of her jacket. Where is she coming from? No reporters came through here in days.’’

‘’Is she cute, Sergeant?’’ asked his sentry, smiling. The NCO smiled himself while still looking through his binoculars.

‘’Always thinking about girls, hey, Amine? I can’t tell from here yet. We will see soon enough, though.’’

The sentry was not disappointed when the woman finally got to the checkpoint: apart from being beautiful, she was also incredibly tall for a woman and had very feminine curves. She presented her passport to the sergeant with a friendly smile as she stopped in front of the chicane, with two Lebanese soldiers covering her with their rifles just in case. Her Arabic proved excellent.

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‘’Good afternoon, Sergeant. I am Nancy Laplante, reporter on assignment with CNN. I am on my way to Beirut to continue my reports on this conflict. As you can see, I already have a valid Lebanese entry visa.’’

The sergeant grinned on hearing her name and checking her passport.

‘’You are the one those damn Israelis have been trying to catch for a day now? How did you manage to cross their frontlines and those of the Hezbollah?’’ Nancy grinned in turn to the sergeant.

‘’Well, let’s say that I sneaked through the Israeli lines, while the Hezbollah let me pass after I presented myself to them. Could I pass and continue to Beirut, please?’’ The sergeant laughed and gave her back her passport.

‘’Miss, anyone whom the Israelis dislike is welcomed in Lebanon these days. I will do more than let you pass: give me a minute and I will get a jeep and driver for you. Your reports from Israel have done a lot to raise the morale around here.’’

‘’Why, thank you very much, Sergeant. While we are at it, do you mind if I record a short interview here with you?’’

‘’Uh, I wouldn’t mind, but I better get my lieutenant here first to authorize that. I’m sure however that he will love to be interviewed by you. Uh, could I ask you for an autograph before calling my officer?’’

‘’Sure, Sergeant.’’ replied Nancy, who then took out of a pocket a hermetically sealed plastic bag containing her wallet, passport, papers and cards. Extracting from the bag a calling card adorned with her photo, she autographed it and gave it to the Lebanese NCO. Seeing the hopeful look of the soldiers nearby, she smiled and took out two more cards, autographing them as well before giving them to the happy soldiers as the sergeant went to talk on a field telephone inside the bunker. Less than five minutes later, a Lebanese Army jeep showed up and disgorged a young Lebanese lieutenant, who politely saluted Nancy.

‘’Welcome to Lebanon, Miss Laplante. You wanted to make a report from this checkpoint?’’

‘’I do, Lieutenant, if it’s not inconvenient for you.’’

‘’I will be pleased to give you an interview, miss. I can also offer you a ride to Tyre afterwards, where you will be able to get a ride to Beirut.’’

‘’That would be just perfect, Lieutenant.’’ replied Nancy, satisfied.

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14: 36 (Atlanta Time) / 21:36 (Israel Time)

CNN headquarters

Atlanta, Georgia

U.S.A.

Nasrin Khosravi rushed at a near run inside the telecommunications center, finding Christiane Amanpour already there and watching with a technician a video recording.

‘’We got something new from Nancy Laplante?’’

Christiane turned her head briefly to answer her.

‘’Yes! She just sent a second report from Lebanon. Believe it or not, but she managed to get recorded video interviews from the head of the Hezbollah movement and from the commander of the Lebanese Armed Forces in Beirut.’’

‘’She did? That woman is truly incredible. That portable satellite terminal unit with hand-powered battery charger that she has is decidedly proving to be worth its weight in gold. How do those interviews look?’’

‘’Sit down and judge by yourself, Parisa. They definitely should be shown on primetime news.’’

Nasrin sat down at once, pulling a chair near that of Christiane to watch the recorded report from Nancy. As was her long-established habit, Nancy had conducted her interviews in the mother tongue of her guests, then added as subtitles the English translation of their conversations. The interviews had also been done in the open air, giving the viewers a panorama of a Beirut once again ravaged by Israeli airstrikes. Nasrin’s excitement mounted as she watched in succession the two interviews, culminating with a defiant declaration from the general commanding the Lebanese forces to the effect that his soldiers would continue resisting the Israeli invasion of their country, alongside the fighters of the Hezbollah.

‘’This is dynamite! Christiane, have these reports edited and ready for the six O’clock news. Do we know what she is planning to do next?’’ Christiane Amanpour gave her a guarded look.

‘’She placed a short phone call a few minutes after sending her video file: she is taking a plane for Tehran tomorrow morning.’’

Nasrin’s heart nearly stopped at those words.

‘’Oh my God! The Iranians will probably arrest her the moment she sets foot there. She does have a valid Iranian entry visa, right?’’

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‘’Yes, she does. The only thing we can do now is to pray that the Iranian authorities prove to be amenable with her. Frankly, I am not too optimistic about that. Remember what happened to Zara Khazemi: they threw her in jail and beat her to death after accusing her of spying.’’

Being of Iranian descent, like Amanpour, Nasrin could only nod her head slowly with dread at that.

17:39 (Washington Time) / 00:39 (Israel Time, November 24) Oval Office, White House

Washington, D.C.

U.S.A.

Barak Obama, raising his eyes from the documents he had been sifting through as quickly as he could, gave a harassed look at his two visitors.

‘’Well, gentlemen, what do you have for me that could not wait for tonight’s Middle East Crisis cabinet meeting?’’

‘’Something that we believe only you and a select few should know about, Mister President.’’ answered politely General David Petraeus, Director of the CIA, while saluting. ‘’I have brought with me my Assistant Director for Operations, Mister Julian Moore, to brief you on a most sensitive development.’’

‘’This development, could it have serious foreign and military ramifications? If yes, then at least my Vice-President should be made to know about it.’’ Petraeus hesitated for a second before answering.

‘’It could definitely have extremely serious foreign and military repercussions, and even domestic ones, if this matter would become public, Mister President. However, presenting it to the whole cabinet would be risking a near certain leak afterwards.’’ Obama gave him a skeptical look, then punched a button of his intercom, calling his secretary.

‘’Miss Brown, call Vice-President Clinton right away and tell her that I want her to come immediately to see me about a most urgent matter which has just popped up.’’

‘’Yes, Mister President!’’

Obama then looked back at Petraeus and Moore, giving them a wry smile.

‘’Now, I do hope that what you have for me was worth calling in Hillary from her hard-earned supper, General. Please, have a seat.’’

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Still not sure how to present this, Petraeus sat with Moore in chairs they put in front of the presidential desk.

‘’Mister President, this may sound totally fantastic and impossible, but we now have some solid evidence that we have a time traveler among our midst, a time traveler who also holds some incredible mental powers. That time traveler is presently traveling around the Middle East and already killed two Mossad agents who tried to steal from her the secrets of time travel.’’

Obama, having expected about everything except that, bent forward, shock on his face.

‘’A…a time traveler? Are you sure about that, General?’’

‘’About as sure as I can be, Mister President. When Mister Moore approached me first with this information, I was also skeptical, but the proofs he showed me then convinced me quickly. Our problem is that the Israelis learned about that time traveler first, through sheer luck, and are now bent on getting her secrets at all costs. The Mossad was in fact ready to torture her for that and had already tortured one of our CIA agents in Israel who had been tasked to follow that person. Thankfully, that person of interest saved our agent, along with herself, demonstrating in the process some incredible mental powers, like superhuman strength, making men burst in flames from inside, telekinesis and touch healing. We have a source inside Mossad which confirmed all this after a surviving Israeli agent reported back to her headquarters.’’ Obama sat back slowly, stunned by all this.

‘’Dear God! Is there any scientific explanation for all this? Could this…time traveler have used advanced technology to do these things?’’ Moore then took on him to answer Obama.

‘’This is where things get even more disturbing, Mister President. That person of interest confided a few things to our agent after saving her and healing her torture wounds in seconds with the simple touch of her hands. Basically, this time traveler claimed to be what she called herself a ‘Chosen of The One’, a sort of envoy given extensive mental powers by a spiritual entity who may well be God himself. She alluded as well that her ability to travel through time is also a mental one and that she needs no time machine per say. By the way, that person may well have links with the 34th Century, Mister President.’’

Obama’s face hardened as he saw the possible implications of all this…if it was true.

‘’That person, who is she? Could she be a threat to the United States?’’

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‘’We don’t think that she would be a threat to us, Mister President. She is a person of excellent reputation who distinguished herself many times as an allied officer. Here is her file, just upgraded by me. Right now, only seven members of the CIA, including me and General Petraeus, plus you, know about the true nature of this person. We believe that this number should stay as limited as possible.’’ Obama eagerly took the file from Moore’s hand, anxious to see who was such a fantastic person. He recognized at once the large color picture stapled to the inside of the ‘TOP

SECRET, CODEWORD NOFORN17’ file, having watched her sensational reports from the Middle East on CNN last night.

‘’HER?’’

‘’Yes, her, Mister President. It seems that the Taliban leaders were really asking for trouble when they put a fatwa on her head last year. On the other hand, if this becomes public knowledge, you can imagine what kind of mayhem and craziness this could cause. Just the spiritual aspect of her powers would be enough to fire up most of the religious yahoos around the World…and in the United States.’’ Obama nodded slowly, having had to deal before with political opponents and individuals who were too often inclined to claim to act in the name of God to justify the most outrageous declarations or acts.

‘’And where is this good Miss Laplante right now, Mister Moore?’’

‘’In Beirut, Lebanon, where she earlier obtained exclusive interviews with the head of the Hezbollah Movement and with the commander of the Lebanese Armed Forces. A couple of my best agents have been trying to catch up with her since she arrived in Israel two days ago. Unfortunately, the Mossad kidnapped her at once after her arrival and my agents arrived there only after she escaped the Mossad. From there, she somehow managed to slip inside the Gaza Strip, which has been under tight Israeli blockade for months, and do a report from there, then slipped back to Tel Aviv, to go next to Haifa and the Lebanese border area. She has proved extremely elusive up to now, which is not really surprising considering her powers and her ability to travel through space and time. My agents are presently on their way to Lebanon via Cyprus, but they may be too late before she departs Beirut to go to Tehran, her next expected destination.’’

17 NOFORN: (NO FOReign Nationals) Acronym used on American classified documents meant only for the attention of American citizens.

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‘’Tehran? Is she nuts? The Iranians will most probably throw her in jail the moment she lands there. After all, she is publicly known to be a Canadian military intelligence officer.’’

‘’Maybe, maybe not, Mister President.’’ replied cautiously Petraeus. ‘’The NSA intercepted a communication from the office of Sheik Nasrallah, the head of the Hezbollah, to the intelligence bureau of the Iranian Revolutionary Guards in Tehran, informing them of the impending visit by Miss Laplante and interceding in her favor. It seems that Miss Laplante somehow struck a decent rapport with Nasrallah during her interview of him. The fact that the Israelis have now officially published an arrest warrant against her and have declared her as being a quote ‘suspected terrorist supporter’ unquote to the Interpol, may also have put her in the Hezbollah’s good favors.’’

‘’The Israelis did what?’’ exploded Obama. Petraeus made a wry smile.

‘’This may very well be a case of the pot calling the kettle black, Mister President. Unfortunately, Interpol, due to the way it handles such requests by various governments, has already acceded to the Israeli demand and have put Miss Laplante on their watch list. I was told just before coming here that, in turn, our own Department of Homeland Security and the Transportation Safety Agency have as a result put Miss Laplante on their watch lists as a suspected terrorist supporter.’’

The President then slammed his fist on his desk out of frustration.

‘’The idiots! Can’t we get the DHS and TSA to back off from Laplante? And what can we do about this Interpol wanted list? She will need to travel back to here by air after the end of her Middle East tour.’’

‘’Well, we were hoping to use your direct authority for this, Mister President. That way, we wouldn’t have to get into the more sensitive details of this affair to explain ourselves to the DHS and to the TSA.’’

Obama thought for a moment before nodding once, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

‘’Very well, gentlemen. I will prepare an executive order for the DHS and the TSA, telling them to back off Laplante and to take her off their black lists. I will also tell the DHS to contact Interpol and have them take Laplante off their list as well. If anyone asks why she is to be left untouched, I will tell them in confidence that she is an undercover CIA agent. How about that?’’

Petraeus and Moore looked at each other, then smiled with mutual amusement.

‘’I suppose that Miss Laplante could get quite miffed if she hears about that, but this is for her own good and protection, Mister President.’’ said Petraeus, looking back at

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Obama. ‘’In fact, I will have a CIA identity card made for her, along with proper documentation to back it up in case the FBI or DHS digs up her credentials.’’ Someone knocked at that moment on the door of the Oval Office, prompting Obama to call out.

‘’COME IN!’’

He smiled when a Secret Service agent opened the door to let in his Vice-President.

‘’Ah, Hillary! I believe that I have something really juicy for you here…’’

08:04 (Israel Time)

Sunday, November 24, 2013 ‘A’

Departure terminal, Beirut International Airport

Lebanon

Nancy had elected to take the two bags containing her precious video camera, her laptop computer and her satellite communication link unit as carry-on bags, unwilling to let these irreplaceable pieces of equipment be handled by the notoriously untrustworthy baggage handlers of Beirut Airport. Seeing the near chaotic conditions at the airport had further convinced her of the wisdom of that decision. To their defense, Nancy had to recognize that the Lebanese employees of the airport had to deal with nearly impossible conditions, including the threat of periodic Israeli airstrikes. Another difficulty was the fact that the legitimate authority of the Lebanese soldiers and policemen patrolling the airport was constantly disputed and even overruled at times by the dozens of Hezbollah fighters and officials who were seemingly everywhere around the airport. That last factor was however playing in Nancy’s favor this morning, as she was escorted by an aide of the leader of the Lebanese Shiite political and military movement during her departure procedure. The aide, a timid young man with a neatly trimmed short beard who constantly held a string of prayer beads in one hand, bowed his head to her when the airport employee guarding the exit door leading to the tarmac opened it to let the passengers go to their waiting Iran Air Airbus A-310.

‘’It was a pleasure to know you, Miss Laplante. I wish you a safe trip to Tehran.’’

‘’And it was a pleasure to know you, Mister Labadi.’’ replied Nancy in Arabic. ‘’Thank you very much for your assistance here and tell your leader that I am looking forward to interviewing him again in the future.’’

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‘’He will be most happy to oblige you when you will do so, Miss Laplante. Again, have a good trip.’’

They then parted ways after a last salute of the head, with Nancy leading the sixty or so other passengers of Iran Air flight 512 towards their Airbus A-310 twin jet airliner.

The stewardesses of the Iran Air aircraft did their best to hide their anxiety as Nancy and the other passengers boarded the plane, using an old-fashioned mobile staircase, but tension was palpable, and for good reasons. Just a few hundred meters from the Airbus A-310 lay the blackened and half-molten remains of another Iran Air jet, destroyed on the ground weeks ago in an Israeli airstrike on the airport. Numerous antiaircraft guns of the Lebanese Army and of the Hezbollah dispersed around the airport were other reminders of the tough times the Lebanese capital and its airport were going through. On her part, Nancy smiled warmly to the Iran Air stewardess who greeted her aboard the plane, exchanging a few words in Farsi with her before going to take her seat in business class. Taking the right-side window seat of her row, she was soon joined in the same row by a seemingly well-to-do Iranian couple and their two teenage daughters. Nancy had already conversed with the small family while waiting in the departure lounge of the airport, thus didn’t need to present herself again when they sat down and buckled up their seat belts. She still smiled reassuringly to the youngest of the two daughters, a beautiful girl of fifteen who had been studying at a private Beirut college and who was occupying the seat next to her.

‘’Everything will be fine, Yasmina, you will see.’’

‘’I certainly hope so, Miss Laplante.’’ replied the girl while flashing a nervous smile. They were then mostly silent as the plane prepared for departure, with the two jet engines starting one after the other a few minutes later. The airliner then started rolling away from the departure terminal, heading for an extremity of the main runway. Nine minutes after starting to roll, the Airbus A-310 raised its nose and took off, climbing steadily to its cruising altitude and turning eastward towards Iran.

In the observation lounge of the departure terminal, Erik Johnson and Dean Price, passing themselves off as European technical consultants, watched the Iran Air flight gradually disappear in the clear sky. Dean Price finally nodded his head and spoke in French to his partner.

‘’Well, there she goes. Hopefully, the Iranians won’t pile on her once in Tehran.’’

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Erik nodded once, then pointed at two condensation trails high in the sky: the trails were now curving towards the East and the Iran Air flight.

‘’She is not there yet, unfortunately.’’

On Iran Air 512, the first sign of trouble for Nancy was when she suddenly saw a stream of tracer shells pass to the right of her plane, missing the airliner by a good hundred meters. She immediately understood what was going on: a modern fighter jet would not have missed by that much if it really wanted to shoot down the Airbus jet. The identity of the shooter was also quite easy to guess. Her presumptions were confirmed when two Israeli Air Force F-15 fighter aircraft, big machines with two engines each, pulled up to be level with the Airbus, becoming visible to the passengers of the airliner and starting a panic in the cabin. Nancy clenched her jaws together as she mentally evaluated the situation. She had no doubts that the Israeli jets would not hesitate to shoot down the Iran Air flight if the Iranian pilot refused to obey their orders. On the other hand, Nancy could not be sure if this was because of her presence aboard or if it was simply because this was an Iranian commercial plane. Either way, she couldn’t expect a nice welcome in Israel if her flight was forced to reroute itself and neither would most of the other passengers of the Airbus. At best, they would be treated harshly and be interned in an Israeli jail, where their rights would be next to inexistent, while she could personally expect the Mossad to take delivery of her. She thus couldn’t let the Israelis have it their way. Staring at the lead F-15 fighter, she mentally concentrated her powers while looking at one of the engines of the fighter jet. That engine suddenly let out flames and thick black smoke. Its pilot reacted quickly enough, activating his fire extinguishers and shutting down his stricken engine. However, flying presently over hostile territory, he didn’t take any chances and turned away towards the South and Israel, followed by his wingman. Nancy anxiously followed the pair of jets as long as she could from her window, hoping that the wingman of the wounded fighter would not decide then to blast the airliner out of the sky before escorting his leader back to base. Thankfully, the two Israeli jets disappeared together towards Israel, to the relieved cheers of the passengers of the Iran Air flight. Nancy patted reassuringly the hand of young Yasmina, who was blowing out air in relief.

‘’No need to worry anymore, Yasmina: we are now safe.’’

‘’Thank God! I was so scared. Do you think that they wanted to shoot us down, Miss Laplante?’’

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‘’I don’t think that it was their preferred option, Yasmina. They would not have fired warning shots then. They probably wanted to force our plane to go land in Israel.’’

‘’But we are a commercial flight, not a warplane. Why would they want to do that?’’

‘’Probably to go through the passengers list, to find any person of interest aboard, like a Hezbollah official or Iranian military officer.’’

‘’That’s still an act of air piracy.’’ exclaimed angrily the father of Yasmina, an import-export businessman. ‘’Those damn Israelis respect nothing.’’

‘’True, Mister Baktyar, but in this they are only following a well-established law in the Middle East.’’

‘’Oh? And which law would that be, miss?’’ Asked the intrigued Iranian man. Nancy responded with a wry smile.

‘’The law of the strongest.’’

12:50 (Iran Time)

Arrival terminal

Mehrabad International Airport

Tehran, Islamic Republic of Iran

Despite her various powers, Nancy couldn’t help feel nervous as she left her plane and entered the arrival terminal in Tehran, even though she did her best to hide it. The Iranian authorities would have every reason to be suspicious of her and could easily justify arresting her and jailing her, with little regards for her claims to be here as a simple reporter. In fact, just being a reporter in Iran was asking for trouble. When that reporter was also a foreigner from a country opposed to Iran, then trouble was next to assured. Unfortunately, being a Canadian would not help her here, contrary to most places: the present Canadian government was strongly pro-Israel, even though the Canadian public was questioning more and more such blind support. As expected, she was quickly targeted as soon as she presented herself at the customs and immigration booths after collecting her luggage, which was thankfully all accounted for. One look at her passport made the Iranian customs agent look sharply at her. Despite having slipped on a nice but conservative-looking robe with headscarf before landing, she still stood out by her sheer physical size. At least the Iranian authorities wouldn’t be able to accuse her of being indecently dressed. On a signal from the customs agent, two

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policemen came forward, while the agent stamped Nancy’s passport and gave it back to her before speaking to her in a cold voice.

‘’Would you please follow these two gentlemen, Miss Laplante?’’ While polite, Nancy knew that this was not a simple request, thus took back her passport and thanked the agent before pushing her luggage cart and following the two stern-faced policemen down a side corridor situated behind the customs booths. Three more men, those ones in civilian suits, were waiting for her in what looked like a search and interrogation room, furnished only with two tables and a few chairs. Two of the men stood in separate corners, while the third one, a man in his thirties sporting a short beard and closed-cut hair, sat behind one of the tables. He looked coldly in silence at Nancy for a moment after the two policemen had introduced her in the room, then pointed the other table and spoke in English to her.

‘’Put your luggage on this table, Miss Laplante…or should I call you Captain Laplante?’’

‘’Simply call me Miss Laplante, mister: I am here as a reporter, and nothing more. For your info, I recently left the Canadian Forces.’’ replied Nancy in Farsi. The bearded man nodded his head at that.

‘’You do speak a good Farsi, miss, although it sounds a bit quaint.’’ Nancy could not of course tell him that her Farsi sounded quaint because she had learned it first as a slave and dancing girl in the 6th Century. She thus simply smiled politely and proceeded to lay her bags on the long table and opening them. The bearded man then got up and approached the table, looking in particular at her electronic equipment.

‘’Some quite sophisticated equipment indeed, miss.’’

‘’Only the best a professional war correspondent could have, mister.’’ She then proceeded on her own to describe in detail her electronic equipment, drawing a skeptical look from the Iranian official.

‘’And you say that you are here only as a reporter, and not as a spy?’’

‘’Well, I did enter this country openly and legally, plus I have a letter of introduction from Sheik Hassan Nasrallah, head of the Hezbollah. I would also have gladly shown you the Israeli arrest warrant with my name on it, but I couldn’t unfortunately get a copy of it before fleeing Israel through the Lebanese border. Sorry about that.’’

380

Whoever he was, the Iranian official at least proved to have some sense of humor and chuckled briefly at her choice of words before becoming serious again.

‘’But you won’t deny being an officer in the Canadian military intelligence, miss.’’

‘’Was a Canadian officer.’’ Corrected politely Nancy. ‘’I came to Iran as a war correspondent, and nothing more. I am fully ready to follow and respect any restrictions you may wish to put on my reporting, as I was planning only to secure officially interviews with various government representatives. You may even attach a minder to me if this could reassure you and your superiors, mister. I would just ask you then to get me a female minder: you wouldn’t want to torture one of your men with the evil temptations of the flesh, would you?’’

This time the official frankly laughed and smiled to her.

‘’You are true to your reputation, Miss Laplante: you are a gutsy and spirited woman indeed.’’

‘’Well, the Taliban in Afghanistan and Pakistan had other words to describe me, mister.’’

The Iranian nodded in understanding.

‘’I suppose that being hated by those murderers of Shiites could constitute a reference here, miss. Still, you have a reputation as a very dangerous woman. Your government has not been very nice lately with my government, either in words or in deeds.’’

Nancy shrugged her shoulders at that.

‘’Would you say that all Iranian citizens agree with all that your government says, mister? If you say yes to that, then I would suggest that you are probably in the wrong business.’’

The official, who was starting to truly enjoy this oral jousting, nodded his head again.

‘’Touché! Well, there is still one procedure left for you to submit to, miss. If you could step through that door to my left. I promise you that there are no men in that room.’’

‘’That is truly appreciated, mister.’’ replied Nancy before opening the said door and finding three stern-looking women in dark chadors waiting for her. Resigned to a body search, she closed the door behind her and smiled at the one who seemed to be the senior woman.

‘’Well, how do you want this? A one on one or a three on one?’’

381

The outraged look on the senior Iranian woman’s face was nearly priceless, while the youngest woman barely kept in a chuckle. The senior woman then pointed a small table in one corner and growled.

‘’Remove all your clothes and put them on this table, then spread your legs and arms.’’

Not antagonizing the older woman further, Nancy obeyed, then let the younger woman bodily search her with a latex glove. When the Iranian shook her head, signifying to her superior that she had found nothing, the senior woman nodded sternly at Nancy.

‘’You may now get dressed and return in the other room.’’ Nancy obeyed again, but turned at the last moment before leaving the search room, smiling at the older woman.

‘’Nice to have known you, miss.’’

Nancy then went in the other room and closed the door as the senior woman turned red with irritation.

Major Hossein Mousavi, of the Iranian Revolutionary Guards Corps Intelligence Bureau, had a few minutes to think over Nancy’s case before she exited the search room. Potentially, she could represent a grave threat to Iran’s security if she wished so. However, her recent and most publicized past reporting in Israel and in Lebanon had not escaped the notice of some very senior Iranian officials, who had also taken note of the Israeli attempt at painting her as a terrorist supporter. Some of those high-level officials had suggested that she be used to Iran’s profit, rather than create an international incident by simply arresting her on arrival. Hossein had agreed with that suggestion, realizing too well that the Supreme Leader had been careful up to now for Iran not to get into a de facto war with the United States or Europe. On the personal level, Hossein had to confess that his initial impression of her had been quite positive. That she had suggested herself the use of a minder to escort her around actually reinforced Hossein’s opinion that she was really here only as a reporter. One of his men who had been at the arrival hall then entered the room and went immediately to him to speak in a low voice.

‘’Sir, the crew of the Airbus from Beirut has reported that two Israeli fighter jets tried to intercept and reroute it to Israel after departure from Beirut Airport, firing warning shots at our Airbus. Luckily, one of the Israeli fighters developed an engine problem during the interception and turned away with its wingman.’’

382

Mousavi gave the man a sharp look: this was quite significant, as it was the first time that the Israelis had tried to divert an Iranian commercial airliner since the start of the war.

‘’Go through the passengers list and see if there was anybody on board who could have interested the Israelis enough to have caused them to attempt to hijack our plane.’’

‘’I already did that, sir, as soon as I learned of the Israeli attempted intercept. There were no Hezbollah members or Iranian officials aboard the Airbus, just Iranian or Lebanese Shiite businessmen, family members and students. The only true foreigner on the plane was Laplante.’’

Mousavi nodded slowly his head while digesting that information.

‘’You did well to inform me of this. Good job, Reza. If you find anything else, come and see me right away.’’

‘’Yes sir!’’

The man then left the room, seconds before Nancy walked out of the body search room. Mousavi pointed one of the chairs to her.

‘’If you could please sit there and wait a bit, I have a phone call to make, miss. It shouldn’t be too long.’’

Encouraged by his polite tone and the lack of brutality up to now, Nancy simply obeyed without a word and sat down, doing her best to look relaxed. Mousavi then left the room, with his two men staying in the room to watch Laplante.

Going one level up to one of the offices reserved for the use of intelligence and security personnel, Mousavi closed the door behind him and went to sit at the desk in the small room, picking up the receiver of the telephone and composing a number. The head of the IRGC Intelligence Bureau, Hossein Taeb, picked up his receiver after the second ring.

‘’Taeb here!’’

‘’Sir, this is Major Hossein Mousavi, calling from the airport. Miss Laplante has arrived from Beirut half an hour ago and I had her and her baggage searched. There was nothing suspicious with her, except from some very sophisticated camera and satellite communications equipment. That equipment is however consistent with her claim to be a simple reporter for CNN. There is however something else that came up.’’

383

Hossein then told Taeb about the attempt by the Israelis to forcibly reroute the Iranian Air Airbus and the lack of other persons of interest aboard, leaving Taeb to be silent for a few seconds. The head of the Intelligence Bureau then spoke again in a measured tone.

‘’This actually fits with another piece of information which I just received, Major. The arrest warrant that the Israelis had published against Laplante has just been upgraded with the claim that, apart from being a so-called terrorist supporter, she supposedly murdered two Israeli security officials before fleeing through the Lebanese border.’’

Mousavi was left stunned by surprise for a moment before he could reply.

‘’But, sir, that does not make sense. I can tell you that Laplante is a very intelligent and professional woman and that she would not have compromised her assignment as a reporter that way, unless she had very serious reasons to kill Israelis. Could this be simply Israeli disinformation to justify her arrest, sir? Besides, why are the Israelis so hard on her trail? Canada is supposed to be a good ally of Israel and she is certainly no terrorist. I don’t understand their interest in her. If she was only being nosey while in Israel, then the Jews would have needed only to expel her, something they don’t shy from doing with unwanted foreigners.’’