CHILDREN OF TIME (2025 Edition) by Michel Poulin - HTML preview

CHAPTER 14 – RESCUE MISSION

17:39 (Montreal Time)

Tuesday, February 16, 2016 ‘A’

Suite 215, 800 Montarville

Boucherville, Province of Quebec

Canada

Nancy closed and locked the door of her condominium suite behind her, then temporarily suspended in the entrance closet the dress bag she had brought in before taking off her winter coat and boots. Mid-February was when you could expect about the worst from the Canadian Winter and this year was no exception. Rubbing her frozen cheeks with her hands to reestablish sensations to her face, Nancy then grabbed back the dress bag from the closet and brought it to her bedroom, where she laid it on her big bed before unzipping it opened. The splendid emerald green and gold reception gown she took out of the bag had just been picked up by her in a Montreal haute couture boutique and had cost her over 3,400 dollars. Normally, she would consider such an expenditure to be an extravagant waste of money, but one didn’t show up on the red carpet in Hollywood for the Academy Awards annual ceremony while dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She had after all been nominated as one of the finalists for the award of Best Actress in a Drama Motion Picture, for her role as the main protagonist of ‘DANCES WITH THE SHADOWS’, the prequel to her first movie ‘CROSSROADS’. Her latest movie, which told the story of how her personae of The Shadow Dancer had evolved from being a promising French secret government agent to that of an international assassin for hire, had been a resounding success, both with critics and at the box office. With her previous Oscar nominations in 2015 and 2016 for the Supporting Actress in a Drama award, first for ‘CROSSROADS’ and then for ‘AVENGERS 2’, this nomination and her last movie had definitely consecrated her career as a respected and sought after actress. The surest mark of this was the fact that she had been asked a month ago to play one of the main roles in the next James Bond movie. While she didn’t intend yet to give up war reporting, she certainly felt that she could start slowing down a bit in that respect. Her husband Mike and her children, living

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as they did in different time periods than this one, would certainly feel happy about that. Her secret career as a senior field agent of the Time Patrol was already risky enough as it was, but her crazy stints at war reporting in the 21st Century were starting to seriously worry her family.

Next out of the bag was a pair of expensive high heel shoes matching the gown. While also expensive, that pair of shoes got a less enthusiastic glance from her, not because they were ugly, but rather because she still wondered how women could have put up for so many centuries with something as uncomfortable as high heel shoes. The answer was of course that such shoes made them look taller, but Nancy didn’t need high hell shoes to feel tall enough. She felt a lot more comfortable in a pair of combat boots or running shoes. Stowing her new shoes in a box inside her bedroom closet, next to her new gown, she then went to wash her hands before going to her small kitchen to prepare her supper.

With a beef stew warming up in her kitchen, Nancy served herself a glass of chilled, fruity white wine before going to sit in her lounge in front of the television. An eternal news freak, she switched her television set on to the CNN channel as she sat down on her couch. She wasn’t even fully sitting before she froze with alarm on seeing a flash news scroll across the bottom announcement strip: Anderson Cooper had been kidnapped in Afghanistan! Deadly worried at once, she raised the volume and listened on to the CNN news anchor, who was in fact talking about that precise piece of news. The details were still very sketchy, but the star CNN anchor and talk show host had been kidnapped about twelve hours ago near the Pakistani border in Kandahar Province, while his cameraman and his local interpreter had been killed, along with a number of Afghan policemen escorting him. Nancy nearly threw up her hands in frustration when the anchorman said that, while unconfirmed, the kidnapping could have been the work of Taliban extremists.

‘’Of course it is the Taliban, Greg! Who else could it be down in Kandahar?’’ Containing her frustration and worries, she listened carefully to the next twenty minutes of the news broadcast, nearly forgetting in the process her stew and taking the pot off the oven only when alerted by the smell of something that was starting to burn. Swearing like only a Quebecer could do, she quickly saved what she could of her supper before sitting back with her plate in front of her television set. Unfortunately, very few

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extra details became available in the next hour, except for the fact that the White House and American State Department were aware of Cooper’s kidnapping. Unfortunately, there were no American soldiers left in Afghanistan these days, save for a few liaison officers and training specialists in the capital, Kabul. If there were any American special force units left in Afghanistan, the White House certainly wasn’t saying so, while the present relations with the Pakistani government pretty much ensured that no American soldiers would be present in Pakistan and ready to track down Anderson Cooper’s kidnappers there. Finally, Nancy grabbed her telephone and called CNN headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia, passing by the duty dispatcher to get in contact with the central newsroom there and obtain as much information as she could about Cooper. Unfortunately, what she got then was flimsy indeed. Putting down slowly her telephone receiver, Nancy then thought about what she could do. Contrary to most people, she knew quite a lot of details about the Taliban and their organization in that region, and for good reasons: they had put a death fatwa, or religious edict, on her head while she was still an officer in the Canadian Military Intelligence. With a prisoner as valuable and World-renown as Anderson Cooper, his handling would most probably be controlled by the upper top command echelon of the Taliban. That, and the fact that he had been kidnapped in Kandahar Province, near the Pakistani border, was enough for Nancy to focus her mind on a particular region of Pakistan. Her mind made up, she got up from her couch and went to her bedroom to start packing things for a sudden trip.

10:03 (Washington Time)

Thursday, February 18, 2016 ‘A’

Operations Directorate’s conference room

CIA headquarters, Langley

State of Virginia, U.S.A.

Deputy Director for Operations John Moore appeared rather somber to Dean Price as he sat down with Erik Johnson and other agents and analysts of the Operations Directorate in the large, sound-proof and bug-free conference room. The big and strong CIA covert action agent already could guess why they all had been called in like this with little advance notice: it must have something to do with the kidnapping of the star CNN talk show host, Anderson Cooper, in Afghanistan two days ago. Unfortunately, Dean, along with his longtime teammate Erik Johnson, knew that the CIA could do little in

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Afghanistan or Pakistan at this time: most of the CIA agents and informers had either been burned and forced to leave Afghanistan after the departure of the American forces from that country, or had been expelled out of Pakistan, or worse, been captured or killed by the Pakistani intelligence services, the ISI. Right now, the CIA considered the ISI pretty much as a hostile intelligence service that too often supported unofficially the Taliban. Moore, having taken the head seat at the table, then started speaking in a sober tone.

‘’Ladies and gentlemen, I just received an operational tasking which came direct from the President. As some may have guessed already, it concerns CNN talk show host Anderson Cooper, who was kidnapped two days ago in Kandahar Province. The President wants us to do everything possible to find and liberate Cooper. I have already told Director Perkins that our network in Pakistan is now next to non-existent and that the ISI will probably actively work against us, but he told me that the President’s tasking stands. Thus, we will do our best regardless of difficulties. To resume quickly what happened two days ago, or at least what we know about it, Cooper, a CNN cameraman and a local translator were visiting the region of Spin Boldak, near the Pakistani border in Kandahar Province, with an escort of six Afghan policemen. Unfortunately, from what we could piece together afterwards, one of those policemen was in reality a Taliban mole, who led the group into a Taliban ambush and even shot some of his police colleagues when the ambush was sprung. The CNN cameraman and local translator we shot dead at that time, while the Taliban grabbed Cooper and disappeared, most probably passing clandestinely the Pakistani border afterwards. Then, late last night, Washington time, the Taliban released through Pakistani television a video showing Cooper, being held in an unidentified location in Pakistan. A Taliban spokesman whom we have since identified to be connected to the Quetta Shura of Mullah Omar claimed in that video recording that Cooper was being held as a spy of the United States and would be judged as such by the Taliban leadership. Thus, we can fairly safely bet that Cooper is being held in or near Quetta, in the province of Baluchistan. That is however a large piece of very rugged estate with a population of around one million persons, most of whom are of Pashto ethnicity. Two drones were directed by Central Command into Pakistani airspace yesterday in attempts to obtain fresh sensor coverage of a number of suspect locations in and around Quetta which had been connected in the past with the Quetta Shura. Unfortunately, the Pakistani Air Force detected those two drones and sent fighter aircraft which then shot down our drones.’’

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Dean Price felt some frustration on hearing that. As valuable as drones could be over uncontested airspace, too many amateur strategists and techno-warriors tended to forget that remotely-controlled drones flying at low subsonic speeds could not survive long in an airspace properly defended by an effective air defense network which included both surface-to-air missiles and fighter aircraft. At least in that respect, the protracted wars in Iraq and Afghanistan had taught the wrong lessons to too many people about the proper place of drones in the American military arsenal. In the case of Pakistan, which had lived through multiple wars with India and watched diligently its eastern borders and airspace against possible Indian incursions, the Pakistani Air Force was a factor that could be ignored only at one’s peril. A female analyst then raised a hand to ask a question.

‘’Then, what can Director Perkins really expect us to do, sir? We in fact have exactly zero assets left on the ground in the area of Quetta. The rare informers and agents left to us in other parts of Pakistan are being actively hunted down by the ISI, while any Caucasian agent we would infiltrate in the Quetta region would stand out like the nose in the middle of the face. Notwithstanding all the respect I have for our action agents, sending any of them there sounds to me like a suicide mission.’’ Dean, like Erik Johnson, didn’t get irritated at that remark, instead nodding their heads somberly: the analyst was unfortunately right. Only ethnic Pakistani agents could reasonably hope to travel to Quetta without attracting immediate and unhealthy attention. Unfortunately, the CIA was presently lacking in such agents.

‘’As much as I hate to say this,’’ said Erik Johnson, who was the most senior action agent present in Langley, ‘’Johanna is right, sir. With the Pakistani government effectively, if not officially, working against us in concert with the Taliban, we simply lack the assets to mount a quick operation in Quetta. As for launching a military special operation similar to the one that killed Osama Bin Laden in 2012, we would need a lot more intelligence than what we have right now. Besides, such an operation would take time to prepare and launch, by which Cooper will probably be dead already. This leaves only one possibility in my mind: to parachute a couple of agents from high altitude at night over Quetta and then hope that those agents could survive long enough to find Cooper and then call in a massive air support package to extract them. That, however, would have severe diplomatic and political consequences, even if the operation succeeded. Is the President ready to assume such consequences?’’

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‘’But, those two agents would have next to no chance of survival.’’ Objected the female analyst, looking at Johnson with shock and concern. Erik nodded his head once.

‘’True, Johanna. Personally, I would rate my chances to come out of such a mission at less than twenty percent. However, we have a tasking from the President and we have to try something.’’

John Moore stared for a moment at his senior action agent, his face impassive. In reality, his stomach was souring up at the mere idea of sending such a prize agent and other action agents in such a hopeless trap. Contrary to some of his predecessors, Moore was not the type to send agents to their deaths on meaningless or suicide missions. Another analyst in the room, a geeky type slim young man, suddenly seemed to think about something, straightening up in his chair. Moore gave him a sharp look: while his appearance was quite unimpressive, Ian Dorset was a true genius when it came to data research and analysis, and had often been paired with Johnson and Price as their supporting mission analyst. Dorset also held the highest security clearances available at the CIA and had access to many secrets which were unknown to other, more senior CIA analysts.

‘’You have something in mind, Mister Dorset?’’

‘’Uh, maybe, sir. However, I would need to leave this room for a moment, time to go check something on my computer.’’

Moore nodded at once in understanding: the conference room had no internet or computer network connection, for obvious security reasons.

‘’Go ahead, Mister Dorset. In the meantime, we will review what we know about Quetta and the Taliban Shura, in case we effectively send action agents in.’’

‘’Thank you, sir. I shouldn’t be long.’’

Dorset was actually back in the conference room after less than fifteen minutes. Moore noticed at once the concern visible on his face as he sat back at the table.

‘’Do you have something for us, Mister Dorset?’’

‘’Uh, you could say that, sir. Miss Laplante, the celebrated war correspondent who works part-time for CNN, left Montreal yesterday to go to Dubai via New York. She left Dubai last night, Washington time, on a Pakistan International Airlines plane headed for Quetta. Right now, Miss Laplante is thus in Quetta, if she is not dead already.’’ Johanna the analyst nearly jumped into her seat on hearing that. For one thing, she was not in the know about Nancy’s secret life as a time traveler.

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‘’WHAT? CRAZY NANCY WENT TO QUETTA? But the Taliban have placed a death fatwa on her head years ago. As a tall Caucasian woman travelling alone, she will stand out even more than one of our male agents in Quetta. She must be suicidal!’’

‘’Maybe, maybe not.’’ replied calmly Erik Johnson. ‘’Maybe she is actually planning to get captured, so that she would then be brought to the same location where Cooper is being held. Then, she could unleash hell on the Taliban from the inside. It’s a risky plan, but it has the merit of being simple and it actually has a chance to succeed, especially if the Taliban make the mistake of underestimating her.’’

‘’A risky plan, Mister Johnson?’’ said Johanna, obviously troubled. ‘’I know that Laplante can be a very dangerous woman when she wants to, but to escape the Taliban once captured? That’s if they don’t torture her to death right away to make an example out of her. Now we may have two CNN celebrities in trouble in Pakistan instead of one. That’s great!’’

‘’If that’s the case, then let’s at least use that as much as we can.’’ cut in Moore in a resolute tone. ‘’I want Nancy Laplante’s name to be inputted into our ECHELON listening program, in connection with the words ‘Taliban’, ‘Shura’, ‘Quetta’ and ‘Pakistan’. Hopefully, if some Taliban or Pakistani official sees her and signals her presence, we will then be able to locate where Cooper is being held. In the meantime, let’s be ready to send in a raid package in case we obtain that location. Hopefully, the President will then authorize such a raid.’’

20:29 (Pakistan Time) / 10:29 (Washington Time)

Boarding house, western suburbs of Quetta

Pakistan

Parmat Singh Rajat was a bearded man of medium height but of solid built and, as someone originally from Srinagar, in Kashmir, his physical type blended easily with others around Quetta. He however was presently wearing a Muslim turban and baggy pants and tunic more typical of Pakistani men’s outfit as he watched with other clients of the boarding house the news on the old television set of the communal lounge. Except for an old couple of travelers, all the other customers of the boarding house in which Parmat had taken a room this early afternoon were unaccompanied men, mostly merchants on business trips or men visiting relatives in Quetta. Parmat himself, traveling under the assumed name of Khalid Zulfikar, was officially on a business trip,

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looking to replenish his stocks of merchandise with contraband goods coming from nearby Afghanistan. Right now, the news on the Pakistani official news channel had everyone’s attention in the lounge, with the newsman repeating the news that the famous CNN war correspondent, Nancy Laplante, had arrived today at the Quetta airport, coming from Dubai, only to then disappear from the airport. The newsman then reminded his viewers of the religious death edict put on Laplante’s head by the Taliban, making one of the customers in the lounge chuckle.

‘’These idiots at the airport managed to lose track of a tall woman infidel traveling alone? They are even more incompetent than I thought.’’

‘’Or she bought them.’’ suggested another customer, making many heads nod around him. ‘’With CNN to support her, she must have a lot of money with her.’’

‘’A distinct possibility. Maybe Mullah Omar should call for some heads to roll among airport officials, for letting such an enemy of the Taliban escape so easily.’’

‘’I wonder if that Laplante came here to try to find that CNN person captured by the Taliban, Anderson Cooper if I remember well his name.’’ said Parmat, aka Khalid Zulfikar. That got him a few questioning looks from around him.

‘’You think that this woman would be crazy enough to try that, friend?’’ asked the oldest customer present.

‘’Why else would she come here? Normally, this should be the very last place in the World where she would come, and she does work for CNN. With a CNN man in Taliban hands, that would be the only possible reason I can see for her to come here.’’

‘’You very well may be right, friend. I suppose that the Taliban Shura leadership must have had the same thought than you.’’

‘’Well, if they didn’t, then maybe they should pray to get some more brains.’’ Replied Parmat caustically, making many in the lounge laugh briefly. ‘’Have they offered any kind of money reward for her capture or death?’’

‘’Nobody said anything about that yet.’’ answered a young male customer. ‘’Maybe that would be the best way to find that woman. If not, that devil incarnate could well seduce some in Quetta with either money or her body into helping her. There are still way too many weak believers around town to my taste.’’

‘’Hmm, with her known physical appearance, she would indeed be able to seduce many weak men.’’ said the old customer. ‘’My nephew Saleem could certainly fall for her big chest.’’

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There was more collective laugh at that remark, followed by a string of rather vulgar jokes about the power of infidel women to pervert believers. Those jokes however didn’t appear to be to the taste of the young man who had answered Parmat. Wearing a black turban and with an AK-47 assault rifle at his side, he was more than probably a Taliban fighter, something his next words confirmed to others.

‘’My faith will be stronger than all her temptations. I came from Bellpat in response to the Shura’s request for extra volunteers to reinforce its security in Quetta. If that female devil shows up, I will slay her.’’

‘’What if the Shura wished to capture her alive, to parade her beside that Anderson Cooper and judge them together?’’ suggested Parmat in an informal manner.

‘’Then, God willing, I will be among the firsts to see her die.’’ The young Taliban then didn’t say more, maybe realizing that he had said too much. Nobody dared ask him more questions afterwards, probably fearing of being accused of being spies or informers for the Americans. Parmat certainly didn’t push further on that subject, as his goal was to be as unobtrusive as possible. The young Taliban’s words had however just given him some precious information.

A bit over one hour later, most of the customers of the boarding house started to retire to their individual, minuscule rooms, to go sleep, since there was very little to do at night in Quetta apart from conversing with others with cups of tea in one’s hand. Parmat went to his own room at about eleven and made a show of going to sleep until the house became utterly quiet. At a bit past midnight, he opened his eyes in the dark and got quietly up, then went with the silence of a cat to the room used by the young Taliban, finding the latter sound asleep. Very quietly kneeling besides the Taliban, Parmat then started cautiously a telepathic introspection of the young man’s mind, basically inducing him to dream about why he came to Quetta. He explored the Taliban’s souvenirs for a good twenty minutes, recording mentally names, faces and locations, before suddenly grabbing the young man’s head and violently twisting it. The neck broke clean at once, killing the Taliban instantly with little noise. Parmat then quietly searched the dead man, finding a set of Pakistani identity papers, a knife and some money. Next, he packed up the dead man’s possessions, which were rather meager, and shouldered the pack before picking up the body in his arms and getting to his feet. Both disappeared in a brief flash of light from the little room, with Parmat reappearing two minutes later, without the Taliban’s body. Picking up the Taliban’s turban, rifle and ammunition belt, Parmat

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returned to his own cubicle and stuffed the rifle, with its stock folded, inside his own pack, along with the ammunition belt. As she silently walked out of her room, the dead Taliban’s turban on Parmat’s head, Nancy thanked the fact that her most recent past incarnation had been that of Parmat Singh Rajat, a Sikh merchant who had died in 1919, killed with his family by bandits during a pilgrimage trip to Srinagar. Along with the fake Pakistani identity card produced for her by the Time Patrol while she was under the physical form of Parmat, she could easily pass for a native Pakistani man, something that the Taliban certainly didn’t expect or couldn’t even imagine. In fact, if she wanted to, she could become, with the help of the extra powers given to her by her ring of Queen of Jerusalem, any of her past incarnations, including Karl Beck the German mercenary chieftain or Joan of Arc.

Leaving the boarding house discreetly, Nancy, or rather Parmat, went to a dark corner to take the AK-47 rifle and ammunition belt out of her pack: if she was going to go around at night, better do it as a Taliban, to prevent any embarrassing question by policemen, soldiers or other Taliban fighters. With the AK-47 now shouldered by its sling, Nancy decided to cheat a bit more and went to phase shift, essentially creating a bubble of accelerated time around herself and disappearing from the sight of other persons: she now moved at a thousand times the normal speed. She literally zipped around Quetta in minutes, heading towards the Murdaar district of the town, named after one of four imposing hills surrounding Quetta. There she found a large walled compound near a local mosque, as it had been described by an envoy from Quetta to the young Taliban she had killed. If anything, it was rather easy to spot simply because of the heavy security around it. No less than six armed bearded men in black turbans guarded the main access gate, along with a parked pickup truck sporting a heavy machinegun. More armed men were visible in guard towers at each corner of the compound, while a large green Islamic flag floated above the three-story brick building sitting inside the compound, while a smaller annex building sat next to the brick building. A careful visual scan of the area while hidden in a dark corner showed to Nancy more armed men standing guard on the roofs of a number of houses surrounding the compound, which was itself situated right at the foot of the Murdaar Hill. For any conventional assault force, taking this compound would involve a tough fight that would inevitably attract quickly all kinds of reinforcements in either Taliban fighters or Pakistani soldiers. Nancy, either in or out of Parmat’s physical form, was however no conventional assault force.

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Before doing any more killing, though, she had to ascertain for sure if Anderson Cooper was in this compound or not.

00:50 (Pakistan Time)

Friday, February 19, 2016 ‘A’

Locked room, Taliban compound

Murdaar District, Quetta

Pakistan

Anderson Cooper was awakened by progressively stronger but gentle shakes. He then instinctively rolled himself into a protective ball before he could see clearly, expecting more blows from his normally brutal guards. Instead, he heard a soft female voice that he knew well.

‘’Don’t be afraid, Anderson: it’s me, Nancy.’’

The CNN talk show host looked up with incredulity at the dark silhouette bent over his sleeping mat, unable to believe his luck. A horrible thought then came to his mind.

‘’Nancy? Don’t tell me that they captured you as well?’’

‘’Hardly!’’ replied the turbaned shape above him, smiling and showing white teeth. ‘’I came to rescue you.’’

Sitting up on his mat, Anderson looked around the dark room, whose door was ajar. He however didn’t see anyone else.

‘’Don’t tell me that you came here alone, Nancy.’’

‘’Not exactly, Anderson. I had some discreet help to find you and get in here, but they had to disappear, in order to protect their own identities.’’

‘’Uh, I don’t understand. They had to disappear? You don’t have Navy SEALS with you?’’

‘’Anderson,’’ said Nancy in a patient tone, ‘’keep this strictly to yourself, but I also happen to work for the CIA from time to time. Covert agents found where you were held and then opened the way for me in this compound, but from now on we will have to go it mostly alone. Are you wounded anyway? Can you walk?’’

‘’My pride took most of the bruising, Nancy.’’ answered Anderson, slowly getting up. He still wore the same T-shirt and jeans which he was wearing when kidnapped inside Afghanistan. They were now grubby and worse for wear but still usable. He then quickly put on his hiking boots and laced them while Nancy went to the door to watch.

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Nancy however stopped him before he could walk out and showed him an old backpack at her feet.

‘’You are not leaving here like this, Anderson: you are too easy to spot as a foreigner. I have a few things with me to help disguise you.’’ She then took out of the backpack a turban, a beige Pakistani man’s robe and jacket, a pair of sunglasses, a wig of black hair and a false black beard. She took a few minutes to help him dress and put on the wig and false beard, ending up by giving him the kind of mouth inserts used in Hollywood to make your cheeks look fatter. Taking a step back, she eyed him from head to toe and smiled to him.

‘’That’s much better. Now, follow me closely and don’t say a word. I suppose that you don’t speak Urdu or Pashto?’’

‘’Not at all!’’

‘’Then let me do the talking…or the killing, depending on the circumstances.’’

His heart beating furiously, Anderson followed Nancy, who was also disguised like a Taliban and had an AK-47 rifle, out of his cell and into a corridor, nearly tripping on the bodies of two dead Taliban covered with blood. Both men had their throats cut wide open. Only his long experience of reporting from war zones stopped Anderson from letting out an exclamation. That was however only part of quite a scene of carnage which followed. Everywhere around the building and the compound, bloodied corpses lay still, all with throats cut or with hearts punctured. Anderson couldn’t help shiver at those sights: whoever had done that had been incredibly ruthless and efficient. Nancy saw his expression and smiled to him to reassure him.

‘’I suppose that you could say that spying is truly a cut-throat business. This way!’’

Surprisingly, she didn’t lead him immediately out of the building, instead bringing him to a large bedroom where a dead man lay in bed, covered with blood. The dead also wore an eye patch. Nancy gave the corpse a hateful look.

‘’This is Mullah Mohammed Omar, the spiritual leader of the Taliban. That old bastard finally paid for his crimes.’’

‘’My God! This alone would rate as a great coup, Nancy.’’

‘’Well, don’t forget that outing a CIA field agent is a federal offense, Anderson, so I will ask you again to say as little as possible about this mission once back in the United States. I however agree that we should announce publicly Omar’s death, something that

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should seriously shake the Taliban’s morale. We will now go grab one of the vehicles parked in the compound, before starting to drive towards Chaman and the Afghan border.’’

‘’The Afghan border? But, why not instead fly directly out of here? Quetta has an international airport, no?’’

Nancy gave him a no-nonsense look.

‘’Anderson, understand that we must from now on consider Pakistani authorities and officials as possibly hostile to us. If they catch us, there are no assurances that they won’t hand us back to the Taliban. As for driving all the way South to the coast and Karachi, there are simply too many checkpoints along the way: we would be stopped and caught well before getting to Karachi. At least, in Afghanistan we could get to Kabul and take refuge there at one of the western embassies until an American plane could pick us up. I suppose that you don’t have your passport anymore?’’

‘’That’s right, Nancy. However, I should be recognized easily in most places, once out of this disguise.’’

‘’Same for me. I suppose that it could be both a bore and a help to be famous…or infamous. Anyway, enough talking! Let’s go down to the compound.’’

They encountered yet more dead bodies on the way down to the ground floor, plus two more behind a row of four small pickup trucks parked inside the compound. Nancy checked their fuel tank levels first, finally selecting the truck with the most gasoline left in it. She put as well in the back of that truck four jerry-cans of fuel taken from the other vehicles. On a second thought, she went back to one of the dead Taliban and took a pistol from his belt, along with two spare magazines. She then returned to Anderson and gave him the pistol and magazines.

‘’Here, in case we have to shoot our way out. Get in! I will drive.’’ Anderson, the pistol in one hand, sat in the cab of the truck and had one last look around the compound as Nancy took place behind the wheel. He must have counted over twenty dead Taliban since walking out of his cell. The engine of their truck then came to life, with Nancy speaking as she engaged gears.

‘’Remember, Anderson: let me do the talking. If anyone tries to speak to you, pretend that you are mute and take your cues from me. I will try anyway to avoid as much as possible road checkpoints.’’

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She then drove out of the compound and turned into the street outside, leaving behind a silent, dark place full of dead men.

Shortly after leaving the northern-most suburbs of Quetta, Nancy pulled over and stopped her pickup truck behind a closed and deserted roadside vending stall, shutting down the engine and killing the lights, alarming Anderson.

‘’Why are we stopping here, Nancy?’’

‘’I need to do a phone call. It shouldn’t be long.’’

Grabbing her backpack, Nancy took out of it a satellite telephone and switched it on, thinking for a short moment before punching in a number.

‘’Hum, we are ten hours ahead of Washington time, meaning that it is a bit past three in the afternoon over there. My contact should be in his office.’’ Watched anxiously by Anderson, Nancy then waited for an answer. Thankfully, a male voice answered after two rings.

‘’Moore speaking! Who is it?’’

‘’Sir, this is Nancy Laplante, calling from Quetta, Pakistan. Do you have a minute?’’

She could tell by some shuffling noise and by the fact that Moore temporarily covered his microphone that he was probably alerting his staff to listen on to the call. He however answered her quickly enough.

‘’Miss Laplante, are you alright?’’

‘’Perfectly alright, sir. I now have Anderson Cooper with me and we just drove out of Quetta. We however may need some counsels on how best to get home from here. I suspect that just showing at the Quetta Airport won’t do, while driving all the way to Karachi would be extremely risky and long. Right now, I am on my way to Chaman and the Afghan border, but I am not sure how the Pakistani border guards or even the Afghan ones will react to us.’’

‘’You are right about the Quetta Airport, Miss Laplante. Right now, the Pakistani authorities have refused all our requests for help to find Mister Cooper. They also fired at our drones. Unfortunately, the Afghan are proving only a little less problematic.’’ Nancy was actually not surprised to hear that: while Afghan officials were as corrupt as ever, more and more of them were also quietly dealing with the Taliban since the departure of NATO troops and trainers from Afghanistan three years ago. Afghan politicians also had been forced by circumstances to accommodate the Taliban in many

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ways. The whole picture in Afghanistan was a depressing one indeed to Nancy, who had done her part in the past to try to help the Afghans out of their problems. An idea then suddenly popped in her mind.

‘’Sir, when I arrived by air in Quetta yesterday, I saw there a civilian light helicopter parked a bit aside from the tarmac. It is of a model that has enough range to get to Kabul, or to India, if need be, and I happen to be qualified on light helicopters and private planes. Would you be able to find out quickly if it is still parked at the airport?’’

‘’I certainly can give that question a top priority, miss. In the meantime, I would counsel that you stay out of sight until I can call you back.’’

‘’I can wait for maybe one hour, sir, but more than that would cost me too much precious time. Here is my number…’’

Moore took note of her satellite telephone number, then hung up after promising to get her a quick answer. Putting down her satellite telephone, Nancy gave a comforting smile to Anderson Cooper.

‘’Well, we will wait here a bit, hoping that we soon get some positive information on how to get out of Pakistan. Are you hungry?’’

Anderson nodded wearily.

‘’Those bastards didn’t feed me since my capture. I guess that they were figuring that they didn’t need to, since they were about to execute me anyway.’’ Nancy gave him a pained looked, then searched inside her backpack, taking out a bottle of water and a small bag of beef jerky sticks and giving them to Anderson.

‘’Here! Don’t worry about eating all the jerky sticks: I have more in there.’’

‘’Thanks! You are a good friend indeed…and an incredible woman.’’ Nancy smiled at that but let Anderson eat in peace, as he was obviously famished. The irony was that they could have both returned to the United States quickly and safely, but the price of that would have been for her to divulge to Cooper that she was a time traveler, something she just could not do.

Her satellite telephone rang maybe forty minutes later. Grabbing it quickly, Nancy answered it, to hear the voice of Deputy Director Moore.

‘’Miss Laplante, I have some good news and also some bad news. That helicopter, a Bell Jet Ranger of the Askari Aviation company, is still at the Quetta Airport and was supposedly fueled up in advance yesterday for a charter trip this morning. That’s the good news. The bad news is that we got confirmation that the Afghan Border

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Police unit in Spin Boldak is in league with the Taliban, and so are the Pakistani border policemen in Chaman. Showing up there would be suicidal for you.’’

‘’I see!’’ said drily Nancy. ‘’By the way, I do have a piece of news for you: Mullah Omar is dead, his throat cut open. I guess that means that letting myself be captured alive is not an option for me. Then, I will make my way to the Quetta Airport. Could I at the least expect a warm reception in Kabul, or will I get the cold shoulder from the Afghans, sir?’’

‘’Kabul should be safe, Miss Laplante. I will alert our embassy there so that they could be ready for you and Mister Cooper. I will also alert the Defense Department. Call me back once you are in the air.’’

‘’I will, sir.’’

As she closed the connection, Anderson gave her a questioning look.

‘’So?’’

‘’So? We go steal a helicopter at the Quetta Airport and fly to Kabul. Simple, indeed!’’

Anderson reflected on that for a moment, then eyed Nancy soberly.

‘’Nancy, whatever happens, I will owe you. You must be the bravest woman I ever met, and also one I admire for many more reasons.’’

‘’And you are the kind of man worth saving at all cost, Anderson.’’ replied Nancy, equally serious. ‘’The only thing that I would like back from you would be for you to attend the Oscars ceremony in Hollywood, on the 26th. With luck, I may just win an Oscar that night and having you there then would truly please me.’’

‘’Consider that a deal, Nancy.’’ said softly Anderson, smiling to her. She smiled back, then started the engine of their pickup truck and drove off, taking the direction of the Quetta Airport.

16:57 (Washington Time) / 02:57 (Pakistan Time)

Thursday, February 18 (Washington) / Friday, February 19 (Pakistan) Office of the Deputy Director for Operations

CIA headquarters, Langley

John Moore was reading an analysis report on the command structure of the Taliban when his telephone rang. Looking at the caller identification display, he saw that

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it was an internal call coming from Ian Dorset, one of his best analysts. He thus put his telephone on intercom mode and spoke up.

‘’Yes, Mister Dorset?’’

The urgency in Dorset’s voice alarmed at once Moore.

‘’Sir, I just got a report from our ECHELON system on a call made in Quetta, naming Nancy Laplante. The call came from the known cell phone of our lone informant left in Quetta, the one we asked a bit over one hour ago to check on that helicopter parked at the Quetta Airport. In turn, that call was made to the cell phone number of a known Pakistani ISI officer in Quetta, and this after we contacted our informant. Sir, that bastard is a double agent working for the Pakistani intelligence services!’’ Moore couldn’t help letting out a pungent swear on hearing that. Containing with difficulty his anger and worry, he spoke urgently in his intercom.

‘’Mister Dorset, pass that information to Erik Johnson and Dean Price and tell them to come at once to my office. You come as well.’’

‘’And Miss Laplante, sir? She is going to fall into a Pakistani trap.’’

‘’I realize that too well, Mister Dorset. I will now try to warn her, if it is still not too late for that.’’

Closing that line and then composing the satellite telephone number of Nancy Laplante, Moore then waited with growing dread as the connection was made and the phone started ringing at the other end.

02:58 (Pakistan Time)

Askari Aviation Bell Jet Ranger helicopter

Tarmac of Quetta Airport, Pakistan

Nancy had just sat on the pilot’s seat of the Bell Jet Ranger helicopter she intended to use and was reviewing quickly the instrument panel, with Anderson Cooper sitting beside her and watching her anxiously, when her satellite telephone rang. Swearing briefly at getting a call at such a time, she pushed its ‘talk’ button while bringing the set to her right ear.

‘’Nancy speaking!’’

‘’Nancy, this is Moore. Stay away from that helicopter at the Quetta Airport: it’s a trap!’’

‘’SHIT! Me and Anderson are already sitting in it and we were about to start it.’’

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‘’Then get out of there, NOW!’’

A warning from Anderson Cooper then made her raise her head to look outside.

‘’Nancy, there are men running to our helicopter!’’

‘’It’s too late, sir!’’ Said Nancy urgently in her telephone. ‘’I will now destroy my phone’s memory chip. Wish us luck!’’

Before Anderson could ask what was happening, Nancy ripped open the access panel at the back of her telephone set, exposing its circuits. Grabbing the pistol Anderson had put down beside his seat, Nancy used it as a hammer, smashing with repeated, furious blows the telephone’s circuits. She was barely finishing her sabotage work when the pilot’s door was thrown open and the muzzles of two rifles were pointed at her head.

‘’DROP THAT PISTOL! HANDS UP!’’ Shouted a man in Urdu. With two more rifles being pointed at Anderson Cooper, Nancy had no other choice but obey. Rough hands then pulled her out of her seat, to then push her face first against the side of the helicopter. Someone then quickly patted her down, finding and taking her combat knife. She was then stripped of the ammunition belt she was wearing before being turned around, her hands still up. No less than six Pakistani soldiers were surrounding her on the dark tarmac, with their rifles pointed at her, while a seventh man in civilian clothes stood two paces behind the soldiers. Three more soldiers then roughly led Anderson Cooper to her side of the helicopter, pushing him against the fuselage, one pace to her right. The civilian then spoke in good but accented English, sarcasm in his tone.

‘’Well well well, isn’t this the famous CNN war correspondent, Nancy Laplante, caught trying to steal a helicopter.’’

‘’I was simply trying to save my friend from being executed by the Taliban. If your government would not have been so busy helping out the Taliban, you could have saved him yourselves.’’ replied Nancy, not sounding intimidated one bit. The civilian man quickly stepped forward and punched her hard in the stomach, bending her in two. He then pulled her back up by her hair and nearly spat in her face.

‘’We are not the lackeys of the Americans, Miss Laplante.’’

‘’No, you’re just the lackeys of the Taliban and can’t even control your own country.’’ she shot back, earning a second punch in the stomach for that. The civilian man then gave an order in Urdu to the soldiers, who promptly grabbed Nancy and Anderson and tied their hands in their backs with ropes before pushing them towards the nearby airport terminal building. They however never entered the building, as a military truck rolled to them and stopped, time for the soldiers to throw their two prisoners in the

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back. With nine soldiers surrounding Nancy and Anderson in the back, their rifles pointed, the truck then drove out of the airport and towards the still sleeping city.

Being forced to stay face down on the cargo floor of the truck, Nancy could not see where they were being driven, but she already had a good idea about that. Maybe thirty minutes later, the truck entered a large walled compound and stopped in front of a big four-story building made of concrete blocks. When they were taken out of the back, Nancy was then able to see that the lower windows of the building had steel bars. Understanding with a sinking feeling that they were at a prison of some sort, Nancy let the soldiers push her inside with Anderson. The whole group then went down to a basement level, ending up in a large, mostly bare room made of concrete. Nancy and Anderson were then forcibly sat in two wooden chairs, to which they were promptly tied. The civilian who had punched Nancy at the airport, a big man with a beard and mean eyes, then looked at both of them.

‘’You will tell me what you were doing in Pakistan and who was helping you.’’

‘’As I told you before at the airport,’’ answered Nancy calmly, ‘’I came by regular air transport to Quetta to find and free my friend, Anderson Cooper, who was kidnapped three days ago in Afghanistan by the Taliban. He is only a victim in all this and didn’t even enter Pakistan willingly. You have no reasons to hold him.’’

‘’You may be right about him, Miss Laplante, but things are more complicated for you. For one thing, you were trying to steal a helicopter at the airport. Second, you were caught with two illegal weapons.’’

‘’Please, don’t make me laugh! Illegal weapons, in Pakistan? Your country is awash in weapons…and in terrorists. As for stealing that helicopter, your reactions at the airport proved to me that your government would not have let me take Anderson Cooper out of Pakistan, even though he was a kidnap victim about to be executed by the Taliban. Your superiors should be very careful about how they handle our case.’’ The civilian man, most probably an ISI officer, then stepped forward and delivered a resounding slap that made Nancy’s head snap around. He then looked down at her with hatred.

‘’My superiors know exactly how they want to handle you, Miss Laplante. Granted, Mister Cooper has probably nothing working against him in our eyes and we may just release him and let him leave Pakistan on the next flight to Dubai, but your case is quite different. For one, we do…’’

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A second, younger Pakistani man in civilian clothes suddenly burst in the room, cutting off Nancy’s interrogator and going to him before whispering excitedly in his ears. The interrogator’s face first reflected incredulity as he listened to the newcomer. Then, his expression darkened and he nearly shouted at Nancy.

‘’Mullah Omar and two dozen of his bodyguards and followers were just found murdered in a compound here in Quetta. All of them had their throat sliced or their heart pierced by a knife. You wouldn’t know something about that, would you?’’ As the soldiers present in the room exchanged looks of shock and disbelief, Nancy looked calmly back at her interrogator.

‘’Sure I do! I told you that I came to Quetta to find and then free my friend, Anderson Cooper. I did find him, being held in Mullah Omar’s compound, and then freed him.’’

‘’You will pretend that you could enter a compound guarded by over twenty armed men and then kill them all by yourself?’’

‘’What did the fatwa made against me by Mullah Omar say?’’ asked Nancy to the interrogator. ‘’That I was the Devil personified? What if I am?’’ More than one Pakistani soldier then took a step back in fear, while pointing their rifles at her. Her interrogator, himself shaken but unwilling to show it, quickly signaled them to lower their guns.

‘’HOLD YOUR FIRE! DON’T YOU SEE THAT SHE IS MOCKING US?’’ He then hit Nancy again on her left cheek, this time with his fist.

‘’You had accomplices with you, didn’t you? You couldn’t possibly kill all these men by yourself.’’

Nancy spat blood, then stared at him with utter contempt.

‘’Yes, I could! How? Because they were nothing more than poorly trained thugs able only to kill unarmed women and throw acid in the face of young girls. They deserved death ten times over and I can assure you that they didn’t end up in Paradise. Me and less than thirty other women killed over 400 of those cowardly bastards in one night in Afghanistan four years ago, so why would killing a mere twenty of them be at all difficult for me? Do you think that you would fare any better against me in any fair fight?’’

Now starting to seriously wonder if she was actually telling the truth, the interrogator gave a number of hurried orders in Urdu to the soldiers present, who all appeared tense and fearful.

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‘’Take the man upstairs, to the Colonel’s office. I will have to go discuss the fate of that woman infidel with Islamabad.’’

The ISI officer somehow felt better once the steel door of the interrogation room was slammed shut and its three bolts were pushed in place. He then looked at Anderson Cooper and tried to appear more assured than he really was.

‘’How many men helped her kill all these Taliban, mister?’’ Anderson didn’t miss the ‘mister’ in the interrogator’s question, a good sign that he was going to be treated more decently than Nancy.

‘’As she said, she was alone. I never saw anyone else but her. The Taliban were already all dead when she took me out of my cell. Now, you better remind your superiors in Islamabad of the possible consequences if you continue with this sinister farce. You do remember what happened to the Taliban in 2001, after they refused to stop sheltering Al Qaeda? You think that my government will look kindly on your government for blatantly supporting and protecting Taliban terrorists who kidnapped me and murdered my cameraman? Think twice before your next move, mister.’’ A spark of anger appeared in the interrogator’s eyes, but he controlled himself and simply gave an order to the two soldiers escorting Anderson.

‘’Bring him to the Colonel’s office! I am going with you.’’

As the trio escorted Anderson upstairs, the remaining soldiers and ISI man conversed excitedly together while going to the main guard room., commenting the words of Nancy. Their conversation however only served to spread their unease about Nancy to the other soldiers and guards of the prison. The news of Mullah Omar’s death at her hands also helped spread consternation among the Pakistanis.

Anderson Cooper ended waiting for more than one hour in the anteroom of the office of the ISI center’s commandant, a Colonel Hamahuddin, before being escorted in. He then found himself facing a small, swarthy man wearing a Pakistani Army uniform and sitting behind a big work desk. Nancy’s interrogator stood behind and to one side of the colonel, who looked coldly at Anderson.

‘’I reviewed your case with Major Kholkar, Mister Cooper, and I agree with him that we have no reasons to detain you further, since you didn’t commit any crime in Pakistan, nor in Afghanistan. You will thus be escorted to the airport, where you will be able to board the first plane to Dubai. I am sure that your company and government will then be able to repatriate you from there.’’

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‘’What about my friend, Nancy? She risked her life to find and save me from the Taliban.’’

Hamahuddin’s expression hardened at Nancy’s name and he nearly glared then at Anderson.

‘’Her case is a lot more complicated, Mister Cooper. For one thing, she killed a total of 26 men here in Quetta. Even if those men were Taliban extremists, she still doesn’t have the legal right to kill anyone here in Pakistan. She also was caught trying to steal a helicopter at the airport. Finally, we suspect her to be a foreign spy and to have contacts and accomplices here in Quetta. All that will have to be investigated before we can decide what to do with her. Right now, I can tell you that her prospects in avoiding a lengthy jail term here are quite dim.’’

‘’Not as dim as the reputation of your country will be after this, Colonel. Pray that my President will not decide that this blatant show of support for a terrorist group will be the last straw and then decide to put up sanctions against your country…or worse.’’ Hamahuddin caught at once on what Anderson alluded to by ‘or worse’. He however kept a brave façade and stared back at him.

‘’Miss Laplante will still have to face Pakistani justice, whether the United States likes it or not. Major Kholkar, have Mister Cooper escorted to the airport and make sure that he leaves for Dubai on the first available plane.’’

‘’Yes, Colonel!’’ replied the interrogator, who then made a sign to the two soldiers flanking Anderson. The latter was then walked out of the office and down to the main entrance, where he was stuffed inside a military jeep with Kholkar and two soldiers. The jeep then drove out of the prison’s compound, heading towards the airport. Anderson’s heart sank as he had a last look at the prison and thought about what was probably awaiting Nancy in there.

09:12 (Washington Time) / 19:12 (Pakistan Time)

Friday, February 19, 2016 ‘A’

Oval Office, The White House

Washington, D.C., U.S.A.

John Moore, following CIA Director James Perkins in the Oval Office, found the President already in conversation with John Kerry, her Secretary of State, and Susan Rice, her National Security Advisor. Moore frowned on seeing Kerry and Rice: while

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their presence was amply justified for this occasion, none of the two had been cleared to know about Nancy Laplante’s little secrets. He however kept his remarks to himself and politely shook hands with Kerry, Rice and Hillary Rodham Clinton before taking place in a sofa with Director Perkins. The President then nodded to Perkins, her expression sober.

‘’So, James, what can the CIA tell us about this rescue mission that turned sour in Pakistan? CNN is all up in arms about their star war reporter, Nancy Laplante, being detained and supposedly tortured by the Pakistanis after helping free Anderson Cooper in Quetta.’’

‘’Well, Madam President, the gist of it is that, after learning that Cooper had been kidnapped in Afghanistan, Laplante apparently took on her to leave Montreal and go to Quetta, Pakistan, where she expected Cooper to be detained. It seems that her hunch was spot on, as she apparently found in less than a day where Cooper was being detained inside Quetta. According to the testimony of Anderson Cooper himself when he was interviewed after arriving in Dubai, Nancy Laplante then infiltrated the Taliban compound where he was detained and killed by herself all the Taliban inside before breaking him free. They then went to the Quetta Airport, where they were hoping to fly out in a civilian helicopter, but they fell in a trap set by the Pakistani intelligence services, which had been alerted by a double agent we were not aware of. While Cooper was let go after a couple of hours, the ISI kept Laplante and, still according to Cooper, must now be busy torturing her to make her tell who in Quetta helped her. Mister Moore, my Deputy for Operations, has more details if you wish to hear them.’’

‘’I certainly wish so, James. Go ahead, Mister Moore. What else can you tell us?’’

‘’First, that it is evident from all the facts we have presently that the Pakistanis did nothing to help us find Cooper in the first place and that they even actively protected the Taliban involved in the kidnapping of Cooper, Madam President. Second, Anderson Cooper was being held in no less a place than the personal compound of Mullah Omar, the spiritual leader of the Taliban. By protecting Omar the way they did, the Pakistani did no less than aiding and abetting an enemy of the United States. One bright note in all this is that Mullah Omar is now dead, killed by Nancy Laplante, along with over twenty bodyguards and followers.’’

‘’That’s certainly good news!’’ said Susan Rice, smiling then. ‘’His death should deal quite a blow to Taliban morale.’’

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‘’Yes, but it could cost Miss Laplante dearly if we don’t get her out of Pakistan quickly.’’ said Moore. ‘’Imagine what the Taliban would do to her if the ISI handed her to those bastards. I suspect that Laplante is already enduring quite an ordeal at the hands of the Pakistanis as a payment for her good deed.’’

‘’You know,’’ said Hillary Rodham Clinton to nobody in particular, ‘’I have had about it with the hypocrisy of those Pakistanis. They have let both the Taliban and Al Qaeda take refuge in their country for far too long, apart from fomenting trouble in Afghanistan in order to prevent India from gaining influence there. Then I am told that they refused outright to let us inside Pakistan so that we could look for Cooper and even shot down two of our drones. With friends like them we certainly don’t need enemies. I am inclined to have the United States play hardball with them on this issue, to remind the Pakistanis that all acts ultimately have consequences. Mister Moore, can you vouch to me that Laplante was not in Pakistan at the behest of the CIA?’’

‘’She wasn’t, Madam President. She is a good friend and colleague of Anderson Cooper and decided on her own to go to Pakistan to try to save him. She contacted us by satellite telephone after breaking Cooper free, but only to ask for help in getting him out. You may remember that she was extensively debriefed by us following her trip to Iran in November of 2013, when she was allowed to visit the Iranian uranium enrichment plants. It seems that she had kept our telephone number after all.’’ Clinton understood at once the hidden meaning of his words, having been briefed then about Nancy and her special connections. John Kerry however seemed to be puzzled by something from early on and looked at Moore and Perkins.

‘’Look, I know about that woman’s reputation as a fighter and soldier, but how could she find Cooper so quickly by herself and how could she kill so many Taliban? She sounds nearly unreal.’’

Moore gave him a somber look.

‘’Mister Secretary, there is simply no one else like her. She is an extremely intelligent woman, an ex-military intelligence analyst and a complete athlete, apart from being the top karate fighter in the World. She probably would qualify on the Navy SEAL training course and has seen and gone through about all the war zones on this planet as a war correspondent. She also speaks and reads a godly number of languages. I believe that she guessed where Cooper was being held through simple but solid reasoning, basing herself on her extensive experience as a war correspondent. Once on the ground in Quetta, she possibly used previous local contacts to gather information

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and then scout various locations of interest to her. According to Cooper, she was heavily disguised when she broke him free and had even brought some items to disguise him as well. As for killing all those Taliban, I have no problem believing it. The average Taliban fighter is actually no more than an illiterate thug with a rifle. Her downfall was actually to call us, when we used an informant in Quetta to help her, not knowing that the bastard was a double agent for the Pakistani intelligence services.’’

‘’She certainly sounds too good to lose, Mister Moore.’’ said Clinton. ‘’Besides, we owe her big for freeing Anderson Cooper and for killing Mullah Omar. I also believe that it is more than time to put the Pakistanis in their place.’’ The President then pointed at John Kerry.

‘’John, I want you to recall our ambassador in Pakistan and then to call on the carpet the Pakistani ambassador. Give that man a good grilling and make him understand that there will be very serious consequences for Pakistan if Miss Laplante is not released very quickly. In particular, tell him that we will now be ready to treat them as a hostile nation, on the same footing as Iran and North Korea, if they don’t reform their ways and continue to protect the Taliban. Tell him also that any hint of threatening us with nuclear weapons in any way, including by threatening to give one to terrorists, will result in me branding them as ‘a clear and present danger’ to the United States. One last thing for you: please call our friends up North in Ottawa and remind them that it is a Canadian citizen being held and tortured in Pakistan. It would be nice of them to do more than just utter a few pious words for a change.’’

She then turned to face her National Security Advisor.

‘’Susan, I want you to get together with our military chiefs of staff and to study with them how we can militarily pressure Pakistan, including by cutting them off from any American supply of aircraft spares or weapons and ammunition. See what we could possibly do if the Pakistanis play stupid and need a more direct reminder to behave.’’ This said, the President looked at the three men and one woman around her.

‘’Hopefully, the Pakistanis will see the light and release Miss Laplante quickly. However, I am not ready to play around with them for long, as time is critical here. Make sure that the Pakistanis understand how pissed we are at them. I will on my part have a statement prepared, so that it could be given no later than this afternoon to the White House Press Corps. You may now go. Mister Moore, please stay a bit longer.’’ While surprised by that, neither Kerry nor Rice asked why Clinton wanted to speak in private with the CIA official.

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Once she was alone with Moore, with all doors closed, Hillary Clinton spoke to him in a low voice.

‘’Mister Moore, are we talking here about Nancy Laplante the war correspondent or Nancy Laplante the time traveler?’’

‘’In this case, I believe that she is acting purely as Nancy Laplante the war correspondent, Madam President. She may however have used some of her

paranormal powers to find Cooper, like her power of mind reading. Just that probably helped her immensely in her search. While I told you the truth when I said that she was not acting in the capacity of a CIA agent, she still possesses the fake CIA identity card and badge we gave her in 2013 to help her on her return from Iran. Hopefully, she didn’t bring that badge with her to Pakistan, but I don’t think that she would be that stupid, Madam President.’’

Hillary Clinton lowered her head then.

‘’So, she really acted on her own, out of friendship for Cooper. I really wish that I could meet her one day. Hopefully, we will be able to get her out quickly. What are the chances that her Time Patrol could intervene to save her?’’

‘’That is always a possibility, Madam President, but even if they react, it will probably be staged in such a way as to make it look like Laplante escaped by herself. As for an intervention by ‘The One’, the spiritual being that gave her powers, that is also possible but also totally unpredictable, Madam President.’’

‘’I understand. Do your best on your side to get her back intact, Mister Moore. You may even contact directly the Director of the ISI to put some sense in him.’’

‘’I may just do that, Madam President.’’ said Moore, who already had some pungent ideas on how to influence that ISI head. ‘’Do you have anything else for me, Madam President?’’

‘’No, Mister Moore, just keep me appraised about any development of importance in this case when it comes up. Thank you for coming.’’

‘’It was my pleasure, Madam President.’’ said Moore while getting up and shaking her hand. He then left the Oval Office and walked back to his official car, parked in the secure lot of the White House. His driver for this occasion was actually no other than Dean Price, with Erik Johnson acting as a personal bodyguard for this trip to Washington. Moore had however specific reasons to have brought his two best action

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agents with him today. The moment he was in the back, with the door closed, he spoke up to them.

‘’The President has decided to play hardball with the Pakistanis in order to get back Laplante and to put them back in their proper place. We will recall our ambassador in Pakistan, while the Pakistani ambassador to Washington will be called on the carpet and given a good grilling. The Joint Chiefs of Staff will also be asked to prepare contingency plans in case the Pakistanis become real stupid. On the CIA part, I promised to do all I could to get Laplante back. I would like you two to start devising a plan to quickly break Laplante out of prison in Quetta if that becomes necessary. Once that is done, then find that bastard of an informer who doubled-crossed us and terminate him with extreme prejudice as soon as practical.’’

20:40 (Pakistan Time) / 10:40 (Washington Time)

ISI center, Quetta

Pakistan

Nancy clenched her teeth hard in order not to scream as electricity flowed through her body via the electrodes clipped to her nipples, clitoris and vagina. She could not however stop her naked body, suspended by her wrists from the ceiling, from convulsing as four ISI men looked on. The man who had been turning the handle of the dynamo to which the electrodes were plugged then stopped for a moment, to let Major Khorkar approach her and ask a question.

‘’SO, WILL YOU SPEAK AT LAST? WHO HELPED YOU IN QUETTA? HOW MANY AMERICAN AGENTS ARE THERE HERE?’’

Her whole body glistening with sweat and also covered with bruises from whippings with steel cables, Nancy swallowed hard and stared into the eyes of her interrogator.

‘’What’s the matter? Your man at the dynamo is already getting tired?’’ Khorkar, enraged by her defiance, looked at one of his men standing behind Nancy.

‘’Soltam, add another weight, then whip her chest more!’’ With a mean smile on his face, the said Soltam went to get a heavy steel weight as used in weight-lifting exercise machines and, approaching Nancy from behind, dropped it in the bucket attached to her feet. The bucket already contained a good hundred kilos worth of weights and the additional weight only stretched more Nancy’s body, making her grunt with pain. Soltam then grabbed a long steel wire made of four twisted strands

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and started flogging vigorously Nancy’s breasts and belly with it. On a sign from Khorkar, the man at the dynamo resumed his cranking as well as Nancy was being flogged. After four minutes of that treatment Nancy passed out, but without ever pushing a scream, to Khorkar’s utter frustration.

‘’By the Devil, she must be the toughest woman I ever saw! Well, we should maybe call it a night, or else we could kill her too soon. That would be a pity indeed, as I am enjoying making this infidel pay. Take her down and throw her in a punishment cell. No need to put clothes back on her: we will get back at it in the early morning with her.’’

‘’How about having some fun with her?’’ proposed one of Khorkar’s men, making him shake his head.

‘’Not yet! She is still strong and could be dangerous. Later, when she is truly spent and weak.’’

The disappointed soldier obeyed him, but still used the occasion to fondle Nancy’s naked breasts as he was taking her down with the help of another soldier. The other man smiled and imitated him, seeing that Khorkar was already out of the interrogation room with the third soldier, then slipped his hand between her legs.

‘’It is a true shame not to use her: she has quite a body.’’

Soltam bit his lip, then took a decision.

‘’Put her down and undo the chains holding her feet together, Nazir. We will use this chance to take her.’’

Rendered nearly crazy with lust by Nancy’s nakedness, Nazir did quickly as Soltam had said, then spread Nancy’s legs open.

‘’Hold her wrists while I do her, Soltam.’’

Kneeling between the opened legs of Nancy, who lay on her back, and with Soltam kneeling near her head to hold down her still tied wrists, Nazir started undoing his belt and trousers. Nancy suddenly came back to life in a flash, with her legs bending and rising to close around Nazir’s neck and form a scissor to strangle him, while her hands grabbed Soltam’s testicles through his trousers and crushed them with savage strength. Soltam’s passed out nearly at once from the atrocious pain, while it took a bit longer to Nancy to kill Nazir by strangling him with her legs. Letting go her holds, Nancy got up quickly and killed her two interrogators by twisting and breaking their necks. Only then did she allow her brain to acknowledge the continuous waves of pain coming from all over her body, shivering and moaning to herself for a short moment. Nancy however knew that she had little time: another soldier could come at any time to check what her

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two interrogators were doing. Concentrating, she healed herself partly in seconds, healing the internal burns from electricity but leaving her surface wounds intact. Those wounds would continue to make her suffer for days, but she wanted to be able to show later to the World what methods the ISI used on its prisoners. Next, she went to the small table were her clothes lay and put them back on slowly, her torso, breasts, buttocks and legs being very sensitive from the bruises caused by flogging. She was not surprised to find out that the cash money in her wallet had disappeared, but at least she still had her credit card and her passport, plus her home keys. Thinking about something, she went to the dead interrogators and searched them. She actually found some of her American money on them and took it back, along with what they had in Pakistani rupees. As for the rest of her money, she pretty well could guess who had it now.

Passing into phase shift, she walked out of the interrogation room and went upstairs, looking for one man in particular. It took her a good ten minutes of her bubble time, or less than one second of normal time, before she found that man. Major Khorkar was actually sitting in his office, writing what appeared to be Nancy’s interrogation report. He never had the time to react to the noise of his office door opening and closing in a micro-second before Nancy appeared in his back. The moment Khorkar turned around in his swivel chair after sensing a presence behind him, Nancy grabbed him by the throat with monstrous strength, making it impossible for him to scream or speak while being strangled. Her eyes reflected cold hatred as she stared down at the terrorized man.

‘’You are done torturing and abusing prisoners, Major Khorkar. Welcome to Hell!’’

Her right hand then pressed even stronger, crushing the vertebras in his neck and killing him. She held his body in place on the chair while she searched him. She eventually found the rest of her American money in his wallet and took it back, then let the body drop down on top of the desk. The next thing Nancy did was to go to the window of the office and open it. Contrary to the windows of the two first floors, this one wasn’t protected by steel bars. Looking in the direction of the airport to the Southwest, she evaluated quickly the distance and effected a short space-time jump, reappearing near the airport while floating in the night sky. Thankfully, the helicopter she had earlier tried to steal was still parked at the airport. In fact, a fuel truck was finishing right now to refuel it. Floating down to an area of the tarmac that was not illuminated, Nancy hid

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behind a rusting steel container left near the perimeter fence of the airport and waited for the fuel truck to roll away. Once she was certain that nobody was near the helicopter, she switched again to phase shift, returning to normal time once she was in the pilot’s seat of the helicopter. Praying that the Bell Jet Ranger had been well maintained, Nancy turned the master switch, then pushed the starter button. To her immense relief, the turbo-shaft engine of the helicopter started whining at once, soon gaining in turbine revolutions per minute as the engine powered up. An anxious look out through the canopy told her that nobody seemed to have reacted yet to the unexpected powering up of the helicopter. That however wouldn’t last long. Consulting quickly the air chart left in the cockpit as the engine went up to operating temperature and revolution, Nancy calculated the most direct route to Kabul, which lay 460 kilometers north of Quetta. She then switched on the UHF radio of the helicopter and tuned it to the frequency of the Kabul Airport. Her helicopter lifted off from the tarmac and disappeared in the night sky a minute later, its navigation lights kept off, as the first airport employees were starting to come out to investigate this unscheduled departure.

19:33 (Washington Time) / 02:33 (Pakistan Time)

Friday, February 19 (Washington) / Saturday, February 20 (Pakistan) Office of the Deputy Director for Operations

CIA headquarters, Langley

Virginia, U.S.A.

John Moore was munching with little enthusiasm on a sandwich as he did some late work in his office, trying to thin down the pile of files and memos in his ‘in’ basket, when his telephone rang. Hoping that this was fresh news about Nancy Laplante, he quickly grabbed the handset to answer the call.

‘’Moore speaking!’’

‘’Sir, this is Floyd, at the communications center. We just received an encrypted message from our chief of station in Kabul. He says that Nancy Laplante landed at the Kabul Airport two hours ago in a helicopter she stole in Quetta. She was reportedly severely tortured by the Pakistani ISI but her life is not in danger. The chief of station has arranged for her to be flown out in an Air Force C-17 cargo plane in the morning, in about five hours. That C-17 will then stage through our base in Ramstein, Germany, before continuing on to the United States. It should arrive at Dover Air Force Base at

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around one thirty tomorrow afternoon. Should we make arrangements to pick her up there, sir?’’

‘’Yes!’’ answered at once Moore, overjoyed. ‘’Send a helicopter to wait for her in Dover and have agents Johnson and Price go with it, to provide an escort to Laplante. I will confirm with you later where she is to be brought from Dover. Has Director Perkins been advised of this?’’

‘’Not yet, sir.’’

‘’Then, let me do that. Thanks for the call!’’

Terminating that call, Moore then called his boss to pass the news and obtain permission to advise the President. When he called the White House next, he was able to get President Clinton on the line quickly, as she apparently was still at work in the Oval Office. The news of Laplante being safe and on her way to the United States obviously pleased her, but she had one directive for Moore.

‘’Mister Moore, I would like that your helicopter brings Miss Laplante directly to the White House once she is picked up in Dover Air Force Base. I am long overdue in having a private conversation with her.’’

‘’Madam President, with all due respect, if you are planning to ask her to work formally for us, I can assure you that it will be a non-starter with Laplante. She has her own agenda, and a pretty inflexible one at that.’’

‘’I understand that, Mister Moore, but I want to see her for other reasons. Can you vouch to me that she will not represent a threat to me if I see her in private, without Secret Service agents around? I do understand how, uh, sensitive her secret is.’’

‘’Madam President,’’ replied Moore without hesitation, ‘’even with Secret Service agents surrounding her, she could still vaporize you and the whole White House without a sweat. However, she would never do that, or even raise a finger against you. She may be a very efficient killing machine when needed, but she is also the ultimate goodie-two-shoes at heart. The worst you could expect from her is for her to refuse to answer your questions.’’

‘’I understand. I still want to see her in private, though. In the meantime, keep the news of her escape from Pakistan secret until I can meet her.’’

‘’It will be done, Madam President. If all goes according to schedule, her helicopter should land in front of the White House at around two thirty tomorrow afternoon. Two of my best agents will be escorting her.’’

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‘’Excellent! I will be expecting her then. Thank you for having informed me, Mister Moore.’’

‘’It was my pleasure, Madam President.’’

As he hung up his handset, Moore started to worry about what exactly President Clinton wanted to talk about with Laplante. In the CIA business, the less said was often the better.

14:36 (Washington Time)

Saturday, February 20, 2016 ‘A’

White House lawn

Washington, D.C.

A lieutenant of the Marine Corps in dress blues uniform and white gloves saluted Nancy as she slowly stepped out of the CIA helicopter that had brought her from Dover Air Force Base, careful not to brush hard her still painful bruises. He then looked at Erik Johnson and Dean Price, who were ready to follow her out.

‘’Excuse me, sirs, but your presence will not be required with Miss Laplante while she is in the White House: directive from the President. The Secret Service will escort her to Langley tomorrow morning.’’

Erik Johnson was tempted to object to that, but a directive from the President was for him an order.

‘’Very well, Lieutenant. Be aware though that this woman has many enemies: be on your guard.’’

‘’The White House Marine Detail is always on its guard, sir. Thank you for the warning anyway.’’

On her part, Nancy took the time to shake hands with both Dean and Erik, giving them a genuine smile.

‘’Thanks for escorting me, guys. I will see you at Langley tomorrow, during my debrief.’’

The Marine lieutenant then closed the passenger door of the helicopter and started guiding Nancy towards the West Wing of the White House. Erik watched Nancy, walking slowly and laboriously towards the White House as his helicopter started lifting off.

‘’You know, Dean, there is definitely something to like in this woman after all. For her, friends do indeed count.’’

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‘’Indeed, Erik. She may be too sentimental for her own good at times, but her word is as good as gold. Besides, she’s got really nice tits.’’

Three Secret Service agents were waiting for Nancy at the door to the Oval Office. When one of them got close to her with his hands forward to pat her down for weapons, she grabbed at once his wrists to stop him, prompting the two other agents to go for their pistols. She ignored the other two agents and stared down at the one wanting to search her.

‘’No patting down, please! I was recently tortured and my body is covered with sensitive bruises. You can do a visual check, though.’’

Then, taking the agents by surprise, she undid her belt and her jeans and pulled them down, then pulled up her T-shirt, ending up in her underwear in front of the agents. The Marine lieutenant who had escorted her from the lawn eyed with horror and disgust the marks left by the flogging she had received, while the Secret Service senior agent nodded grimly after a few seconds.

‘’I’m sorry for that, miss, but we needed to ensure that you were not armed. The Pakistani intelligence did that to you?’’

‘’Yes, and those who hurt me are now dead.’’ said Nancy while pulling back up her jeans. Once she was dressed, the senior agent opened the door to the Oval Office and stepped aside.

‘’The President will receive you now, Miss Laplante.’’

‘’Thank you!’’

Nancy found Hillary Rodham Clinton standing in the middle of the Oval Office, waiting for her. The President eyed with sorrow her swollen face and split lips, along with the whip marks visible on her arms, as Nancy walked slowly towards her. She then shook hands with her.

‘’Welcome to the White House, Miss Laplante. Do you feel up to a short conversation now or would you like to receive some medical attention first? The White House doctor is on standby to examine and treat you.’’

‘’The doctor can wait a bit, Madam President. Thank you for giving me the honor of meeting you.’’

‘’The honor is mine, Miss Laplante. Please, let’s sit down! Would you like a coffee or something?’’

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‘’Some coffee would be nice, Madam President. That air trip from Afghanistan was a long one.’’

‘’Then, have a seat while I pour you a coffee.’’

Having expected Clinton to call in a White House steward, Nancy was surprised to see her go to a coffee service left on a trolley in one corner of the Oval Office and pour by herself two cups.

‘’Cream or sugar, Miss Laplante?’’

‘’Uh, one cream and one sugar, please. You do seem to really want to speak with me in total privacy, Madam President?’’

‘’I effectively do, Miss Laplante.’’

Hillary gave her a cup of coffee, then grabbed her own cup and sat facing her on a sofa, waiting for Nancy to take her first sip before speaking in a sober tone.

‘’What you did in Pakistan was incredibly brave…and risky, Miss Laplante. Yet, your sole motives to do it appears to be simple friendship and concern for another person. You may not be an American, but the United States certainly owe you for rescuing Anderson Cooper, even more so since you also killed Mullah Omar.’’

‘’I did it to save a friend and a man I admire from a certain, horrible death at the hands of fanatical barbarians, Madam President. I would have done the same for anyone worthy of saving. As for killing Mullah Omar, let’s just say that he amply deserved to die.’’

Hillary nodded, sensing that she was sincere about that.

‘’Miss Laplante, I was briefed about your ability to travel through time and the fact that you are involved with some type of law enforcement organization based in the future, but I know that you don’t want to talk about that, or about time travel itself, for reasons I can understand. Be assured that, contrary to the Israeli and Russian governments, this government has no plans or intentions to try stealing the technology of time travel from you. I will personally turn down any suggestion to do such things coming from any American official.’’

‘’That is most appreciated, Madam President. So then, what would you like to talk about with me?’’

‘’Well, about you, of course!’’ replied Hillary with a malicious smile. ‘’Without getting into details about time travel, I was made to understand that you actually live multiple lives in other time periods, on top of being a war correspondent in this century.’’

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‘’Don’t forget my second career as an actress, Madam President.’’ said Nancy, warming up to Hillary. ‘’Yes, I do live multiple lives, not only in different time periods, but also in other timelines. There are presently three timelines, each developing in parallel but also independently from each other, except if some ill planned action through time disturbs them. The world you and I presently live in, the one I was born in, is called Timeline ‘A’ and is the original historical line of Humanity. Then there is Timeline ‘B’, created inadvertently by me in 1940 when I was kidnapped by scientists from the far future to be used as an involuntary test subject for their experiments in time travel. Last, branching out of Timeline ‘B’, is Timeline ‘C’, created when someone tried to kill me in 1941 ‘B’. Right now, I live three distinct lives, Madam President: this one as a war correspondent and actress in Timeline ‘A’; another one as a Time Patrol agent conducting missions in a wide variety of time periods, in order to document the past and prevent illegal time travel and, finally, a third live as the supreme ruler of Palestine in the 1940s ‘B’, with the titles of ‘Overseer of the Holy Land of Palestine’ and of ‘Queen of Jerusalem’. I must caution you right away that the history of Timelines ‘B’ and ‘C’ are already quite different from the history you know and will only grow more different as decades go. Personally, I do my best to keep my life here in the 21st Century completely separated from my other lives, in order to preserve the historical integrity of Timeline ‘A’. Here, I am a single woman with a reputation as a wild girl. In Timeline ‘B’, I am married and have a total of six children, four of them adopted.’’

‘’Please, tell me about them.’’ asked Hillary, an eager smile appearing on her face. Nancy smiled back, happy to speak about something that brought her pride and joy.

‘’First, there is Ingrid, an orphaned German teenage girl I adopted in 1941 ‘B’, during the World War Two as it was also known in that timeline. She is now twenty years old and married. Next is Eli, an orphaned boy I adopted just after his birth in 1942 ‘B’ in Jerusalem. He is now three years old. I then had natural twins in 1943 ‘B’, Patrick and Suzanne, who are now two years old. Finally, I adopted two more children who were orphaned in the 5th Century Before the Common Era, Herakles and Tera, who are now respectively ten and fourteen.’’

‘’My goodness, that is quite a family you have! But who is taking care of your children while you are living your life in this century?’’

‘’While I do have a very loyal and dependable nanny for my younger children, I actually cheat time in order that they don’t miss me for more than a few minutes at a

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time, Madam President. I then use what I call ‘hidden time’. For example, I left Jerusalem, where my children stay most of the time, on November the 6th of 1945 ‘B’, at precisely 23:00, local time, to come here to my home in Montreal. I have now spent already two months in this century and will leave to return to Jerusalem in approximately four more months. Then, I will jump space-time and reappear in Jerusalem at 23:10, on November 6 of 1945 ‘B’. As a result, after living here for about six months in a row, I will have disappeared for only ten minutes in 1945 ‘B’. Thus, my children will not have time to miss me, although I invariably cover them with kisses on my returns to Jerusalem. I use the same hidden time trick when I have to go on lengthy missions in the past.’’

‘’But you will burn yourself out quickly by living three lives like this.’’ objected Hillary, making Nancy nod.

‘’Normally I would, Madam President. However, the advanced civilization in the 34th Century which employs me to patrol time has developed a longevity treatment that lets its citizens live well past 200 years of age. I may now be officially 34 years old but, as a result of repeatedly jumping time between multiple time periods, my true biological age is now 42.’’

Hillary gave her a jealous look.

‘’Yet, you look to be thirty at the most.’’

‘’And I will mostly continue to look like I am thirty for my next hundred biological years or so. Then, I will start to slowly age in appearance until I am past 200, when the aging will accelerate. Thus, for the people here in the 21st Century, I will continue to look to be in my thirties for another thirty years or so. The ironic part in this is that most people will think that, like many actresses, I will keep my youthful appearance through cosmetic surgery and the use of heavy makeup. In reality, I will still be in my physical prime…if I don’t get killed in the meantime.’’

‘’Which is a distinct possibility, considering the insane risks you often run as a war correspondent, Miss Laplante.’’ said Hillary on a sober tone. ‘’And your husband in all this? Does he also travel frequently through time? How do you get to keep your relation going?’’

‘’Well, I hope that you have a tolerant mind, Madam President.’’ replied Nancy with a somewhat embarrassed smile. Hillary raised an eyebrow at that.

‘’Is it something that my husband would like to listen to, miss?’’

‘’Probably, Madam President. You see, in 2012, before I started to travel through time, I already had a reputation as a fun-loving girl, while my husband was in 1940 ‘B’ a

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very handsome hunk who liked female company and had a lot of success with women. So, when us two sexy-looking, fun-loving people met in London in 1940 ‘B’, it was love at first sight. We were married to each other right here, in the White House in December of 1940 ‘B’, by no less than President Roosevelt.’’

As Hillary opened her eyes wide at that, Nancy continued on.

‘’Our first months of marriage were faithful ones, during which we adopted Ingrid. Then, someone from the future came to bring me back to my time and things got complicated. While my husband Mike and my adopted daughter Ingrid accompanied me to the future and enrolled like me in the Time Patrol, this meant that, in order to live my life here in the 21st Century without exposing my secret lives, I would have to continue to be officially single. Also, with both me and my husband periodically leaving for long missions in the past, we found ourselves separated from each other for months at a time, according to our respective biological clocks. This is where things get a bit spicy, Madam President. Seeing how our personal lives would be affected by our work through time, and since we both made a difference between love and simple sex, we came to a mutual understanding. When we live together in Timeline ‘B’ or in the 34th Century, we stay totally faithful to each other. However, during long missions in the past, or when I spend months by myself in the 21st Century, we each allow ourselves to date others from time to time, for simple sexual relief. When we get back together, we actually tell each other our adventures and then enjoy each other. I must also tell you that the society of the 34th Century which employs us is a very liberal one compared to the United States of today.’’

Hillary wrung her hand and made a face then.

‘’You’re right! Bill would definitely love to listen to this. Uh, you do keep mentioning long missions in the past. How long could those missions be?’’

‘’Many months at times, Madam President. My longest consecutive stretch on a mission was eight months, when I was documenting the life of Yeshua of Nazareth, better known now as Jesus Christ. By the way, I helped deliver Yeshua when Miriam gave birth to him, and I was present at his crucifixion. While I am nowhere mentioned in the Bible and did everything to keep it so, I was in effect a disciple of Jesus, like many other women which followed him. And yes, Miriam of Magdala, a.k.a. Mary Magdalene, was married to Jesus.’’

Hillary took in a breath, shaken by those revelations. An idea then came to Nancy.

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‘’Madam President, would your husband be by chance in the know about me being a time traveler?’’

‘’I…I did brief him myself about you after being sworn as President, so that he could counsel me on how to handle your case, which is quite fantastic, you must agree.’’

‘’That it is, Madam President. In this case, and in view of the security arrangements you have around you, I think that I could safely loan you two films which would interest you both. Do you mind if I leave you for a couple of minutes, Madam President?’’

Hillary gave her a puzzled look as Nancy got up from her sofa.

‘’A couple of minutes? To go where?’’

‘’To Montreal, to get something for you. It won’t be long, I promise.’’ Nancy then disappeared in a silent flash of light. Feeling her hair rise on her head, Hillary could only stare in disbelief at the empty sofa at first, then took a sip of her coffee, her hands shaking. She nearly jumped out of her own sofa when Nancy reappeared in the Oval Office, in the middle of the room. She smiled to Hillary while sitting back on her sofa and handed her two laser disks in their plastic cases.

‘’I will ask you to view those films in utter privacy with your husband and to treat them as classified items, Madam President. The one titled ‘Yeshua’ is a historical documentary on the life and death of Jesus Christ, as it really happened in the 1st Century. The version you have now is a sanitized one which will give no clue to a viewer about the Time Patrol. The second DVD, titled ‘Sex in History, an intimate relationship’, is however quite sulfurous and is a documentary-cum-erotic comedy the Time Patrol made about the influence of sex on the history of Humanity. All the scenes were filmed in their stated time periods and the persons depicted in it are actual historical characters as named in our documentary. It was produced in a rather humorous style and you will probably burst your spleen watching it, Madam President. You will, among other things, see in it Julius Cesar having his fling with Cleopatra.’’

While Hillary had not been sure at first if she wanted to view the second DVD, the mention of Cleopatra made her snap her head.

‘’Cleopatra? Hell, Bill won’t let me rest until he could see this!’’

‘’I thought so! By the way, my husband Mike and my daughter Ingrid are the two narrators for the documentary on sex. I think that you will like them.’’

‘’Then, I will certainly view it with Bill.’’

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‘’I am sure that you will both like it, Madam President. I also have brought you those three front-row tickets for the oncoming Academy Awards show in Hollywood next weekend. As a nominated finalist in the category of Best Actress in a Drama, I got a number of complimentary tickets to be given to friends or family members. Since I have officially no family in 2017, I thought that your daughter Chelsea, who is a media correspondent like me, could possibly be interested to go and have a chance to mingle with some of Hollywood’s finest.’’

Hillary had a big grin on her face as she gratefully took the tickets.

‘’You are too kind, Miss Laplante, truly. I am sure that Chelsea will love to go. Now, since you are here and will be spending the night at the White House as a guest, I think that it would be a good idea for you now to have my doctor examine and treat you. We will also want to document your wounds, so that the Pakistanis could not later on deny having tortured you.’’

‘’That sounds like a good idea, Madam President.’’ agreed Nancy, becoming more serious. ‘’In truth, I think that seeing your doctor will be no luxury indeed for me.’’

19:13 (California Time)

Sunday, February 28, 2016 ‘A’

Main entrance of the Dolby Theatre

6801 Hollywood Boulevard, Hollywood

California, U.S.A.

Actors, actresses, film producers and other celebrities had been arriving for a good half hour by limousines at the foot of the red carpet leading inside the Dolby Theatre when yet another limousine rolled to a stop. The crowd of media photographers and cameramen, along with dozens of paparazzi, pointed at once their lenses at the limousine, hoping that a big name or two would come out of it. They were not disappointed, as the statuesque woman in an emerald green and gold gown who stepped out of the limousine had been recently front page news in the United States and in the World and was still creating waves. Many gasped on seeing that the strapless gown, which left denuded the woman’s shoulders and put in valor her muscular arms and shoulders, also made visible a dense pattern of whip marks which were only starting to fade away. Her face was also still healing from a savage beating. Yet, her facial expression was one of complete self-assurance and good humor. The reporter from the

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Entertainment Weekly television show spoke in his microphone as his cameraman filmed the arrival of the woman.

‘’And Nancy Laplante has just arrived! Many had doubted that she would show up at the Academy Awards in view of her extensive wounds sustained recently in Pakistan. The celebrated war correspondent and actress has thus just proved once again that she never shies away from adversity. A man is now stepping out as well from her limousine…It is Anderson Cooper, looking well despite his recent ordeal! CNN thus has quite a famous duo attending the Oscars tonight. Wait! Another man is stepping from the limousine, but I don’t think that I know him. Let’s go talk to the trio and find out.’’

Barely beating other reporters and cameramen to Nancy, the EW reporter smiled to her while raising his microphone.

‘’Nancy, your presence here tonight probably surprised many who were predicting that you would not come because of your injuries. How are you feeling tonight, if I may ask?’’

‘’I feel fine, Rick. My injuries, while still a bit sensitive, actually look much worse than they are. Another month or so and I will be like brand new.’’

‘’You’re not afraid that those scars would impede you from producing any new film, then?’’

‘’Not at all! In fact, I’m presently reading a script that was sent to me recently. However, I am not at liberty to discuss with you or others what that script is.’’

‘’That is unfortunate but understandable, I suppose. So, what are your

expectations about your chances tonight to get the Oscar for Best Actress in a Drama?’’

‘’What I will say is that I have a lot of professional respect for the other actresses who are contending for that Oscar. That said, though, I expect to beat the crap out of the lot tonight.’’

The EW reporter laughed at that.

‘’A most appropriate answer from the Shadow Dancer, indeed. And you, Anderson? What do you expect the chances of Nancy to be for winning an Oscar tonight?’’

Cooper smiled and gently put one hand on Nancy’s left shoulder, careful not to touch one of her multiple bruises.

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‘’What I expect is for her to do her usual: fight great odds and win. I believe that her talent as a great actress cannot be denied without a lot of bad faith and that this talent will be justly rewarded tonight.’’

‘’A belief that I certainly share, Anderson. And may I ask who your friend here is?’’

Anderson beamed with pride as he presented the man who had stepped out of the limousine after him.

‘’This is my spouse, Benjamin Maisani. Nancy was most generous in giving us two front-row tickets for the show tonight.’’

As the EW reporter was thinking quickly about a follow-up question to that, Nancy came to his help by cutting in.

‘’Rick, while we are on this, I would like to use this occasion to make a public announcement to your viewers. Anderson has had the personal courage to openly acknowledge his sexual orientation for years and I couldn’t possibly show less courage than him about my own sexual orientation. To all those who ever wondered if I could possibly be bisexual, or hoped that I was one, I have only one answer for them: I am a bisexual woman. So, let the gossips begin!’’

The EW reporter repressed a smile with difficulty, ecstatic that Nancy had chosen him to make public such a juicy announcement.

‘’Well, Nancy, I am sure that the likes of Angelina Jolie and Drew Barrymore will take good notice of that.’’

‘’I sure hope so, Rick! Aah, I think that a couple of other friends I invited to the ceremony are now arriving.’’

The EW reporter, like his cameraman, turned their heads in time to see a long black limousine escorted by two big black sport utility vehicles stop at the foot of the red carpet. He nearly choked from the surprise when five big men and one woman in black suits and sunglasses came out of the two SUVs and formed up a protective box before one of them opened the passenger door of the limousine, letting out ex-President Bill Clinton. The latter was soon followed by his daughter Chelsea, now a mature woman of 36, and her husband, Marc Mezvinsky. Photographed and filmed by dozens of lenses, Bill Clinton exchanged a kiss on the cheek with Nancy, then shook hands with Anderson Cooper and Benjamin Maisani. The group soon moved as one inside, with Bill Clinton smiling and waving at the onlookers, while many of the latter took out their cell phones to tell excitedly friends or relatives about this.

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Both the presence of Bill Clinton and the declaration by Nancy outing herself as being bisexual quickly created quite a swirl in the big lobby where the celebrities already there were mingling and waiting to take their seats. Bill Clinton couldn’t help smile with contentment when he soon found himself in the close company of such women as Angelina Jolie, Drew Barrymore, Natalie Portman, Kristanna Loken, Scarlet Johansson and Lena Headey, all coming to congratulate Nancy on her actions in Pakistan and to wish her a prompt recovery from her wounds. The ex-President, like Anderson Cooper, didn’t miss the way a couple of those actresses gently caressed Nancy’s bruises, supposedly to feel them. The call finally came for all to go take their seats in the show room and they filed in, with the Clintons and their Secret Service bodyguards taking places in the first and second rows, along with the top cinema celebrities present. As for Nancy, she actually sat next to Angelina Jolie and Keira Knightley in the first row, where she chatted quietly with them until the animator for the show walked on stage and started the ceremony.

The presentation of the Oscar for the Best Actress in a Motion Drama Picture came up maybe forty minutes after the show started. Sensing Nancy’s growing excitement, Angelina Jolie smiled in encouragement to her and patted gently her hand, then pressed it as a show’s guest opened the envelope with the name of the winner in it.

‘’…And the winner in the category of Best Actress in a Motion Drama Picture is…Nancy Laplante, for her role in ‘Dances with the Shadows’!’’ Refraining herself from screaming out loud her joy, Nancy got up and kissed in quick turn Angelina Jolie, Keira Knightley, Anderson Cooper and Bill and Chelsea Clinton before climbing the stairs of the stage, followed by the cameras. After accepting her Oscar statuette from the animator, Nancy stood behind the microphone and faced the thousands crowding the theatre.

‘’Mister President, ladies and gentlemen, I could do like many other recipients and start enumerating a long list of parents, relatives, friends and colleagues to thank them for their support. While I have no parents or relatives left alive, I do have many friends, good and honorable people whom I consider nearly like family and whom helped make life so wonderful for me. To those friends and to my colleagues, and particularly to Director Tony Gilroy and to the wonderful cast and crew of ‘Dances with the Shadows’, I

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say ‘thank you’ from the bottom of my heart. Finally, to all my fans who cheered me in my movies, I promise this: THAT I WILL CONTINUE TO KICK ASS!’’ Her last sentence, delivered while raising high her statuette in one hand, touched off a storm of cheers and applauses in the theatre.

In Tel-Aviv, an ex-Mossad agent named Bennie Kellerman, now working as a private security consultant, cheered as well as he watched her acceptance speech on television. In Moscow, President Vladimir Putin made a note to himself while sitting in front of his television set. In Teheran, Captain Farah Qalibaf, of the Intelligence Bureau of the Iranian Revolutionary Guards Corps, smiled with amusement on hearing Nancy’s last sentence when the show was retransmitted in Iran. The demise of Mullah Omar in Pakistan had brought out very few tears in Iran, where the Taliban’s murderous habit of killing indiscriminately Shiite Muslims in Pakistan and Afghanistan was viewed quite dimly. As one who had escorted Nancy during her visit to Teheran in 2013, Farah had been quickly approached by many who were wondering how Nancy Laplante could have done what she had done a week ago in Quetta. Her answer to them had been simple and concise: intelligence, courage, discipline and determination.