No Man's Land

20- To Her and The Employers

Jana *****

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There was a note. Twenty minutes of following a trodden path amidst the foliage had led us to a small clearing. My gun out in front of me, I quickly checked to make sure no one was on the outskirts of the tree line, before slowly making my way forward.

The note, typed out on a pristine white paper, was pinned to the tree opposite to the trail by a knife. As I got closer, I recognized the knife, and something seemed to click. I dropped my guard and pulled the knife out of the tree. I gazed at it's leather grip, wiping it on my shirt. 

I held the paper in my other hand. I tucked the knife into my waistband and scanned the note, holding it out so Maxine could see it. Poruka za nju-  A message for her.  Each line read in a different language- by the looks of it, Croatian, Norwegian, French, and Arabic. All languages in my repertoire.

"You can read it." Maxine noted, scanning the note. She only seemed to recognize the French. I nodded, re-reading the message again to make sure I hadn't incorrectly translated anything. "Well what does it say?"

Znamo tko si, Joe. Vaša dugo čuvana tajna konačno je otkrivena i znamo što ćemo s njom. We know who you are. Your long kept secret has finally been revealed and we know just what to do with it.

La dette fungere som en advarsel for ditt byrå for ikke å blande seg i andres saker. En kopi av dette brevet er også sendt til byrået ditt. Vi forventer gjengjeldelse og velkommen det. 

"Let this serve as a warning to your agency to not meddle in the affairs of others. A copy of this letter has been sent to your agency as well. We expect retaliation, and welcome it. Shit."

"So they are targeting you?" Maxine asked, hesitantly. I didn't respond, reading on.

Le chef vous adresse ses salutations et espère que cette lettre vous permettra de voir tout ce que vous avez mal fait. Ici, dans l'isolement, vous n'avez personne pour vous aider. Vous n'alourdirez plus vos soi-disant partenaires.

"The chief sends his regards, and hopes this letter will make you see all that you have done wrong. Here, in seclusion, you have no one to help you. You will no longer burden your so called partners."

لن تضطر إلى الانتظار طويلا ، وكلاء. خذ هذا الوقت للتفكير في كل ما فعلته خاطئاً وأدعو الله أن يرحمك.

"You will not have to wait long, agents. Take this time to reflect on all you've done wrong and pray that he shows you mercy." I stared at it for a second longer before focusing back on the task at hand. "They wanted us to find this."

"We need to get back to camp," Maxine said, mirroring my own thoughts. "Quickly." It wasn't safe to be out here, just the two of us, if they knew where we were. Too risky. I nodded to her and broke out into a sprint. 

We started to slow down after the first minute of running, both of us trying to control our breathing enough to help us get back to camp without stopping. Maxine, six inches taller than me and with a bigger stride, kept a few feet in front of me as we jogged through the foliage, each of us with our guns still on hand. Every few moments I would spare a glance over my shoulder to make sure we weren't being tailed. 

In about 12 minutes we made it back to camp, having cleared about a mile and a half. We received a few odd looks from passengers and more serious ones from agents as we came to a halt at the fire. I tried to swallow the dryness in my throat as I visually located Parker, calling out to him. At my voice, he whipped around, a solemn look on his face.

"Where were you?" He asked, his tone dark.

"Following a trail. They left a note." I explained, presenting it to him. He frowned.

"I can't read any of this, sorry." He muttered.

"I'll translate it for you later. Listen, I think they are going to continue to pick people off. We need to implement some counter measures." Parker looked at the ground, letting out a sigh.

"We know that already..." He started.

"What?"

"While you were gone, two more disappeared."

___

*Classified Location*

Muriel was not having a good day. Top brass was not happy about the disappearance of 17 agents under the United States' government's watch. Ever since Croatia, global relations, especially of the EU, had been particularly strained. MI6 had since flown in their agents handlers and instructed the FBI to drop many of their staff from the case, for risk of information falling into the wrong hands. Meanwhile, the bureau executives were having a field day arguing about the relevance and importance of keeping certain agent's names undisclosed while letting other ones free to the press. Of the families, the only ones that had been informed were those within the agency; the rest were told that their assignments had been extended.

Now, through a backdoor in their filtering system, Charles Manning had received and email from an undetectable server network, hinting at the release of information of several of their operatives. In case you forgot, Manning was the director of the agency. Someone had snuck a message to the god damned director of an international espionage committee. 

Muriel had her fair share of problems with the Jana O****. She was too young, too unpredictable, and in light of recent events, too scarred. Yet, at the moment, Muriel would have stabbed someone to simply see that face in person again. That wavy, dark hair. That tanned skin she had gotten from her mother. She was her responsibility, and somehow, despite how bothersome she was, Muriel felt how she imagined a mother would feel if she disappointed her child. That was it- she knew how disappointed the girl probably was with her.

Muriel set down her folder with a sigh, staring up at the faces of the other passengers and agents. Each one had a story, and each one had a life to get back to- some more important than others. Her priority- that's right-she had to focus on her four. Carrie, Michael, Chestine, and Jana, were all like her children- her messed up, deadly little children. When they returned, which she knew they would, she would greet them on the air field. She would kick down every door she needed to and stand on that tarmac and watch that young woman get out of the plane, if it was the last thing she did. 

And then she'd probably slap Jana for letting this happen under her watch.

*

1,000 bishes. We did it.  In November, we were celebrating 100. A few months later we're here at 1k. Thank you all, so, so, much. 

Here's a playlist inspired by the tone of this story that I made a while back. Speaking of music, that brings us to this week's song: Fred Astaire by Jukebox and the Ghost. 

As for a few chapter notes, I try to keep my chapters above 1,000 words. However, I wanted this one, on the islander's side, to be a bit shorter. That inspired me to bring back no one's favorite stressed out CIA handler, Muriel! Will she come back again? Maybeeee

K bye <3 -K

Playlist:

https://open.spotify.com/user/missputtiecat7/playlist/1enDtQsUo74vBc5b2IaBRz?si=yOorc72OReyBqNz-miVdZA