The barman never realised she was not a she. When it was suggested, he shook his head and laughed.
“Her, a man? No way dude, no way.”
From one of the bouncers he managed to find out that she was illegally in the USA, so perhaps as part of the package, if she survived, that is, the authorities may have given her a new identity in the relocation programme to Smallville, USA. In short, he was no further ahead in his quest to locate her, but he had lots of time.
Michelle ran up to and through the line, her legs and belly aching, and her lungs ready to burst.
“Well done, that one was just under twelve minutes. Go take a shower, Michelle.”
Michelle caught her breath and eased the twenty pound pack on her shoulders. A mile and a half in less than thirteen minutes isn’t hard. But wearing body armour, side arm and a twenty pound pack makes it slightly more difficult.
She had now passed the final physical exam. She passed the shooting, the driving and everything else. The final law exam was on the following day, and if successful, she was through!
It had been a tough course, but she had been determined and very keen to pass. Ryan had already finished his courses, as a certified law enforcement officer he was already more than half way there. So he was back working with Sean in the Miami office.
Michelle’s course was residential, so she only managed to escape at the weekends. There was a lot of work to undertake, even then, she and Ryan would spend most of the time helping her learn her law.
She’d managed to lose her accent, adopting a relatively neutral east coast accent, one which made her indistinguishable from most of the other girls. Her skills as a mimic had meant that it was relatively easy for her. There were forty in her intake, two classes of twenty. Each class had eight women, and no one suspected that Michelle was anything other than what she purported to be.
The fact she was engaged, very attractive and one of the best on the course also helped her credibility. She worked very hard to maintain that image, as inside she was so conscious of her true origins, so she suffered occasional sleepless nights even now.
So it was with enormous relief and some pride she arrived at Sean’s office on the following Monday morning, presented her new badge to the security on the main reception, reaching the office with a huge grin on her face.
“Congratulations and welcome to the team!” said her boss, with her fiancé standing grinning beside him.
“You have no idea how pleased I am to be here under these circumstances,” she said.
She was surprised at the warmth of Sean’s greeting, as he had a reputation of being rather cold.
“How’s your English?” Sean asked.
“My English? Okay, why?”
“Not your language, your accent. How’s your English accent?”
She frowned for a moment.
“Um, if I concentrate, I suppose it’s pretty good. However, one has to concentrate awfully hard and keep those vowels clipped in tightly, don’t you agree?” she said, in a very good upper class English accent.
“Okay, then you have to concentrate a lot over the next few weeks. You’re going undercover again, this time as Lady Fiona Hardwicke, niece of the British attaché to the Governor’s office in Barbados in the Caribbean. They have a large sea front property here in Florida, so we need you to do a little job for us.”
“Is this Hardwicke a suspect?” she asked.
“Not at all, he’s actually MI6, and is helping us try to nail the rest of the Mendoza cartel.”
“Does Fiona really exist?”
“Sure she does. There are five girls, and Fiona is sailing off the Australian coast at the moment up near the Great Barrier Reef. This is her photograph,” he said, passing Michelle a colour photo of a pretty girl, similar to her in many ways.
“I don’t understand.”
“We’ve good intelligence that Juan Carlos Mendoza has taken off where Luis stopped. We have been closely watching Ricardo Candarez. He’s the lawyer who is linked to the cartel. His firm represented all the detainees from the Island, so we know he’s dirty. He’s also very slick, and up until now hasn’t given us anything to pin on him. But he made a mistake. We believe he was instrumental in setting up a country club, right here in Florida. No big deal, but having done some checking with the Department of Defense and, although they haven’t been able to locate any plans or details, they state that a cold war facility was located in or around that region.
“We want to get a closer look at the Silver Lakes Country Club. We suspect that it is a front for the Mendoza cartel, but exactly what it’s purpose is, your guess is as good as mine. The Department of the Treasury have examined their books, and they seem fine, all above board and no laundering as far as they can tell. Something is fishy, but we haven’t a clue what makes the smell. All we do know is that there is more to the club than we can see.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“First, have a complete make-over, change your appearance from blonde American to cool English lady. The long hair has to go; to a neat bob in a darker colour; say auburn. The clothes can still be designer, but conservative and very smart.”
“And then?”
“You join the country club, hang out there; just see what you can find out where their complex is located.”
“Okay, on my own?”
“This time you’ve someone else going in with you.”
“Oh, who?”
“Me,” said Ryan.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I’m an injured ex-cop. No one knows me from the DEA down here, so that should be fine. My service record with Buffalo PD is an open book, so the security team at the Lakes want ex-cops. I’ve already got the job, I start next Monday.”
****************************************
Carol Geddes was thrilled with her new job. She’d left High School with reasonable grades, but none were good enough for her to get to the college of her choice. It meant retaking some grades or making do with second best, a set of affairs that her parents were hardly delighted about. However, her father had heard through his fellow board members of a new country club that was seeking to employ the best of the best. Carol had applied for a position as receptionist and been accepted. The salary was better than any other club in the area, and as all the right people were becoming members, she hoped that in time she’d become known and move on to better and bigger things. Her mother simply wanted her to meet Mr Right and move on to a large home with a secure future. Such was the reputation of the club that it was a damn good bet that Mr Right would walk through her door any day now.
She was checking her emails whilst sitting at her desk in front of the computer hidden from view when a shadow fell across the desk. She glanced up to see the most beautiful young woman she could ever remember seeing.
Carol was attractive, with the statutory long fair hair and peaches and cream complexion. Generally considered to be a ‘babe’ by the males in her year, she suddenly felt placed in the shade. This young woman oozed sex appeal, wealthy self-confidence and a certain arrogance that comes with wealth and breeding.
“Good morning, welcome to Silver Lakes, how may I help you this morning?”
“Oh, good morning, I’m Fiona Hardwicke; I believe I’m expected?” the girl said, her clipped English accent, designer clothes and stunning diamonds testimony to her standing.
“One moment, ma’am, I’ll check.”
Carol entered the details on the computer. She saw with some trepidation that a Lady Fiona Hardwicke was indeed booked in and was staying for three weeks. Carol dimly remembered that Princess Diana had been a Lady before marrying Prince Charles.