Code Name: Clayton
(a fiction by Cella)
It had been nine years since training together for the specialized corps the CIA called The Elite. They came in together, and they'd go out together in another year. Strict policy: ten years in The Elite, if you make it that far, then you retire to “Elite Trainer” to help bring up a new crop of agents.
Neither of them knew each other's real name. Once The Elite got hold of you, everyone went by an alias. At least they got to choose their names. She named herself “Butterfly” after the nickname her mother used when she was a little girl. He named himself “Clayton” after the St. Louis suburb he spent one summer when he was 17. It was such a cliché saying it was the place where he “became a man,” but nonetheless, “Clayton” held strong memories for him.
They both had the best Elite combination: quick thinkers and unassuming looks. They were more alert to situations around them than Secret Service agents, but they could blend easily into a crowd. Even now in their 30's – he, a lanky redhead, and she a petite brunette – they both could easily pass for people many years their junior or senior with the right costume and makeup.
Their current assignment was to protect a corrupt Japanese businessman and get him safely to the International Criminal Court in The Hague, the Netherlands. The only thing was, Mr. Akido had to be protected from afar – it had to look like business as usual in his life. So damning was his testimony and records, that if the wrong people became aware of his plea bargain, the Russian Mafia would put a price so substantial on his head, the safety of the Court Building itself could be compromised. Mr. Akido had to trust that, although he didn't see his protectors, they were there.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The first task consisted of traveling with Akido from Tokyo to London via New York. Flying directly into Amsterdam would cause too much suspicion.
Mr. Akido didn't know that his protectors were the English businessman behind him, flirting with the American girl in the short skirt across the aisle. A couple times, the two would even disappear together for 15 or 20 minutes.
As the plane taxied to the gate at Kennedy Airport, the American girl gave the Englishman her phone number.
“I'll call you next time I'm in New York, love.”
“You'd definitely have a place to stay, Simon,” she purred. “I could show you around the city.”
“Oh, I think we'll be too busy to see the city, Sweetie.”
She giggled at him and they gave each other a rather amorous kiss just before she got her things and walked off the plane.
Akido got a good look at the back of her as she passed by him and snickered to himself. Hope you got a good lay out of it. He's not going to call you.
Changing into her next costume at Kennedy and making it back to the plane in time was the trickiest part of the journey, but one she had done before. Since she sat behind Akido on the first leg, he never got a really good look at her face, so when she walked onboard nearly at the last minute and sat several rows in front of him, bespectacled and hair bunned, in a very conservative black pantsuit, she gave Akido no cause for suspicion.
“Brilliant,” he heard from behind. He just knew the Englishman had spotted fresh meat.
Oh no, not again, thought Akido.
Not long after the plane got back to cruising altitude, the Englishman tried to chat up the woman. All Akido ever heard of the conversation was her slapping his face. Akido was greatful that the Englishman decided to sleep the rest of the way to London.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“By the way, sorry for the slap earlier,” she said to him on the scrambled two-way radio. She watched Akido's room across from hers through the special peephole telescope.
“Hey, you've done worse,” he replied as he sat in a rented car a block behind the entrance of the hotel.
She chuckled a bit. “I have, haven't I. Goodness, remember that time in Madrid? That was quite a fight we had. I hope my knee didn't hurt you too much.”
“I was a little bruised, but the guys were ok.”
“'The guys,'” she giggled, then she silenced and became very serious. “Bird out of the cage,” she said quietly as Akido came out of his room with a briefcase and small suitcase. Through the lens, she followed him to the elevator and saw him press the down button. “He's on his way.” Once the elevator door closed, she quickly removed the telescope from the door, left the room with her bag and took the stairs. Clayton quickly pulled to the hotel entrance just as she arrived at the door. She slid in and he gunned the engine to catch up with the taxi.
“Did you see anyone follow him?”
“Nobody. So far so good.”
“I didn't see anyone either. I guess Akido's good at keeping his mouth shut.”
Once at the Eurostar station, she kept an eye on Akido as he had a cup of coffee, while Clayton changed into his next costume. Soon, he came into her view.
“Nice hair. How much goop is holding up those spikes?” she whispered into the radio. He turned and held up a magazine so nobody could see him talk. “That's enough from you.”
“Sorry. You make a great Parisian grunge rocker – or Statue of Liberty,” she snickered.
“Radio silence until I give the word. I see the target. Move to your next position.”
“Acknowledged. Moving to next position. Over and out.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Everything was quiet for the first hour onboard, until Akido started hearing angry mumbling in French from an emaciated, crazy-looking, spiked-haired rocker two rows ahead of him.
“God, I can't stand it anymore. What kind of trash music are you listening to? It makes me want to vomit!” He blathered a few obscenities in French, then forcibly removed the earphones from the teenaged girl sitting directly in front of him and grabbed for the cd jewelbox next to her. “Who is this? Clay Aiken. Well, isn't Clay-whoever-the-hell-he-is a pretty boy! And what stupid name – Clay – he's named after dirt! Do you have the Spice Girls and Britney-flipping-Spears in that bag, too?” He threw the items back at her. “Listen to REAL music, not the treacle the greedy, tasteless, totalitarian record conglomerates want you to listen to, you stupid girl!”
From the way she flinched as the rocker yelled at her, the girl seemed quite frightened. Mr. Akido got the attention of the steward to do something about the rude rocker accosting the girl. A rather burly staff member came by and asked him to quiet down.
“You called him over here,” Clayton the Rocker pointed and yelled right at Akido. “Why don't you mind your own damn business!” More obscenities were muttered in French until finally the staff member got the rocker to move to a seat up front and quiet down.
Mr. Akido saw the girl turn meekly toward him. “Thank you, sir.”
He smiled. “I have a daughter about your age at home. I wouldn't want anyone to treat her that way.” She smiled and put her headphones back on, sat back and opened a teen magazine.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
From Paris, Akido took the five o'clock Thalys high-speed train to Amsterdam with a stationstop at The Hague – it was a 3-1/2-hour ride, including a transfer at the hub in Brussels. They dressed in business attire and laid low during the first leg – one behind and one in front of Akido.
In Brussels, they had to keep a close eye on him in the bustling train station. With so many people around, anything could happen in an instant. They took turns between watching Akido as he had a sandwich for lunch and changing into their next personas.
Once onboard again, they posed as a honeymoon couple, sitting two rows behind Akido. They wore matching outfits – denim bucket hats and white t-shirts that said “Bride” and “Groom” in Dutch on them, with a pair of sneakers tied to the outside of each of their white backpacks. They quietly and lovingly communicated in Dutch, with intermittant kisses and eye contact. Even though it was an act for Akido, they were actually quite enjoying this leg of the journey.
Not long after the station stop in Antwerp, an older Dutch couple came aboard, saw them and congratulated them on their nuptuals, then chatted with them the rest of the trip. They had to tag-team between non-chalantly guarding Akido and talking to the older couple about their wedding and how they were going to Scheveningen for their honeymoon. The older couple told them all about the seaside village – it was the same place they had spent their honeymoon 31 years ago, and how today they were visiting their grandchildren in Amsterdam.
Den Haag was announced over the train's PA system as it slowed into the station at The Hague. Den Haag. They watch Akido leave and they quickly give friendly goodbyes to the couple. Akido took a taxi to the arranged hotel several blocks from the Court Building, with them following on scooters.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Akido's arrangements called for The Elite team to pick him up from his hotel room at 10:00 a.m. the next morning, where he would be handed over to prosecutors for debriefing and kept under lock and key until the Grand Jury convened the following day. Their assignment would be complete once he was given to the prosecutors.
Once Akido was in his hotel room, they immediately changed into their next personas – a couple meeting for a date. They knew it was safest for him to lie low in his room, but they had to be prepared to follow him at a moment's notice should he decide to go out. Clayton watched through the peephole telescope as Akido entered the hallway, while she sat in the lobby reading a newspaper.
“Bird out of the cage. Damn, he's taking a big risk going out.”
“He probably thinks he won't live through tomorrow and wants a little enjoyment before turning himself in.” She thought a moment about another possible scenario awaiting them.
“Let's hope he doesn't pick up a hooker,” she adds.
Clayton chuckled. “I'm sure you'll step in and lay yourself down to protect him just in case he finds one.”
She went silent. He didn't know she had to do that very thing once about five years ago and hoped that scenario wouldn't come into play tonight, or ever again for that matter. Even now, the mere sight of silk scarves made her nervous.
“Don't think you're off the hook,” she retorted. “You never know – he may want to bat for the other team tonight.”
Now Clayton grew silent as he removed the telescope and grabbed for the doorhandle, also knowing he must do ANYTHING necessary to protect his target. “You made your point.” Clayton ran down the stairs.
She saw the elevator door open and glimpsed briefly at Akido just before she she hid behind her chair. “Bird in flight. Where are you?” she whispered. Clayton came into sight from the other side of the lobby just as Akido left the building. He came up to her and gave her a quick kiss, then they left arm-in-arm for appearance sake.
They followed him from afar. Akido walked two blocks, spotted a friendly-looking bar then went inside.
“Ok, move out to the Court Building and I'll go inside and keep an eye on things. Meet me back here. If he leaves the bar before you get back, I'll contact you by radio.”
“Acknowledged.” She started walking the five blocks to the Court Building.
God, I hope he's only staying for a quick drink, Clayton thinks as he walks into the bar.
While he's looking after Akido, she goes down to the Court Building to check out the surroundings and run possible scenarios. She walks around the small village park nearby and around the entire perimeter of the two buildings, met at the top by a large window-filled skyway. She sees the strengths and weaknesses in the area and makes mental notes of buildings and windows where snipers could shoot from, ways a car could be brought into the area for a drive-by shooting, etc.
After 90 minutes, she comes into the bar. Akido is still sitting at the bar, drinking and watching television. Clayton stands, greets her in Dutch and gives her a nice kiss and she joins him at a far table. They leaned in close and whispered to each other.
“He must be really nervous – that's the third drink he's ordered. He's been watching the soccer game, too.”
Clayton seems extra serious – like he's upset about something.
“What's wrong? Did you spot a mark?”
He rubs his long face. “Oh...I guess it's just been a long day, and damn if all I've had to eat are these crisps. The kitchen closed 20 minutes before we arrived.”
She chuckled a bit. “Nobody said the job was glamorous. When we get back to the room, I can keep an eye on Akido.”
“No...I'm fine. I just expected him to leave a lot sooner than this.”
“You must be tired if you're forgetting Rule One – Expect the Unexpected.”
Just as he's about to reply, Akido pays his tab and leaves. “You follow him – I'll be right behind you,” Clayton says as he quickly opens his wallet.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
With Akido in his room for the evening, the two of them finish their rather simple dinner of protein bars, the contents of a small fruit bowl and water. She was quiet throughout their meal – he could see the gears turning behind her eyes. She finally looked straight at him and spoke quite seriously.
“This was almost too easy, don't you think? Not one problem, not one suspicious character.” A knot was twisting in her gut. “Whatever's going to happen, it's going to happen just before we deliver him.”
“It could get ugly tomorrow.”
“Real ugly.” She walked over to the window, stood out of the light and peeked through the curtains. The pale white light of the full moon cast a beautiful glow to the area, and the streetlights flickered like candles. She could see the top half of the towering Court Building several blocks away.
“You ok, B?”
They'd known each other so long, there was a special bond. Not just her favorite partner, but something so much deeper. Fraternization wasn't allowed during the 10-year tenure, but once they retired and were safely back at the CIA assisting the trainees, they were allowed to have their lives back, relatively speaking. She looked forward to spending all the time she could with Clayton.
She didn't turn around. “I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight,” she said with much concern in her voice. “I can't...I can't shake this feeling.”
He came up behind her, placed his hands on her shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. Her eyes closed and he felt her melt under his touch. “You need to get some sleep,” he whispered. “Try to at least take a nap. I'm here. Things are under control.”
She looked up at him and gave a small smile. “You're right. I should while I've got the chance,” She went into the other room, lay on the bed and closed her eyes. Her head was swirling with possible scenarios on what could go down tomorrow morning...
...sniper...
...grenade...
...car bomb...
...but she managed to fall asleep for almost an hour.
She awoke and saw Clayton in the mirror, sitting in a chair across the room, watching her. It had been more than a year since she allowed herself to feel for him that way, and being the good agents they were, they never let it go further than the “amorous kissing” while in disguise. But tonight, her unshakable feeling, along with the look in his eyes at that moment signaled her desire to ignore the regs.
She stood up and silently walked to him, their gaze never wavered. She knelt, then sat on the floor beside his chair, wrapped her arms around his long legs and leaned her head against his thigh. He smoothed her hair again and again, then reached gently for her chin. She knelt back up to meet his most tender jade eyes.
“You know I've always loved you,” he confessed.
Her dark eyes sparkled when she smiled. “I've always known.” He reached for her waist and gently lifted her to standing as he rose from the chair. They embraced so tight. His hands slid under her blouse and felt her smooth skin.
“Nine years... I don't want to wait a minute longer,” she whispered.
He pulled away from her and turned out all the lights, then opened the curtain to let the glow of the moon bathe the room in soft light. He came back to her and cradled her chin with his fingertips.
“You are so beautiful in the moonlight,” he whispered. His lips reached for hers as her hands slid to his slim waist and reached for his belt. She took her time to unbuckle it, then she unbuttoned his charcoal trousers.
He slid his hands from her chin, over her shoulders and down her arms, finally reaching her waist. He lingered there a moment or two, then ran his long hands up her torso to the sides of her breasts. He pulled her closer as she unbuttoned his silk dress shirt from the bottom, up, then slowly pulled his shirttails from his trousers. Once unbuttoned and untucked, she slid her hands upward against his chest and removed the dress shirt from his shoulders.
The tank-style undershirt beneath fit him like a glove. It wasn't like she hadn't seen him without a shirt on before, but during assignments, when it's all business, an agent has no time to appreciate a partner's body, but now she could really see just how beautiful were the contours of his toned chest and stomach. Her hands caressed the light blanket of soft, dark-cinnamon hair on his arms as she leaned forward and laid light kisses on his chest. He let go of her a moment and slowly pulled off the undershirt. His eyes closed and he brought her tighter against him. She felt his long fingers slide down her back, then her blouse lifted upward over her.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
With barely the first light of day coming into the room, he came out of the bathroom and closed the curtains. He sat on the edge of the bed in his thick, white robe, his hair wet and combed back, remembering the night.
“Clayton...” she moaned.
Her voice grew as the tension built. He danced inside her with an achingly slow rhythm.
“Clayton...”
He laid kisses against her face and neck. “Yes, Butterfly. You're so beautiful,” he replied breathlessly.
“I love you, Clayton,” she whispered as she took in a deep breath, lost in this beautiful moment.
“I love you, Butterfly.”
The dance quickened with their pulses. The tension within both of them rose to a white-hot tempest.
“Clayton...” she called again and again.
“Come for me, my Butterfly, come for me,” he cried as sweet release overpowered them both.
It was like another force took over when he was with her – he had never felt that with any other. He didn't think there was a single time where they weren't touching each other for the last four amazing hours.
She came out of the bathroom in her matching robe, fresh-scrubbed and glowing. He pat the bed with his left hand and smiled. She sat down and he wrapped his arm securely around her. She turned to him and slid her arms inside his robe to caress his skin once again. He gave her a sweet kiss, then pulled away to look at her. There was so much love in her dark eyes. A whole future in those eyes.
“I never thought we'd ever...” she gently said.
“Neither did I,” he said as he scanned her face. “I've waited so long for you. You're all I've thought about.”
“I love you, Clayton,” she whispered so soft.
His lips reached again for hers. Her clean scent and the taste of her lips made what he did all the more difficult. She felt a strong jerk and a terrible burn deep in her chest. Her eyes opened wide to him. He flinched as her nails instinctively raked across his skin from the pain.
He laid her gently down on the bed, still firmly holding the knife impaling her heart. She saw sympathy in his eyes, but a coldness, too.
“Why?”
There was a frustration in his voice. “I'm sorry...you're the only one standing in my way. If Akido hadn't stayed in that damn bar so long last night, he'd be dead and I would've disappeared. When you got back before he left the bar, I knew what I had to do. God dammit, I didn't want to do this.” He paused a moment and looked into her eyes. “It'll be over soon. I don't want you to suffer.”
She can feel the life draining from her. Tears fell from the corners of her eyes, regretful she let her love for him overpower her judgment and place her in this fatal position. She wondered what made him betray The Elite and her.
“I wanted forever with you. We...we would've had our chance soon,” she managed to expel.
“You'll have your chance now to be with him forever. I killed Clayton in Cairo five months ago with this same knife.”
Her eyes went wide. He had spoken in a Russian accent. She sent up a prayer as she took her last few breaths. Her Clayton was dead. The terrycloth robe grew warm and wet as it absorbed her blood. Suddenly, she saw the stranger behind the mask.
“Who...” she tried to ask.
“You and Akido should've been dead last night, but seeing the love in your eyes and knowing how Clayton felt for you, I couldn't do it until the two of you got to make love just once. Believe me when I say that I KNOW he was here tonight.”
She closed her eyes – it was almost over. “Clayton...”
He leaned to her ear and whispered as she drew deep her last breath.
“His last words were...” He swallowed and let his Russian accent disappear.
“...'I love you, my Butterfly.'”
--------------
~Posted 4.10.2004~
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-Cella