Science Fiction Multi-Feature Picture Show

White Lies (Part 3)

Consciousness made a slow agonizing crawl back to James. His eyes finally fluttered open to the soothing tones of AC/DC's Money Made. He stared up at a lazily rotating ceiling fan, following the plastic blades with his eyes as his senses came back on line.

"Come taste the sweet life, that's what it's all about," a familiar voice sang, moving in the corner's of his vision. James turned his head to the sweet, sweet sight of Jane White, dressed in a mouthwatering lacy lingerie the same turquoise green of her eyes. She pranced across the room from him, her hair damp from the shower, easing a sheer white robe over her shoulders. His memory filtered through the hazed of lust clouding his thoughts, reminding him the lovely vision was the same bitch who shot a dart in his neck. He would have to question her about that, right after she finished this sinuous dance routine. She dipped low, giving him a sight of her backside that made him suck in his breath.

Jane turned. She wasn't surprised he was awake, her movements turning even more sensual as she made her way to him on the bed. He wanted to touch her, to feel the softness of her honey kissed skin. His wrists strained against the cuffs. James realized she had bound him to the bed.

"I don't normally engage in foreplay with a woman who turns on me, Ms. White."

She sat beside him on the bed, so close, so utterly out of reach. "It's not White," she said, reaching out to stroke his face. The action confused him with its familiarity.

"You can't hold me here," said James. "M will know you took me." That was a bluff. It didn't matter if M knew who took him or not. Agents were on their own in the field. If you were captured in the line of duty, it was best to take care of your own affairs. It was a last resort but his tongue felt for the cyanide capsule set in his back teeth and found nothing.

"I removed it," said Jane, tracing a finger along his jaw. "And M knows exactly where you are. It was part of the deal."

He eyed her with suspicion. "Deal? What deal?"

In answer, Jane lifted a picture frame from the nightstand, flipping it towards him. He stared.

And stared.

"I don't understand."

The picture was taken some years ago, perhaps close to a decade, but the faces were unmistakable. Jane's face, his face. The happiness in their expressions. The tenderness in their embrace. A young couple in love. He could see the matching rings on their clasped hands.

"There is usually only one way out of the program," said Jane, setting the picture down. "The death of one agent to trigger the next."

Fear fractured the confusion roiling through his skull. What was she telling him? His stomach clenched in rebellion. Had she poisoned him in some sick game? James realized with some measure of certainty he was about to die. That is, until she leaned down and gently brushed her lips over his.

"I found a loophole," she whispered against his mouth. She moved over him, slipping something cold and metallic around his neck. The dog tags fell against his chest. He eyed them, dubious.

"What are those?' He kept his tone sharp, refusing to betray his unease. Jane lifted the tags up for him to see. "Who is Simon Godwin?"

"You are," said Jane, letting the tags fall back against his chest. James blinked at her, confusion fading to anger.

"You're lying!" He snapped. "I don't know what sick game you're playing at it-"

She covered his mouth with one hand, her eyes full of sadness so arresting he fell quiet to listen. "You don't believe it now because you have not been Simon Godwin for nearly twelve years." She took her hand away, watching him. "It took me a decade just to find you. I spent the last two years striking a deal with M for your release."

He didn't believe her. He didn't want to believe her, but doubt took root at her words. When he tried to remember his life before his service as an agent, he slammed against a blank wall. "How do I know you aren't lying? You lied about your own name." He looked at her. "Was anything you told me in the care true?"

"Most of it was true," she said. "I only lied about that which you couldn't handle."

"Like your husband?" His gaze darted to the photo. It couldn't be...

"He was lost to me. I vowed to find him and I did."

James couldn't process that right now, he didn't want to process that right now, except that trickle of doubt was expanding. He could feel the elusive tug of memory straining to break free. "What deal did you make, Jane?"

Her features schooled themselves again. He knew that face now. She was quite skilled at hiding her true feelings when she aimed to.

"An exchange. I offered M a malleable potential in exchange for you," she sighed, laying her head on his chest. "I didn't want to spring it on you all at once though she told me I would have to use the code words to break through to you." Jane pressed her forehead to his. "Please don't break on me too much."

She leaned over him, the tips of her damp hair brushing his face as she pressed her mouth to his ear. "Fleming's Scribe."

Simon blinked.

***

M glanced through the facility's mainframe. Jane Godwin did an impeccable wipe of the hard drive. There would be no record of Felix Hatten, anywhere in the vast web of cyberspace. Jane made sure of it with her little virus. Brilliant woman. If she hadn't been so sore on Simon's omission into the 007 program she would have made a fine agent herself. It was only M's respect for Jane's skills and previous service that made her open to the exchange.

M eyed her newest acquisition. The twelfth in her lifetime. It was a shame they had such a short shelf life but it was a dangerous line of work.

Securing her tablet under her arm, she turned up the dim lighting of the room, causing the man to stir. He was a bit rough around the edges, but so was Simon when they brought him in. M stood at the food of the cot as his eyes fluttered open. Glassy. Good, the drugs were in full effect.

"Hello, James. So good to see you awake."