By the Pale Moonlight

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Claire dropped onto the sofa and sighed heavily. 

If this wasn’t so serious, I’d say something flippant like, “Those artifacts belong in a museum!”  But this is no Indiana Jones move!

Picking up the remote, Claire turned on the TV and flipped through the channels.  She stopped at a computer animated movie.  Shrek.

Good, Claire thought.  Something light and funny.  I need a laugh right now.

But she found she could not concentrate.  Her mind kept going over the last few weeks.

First Daemon carjacks her and they end up in a safe house.  Then an Afghan drug lord tries to have her killed through Daemon.   The CIA and MI 6 interrogate her about a friend of Michael’s.  Finally, she discovers that Michael’s friend left a thumb drive with information about some Iraqi artifacts! 

My house is bugged.  I can’t even think out loud.   I might as well go to bed. 

Pulling the covers over her head, Claire made a gallant effort to fall asleep.

As Daemon opened the door, he checked his own flat for bugs. 

Nothing. 

At least they left him to some peace.  Daemon pieced together the recent events.  MI 6 and the CIA both had an interest in the thumb drive Michael left for Claire.  Maybe both organizations were legitimately wanting to recover the artifacts for the Iraqis but Daemon couldn’t be sure.  Richards was always a bit shady in Daemon’s estimation and he didn’t know much about Smith and Johnston to form an opinion.  Bill didn’t seem to know anything about MI 6’s dealings in this situation.  Could that be for a reason?  Has Richards gone rogue?  He wasn’t going to take any chances. 

Daemon took the mobile out of his pocket.  It was the one he retrieved from the dead Russian.  He had given the other one to Claire so they could talk privately.  Right now, he was calling Shorty, his team’s forgery expert.

Shorty was a tall man, six foot four, with long blond hair and a mustache.  He looked like a throw back to the sixties or a Viking warrior.   Shorty, in his mid thirties,  was an expert in both reading forgeries and creating them.

“G’day!”  Shorty answered.  He had a fondness for different accents, using them often.  Especially when answering an unknown caller.  This time he used an Australian accent.

“Shorty, it’s Daemon.”

Hey, boss.  What can I do for you?”

“I need two passports.  One for me and one for a woman.  I’ll send you her picture.”  Daemon had taken a picture of Claire on the mobile before they parted at the playground.  “She’s about five foot eight and slim with dark brown eyes.  We need Arabic names and extensive travel logs in middle eastern countries.”  He replied.

Shorty was quick to respond.  “Right.  When do you need them?”

“Yesterday.”  

“You got it Boss.  I assume this is on the QT?”  Shorty asked.

Daemon replied, “Shorty, you are clever!”

“That’s why you hired me.”  Shorty answered, a grin in his voice.

“Who’s the bird?”  Shorty asked, admiringly as the picture of Claire appeared on his mobile.

“I'll meet you at the usual place around nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”  Daemon ignored his question and rang off.