Layla Colinson

Prologue

"Layla Colinson." Colonel Davidson dropped a stack of files on Major Webb's desk with a loud thump.

Webb lowered his spectacles, looking over them at the young man. "Who?"

Davidson flipped open the first file and pulled out a photo. "Layla Colinson." He repeated handing the photo to the Major.

He took it, replacing his spectacles to observe the young girl in the photo. She had brown hair and hung across her face, hiding one of her brown eyes from view but doing nothing to mask the butterfly tape holding a wound over her eye closed. Nor did it detract from the many bruises on her cheeks and neck. The girl herself was quite young, certainly not over ten.

"And I care why?" Webb asked, handing the photo back to Davidson who replaced it in the folder.

"Layla was the daughter of Private James Colinson, who was killed in Iraq by a group of rebel activists." Davidson explained.

Webb reached for his coffee mug. This was going to take a while.

"Layla witnessed her father's death and somehow she killed a half dozen of the armed men." The Colonel continued.

The mug was empty. Webb put it down and massaged his temples. "And why do I care?"

"She was taken into protective custody by the CIA and diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Two days after Diagnosis she broke out of the ward, stole her file, and disappeared."
"How old was this girl again?"

"Layla was eight at the time of her father's death." Davidson replied calmly.

"Good Lord." Webb murmured.

Davidson pulled another file from the stack. "This is Eliza Richards." He said, opening another file.

Webb groaned.

"She first appeared in London five years after the disappearance of Layla Colinson and is responsible for the deaths of two MI-5 agents." He continued. "Then she just disappeared. And a year latter an Eleanor Roberts pops up in Russia, exposing three agents and killing another. Once again, she just vanishes without a trace."

Webb reached for the coffee cup again. Hoping that it had somehow magically refilled itself.

"Then two years later a Lilly Peters crops up in Pakistan. Two dead three captured. Then she's gone." Davidson laid the last file in front of him.

The mug was still empty and Webb was beginning to question his will to live. "So what you're saying is that we have four super spy girl's on the loose?"

Davidson cocked his head to one side. "What? No. I'm saying we have one super spy on the loose."

"But," Webb gestured at the files.

"I think all four of these girl's are, in fact, Layla Colinson." Davidson said dramatically dropping the photo of the eight year old girl in front of Webb.

Webb stared at him. He really needed some more coffee. "What?"

Davidson ruffled through the files. "We only have one photo of Layla Colinson, but I managed to find a photo of Eliza Richards. If you look closely, they both have the same head shape, Eliza's hear is black and pulled back, but the two faces are similar. Really similar. And all four of them have the same MO. That's either a clue or a huge coincidence. And then...all of the agents killed had a direct link to Steve Carter."

Webb cast a longing look at the coffee pot sitting innocently in the break room just across the hall. "Who is Steve Carter?"
"Steven J. Carter was the commanding officer responsible for the rescue of Private Colinson and his daughter."

Webb slowly ran his gaze over the four files spread out across his desk. "I see." He replied, all thoughts of coffee forgotten for the moment. "And why are you telling my this now?"

"I think I have lead on her." Davidson said breathlessly. "This girl just popped up on our radar in South America. She goes by Gina Fredricks, but I think she's Layla Colinson."

"So who's her target?" Webb asked, pushing the files back and pulling out his phone.

"That's where this gets serious. Carter is on a mission there. I think she's going after MI-5 agent Steve Carter."

Webb stared at him for a long moment. "We have to get in contact with them. Now. Get me Jill Richards."

"Yes Sir." Davidson hurried form the office.