(I have changed the name and moved this to the Fantasy section because it isn't much of a romance. And it will also be a short novel! Thanks for reading and let me know what you think . . . it's a little slow the first few chapters but it will pick up
The Fallen and a Spy
Chapter 1
No one could make me feel the way he did. But where was he? He was a figment of my imagination. That's where he was. I sat at the bar stool of the dance club waiting. Hoping. Although, having a guy in my line of work was veyr dangerous. A spy could never truely have a wonderful, magnificant love life. There was always a chance we would never be coming home. Or we would turn up on our door step in little pieces.

The music changed and it was a slow paced dance. I scoffed and prepared myself to leave. I asked for a dry martini, slapped some money on the table and downed the entire drink. No point waiting here when I had a mission to finish. My line of logic was science. Science could explain everything.

I arrived home and had my bags ready to leave at midnight. The mission I was about to go on would defy science. Defy everything I thought I knew so how would it happen? It goes like this:

I awoke at eleven and pulled my hair into a ponytail and wore some comfortable jeans and a black tank top. I snatched a small snack as I drove towards the airport. France was my mission. All I could hope for was to infiltrate the high time weapons smugglers and I would be able to get a promotion and do work mostly in the United states. These people had been smuggling in illegal weapons since the beginning of the United States and French treaty.

I boarded my plane and sat in my assigned seat, a window seat. I felt the plane fill but ignored the commotion. I felt someone sit down next to me and didn't bother sending even a glance their way.

"Hi, I'm Omarii." The person sitting next to me said in an Irish accent.

I glanced over and saw him holding a hand up for me to shake. "Hey." I said. "I'm Merci."

"Cool name. So why you going to France?"

"Business." I shortly said, turning away. This was going to be a long trip.
We were silent. Until he spoke again.

"So what exactly is your business in France?" Omarii questioned.

"What exactly is your concern about what my business is?"

"Just trying for a conversation. I wonder, do you talk to your friends as curtly as you do me?"I sighed in frustration.

"I don't exactly have many friends. My work doesn't permit many friends outside of work. Even then."

"What company do you work for."

"It's not a company. It is sort of a private enterprise." Too much information! I scolded myself and studied this man attempting to converse with me. He had a long hair style, combed back naturally. It was a dark brown or maybe black. He wore a jean jacket over a Falling in Reverse shirt; only later would I realize the irony of that choice. He wore a pair of loose jeans and regular tennis shoes. What could he be doing in France?

"Oh, I see. A home business." Sure, why not let him think that. My blonde locks fell int omy face from my pony tail and I brushed them back. My hair was so bothersome, I truely wanted to chop it all off. There was absolutely no point in keeping something that would get me recognized.

"Do you mind, I'd like some piece and quiet." I said pulling out a book.

"What book is that?" Another frustrated sigh escaped my lips. Temper in check, I reminded myself. No need to show this pathetic civilian what you are cabable of.

"It is a book called Toys by James Patterson."

"Good author. How many of his books have you read?" Omarii lifted the book from my hands and began reading the back.

"Several. I read the Women's Murder Club series. It is was to easy to figure out clues." I snagged the book back and blocked out Omarii as best I could. A seven hour flight and only an hour and a half had passed. Like I mentioned before, a long flight.

"You know, I have been to France before. If you have any free time I could definatly show you around."

"If I wanted to tour I would quite my job. Not possible, so I'll stick with business. Thanks though." I responded, curling my feet underneath me. Nothing was going to make this guy shut up, not even a muzzle.

"Just an offer. I'm on business as well, need o get back to my gang." My ears perked up at that. Was I sitting next to one of the weapon smugglers?

"Gang?" I questioned, worried I was revealing to much intrigue.

"Friends, you know people I hang out with."

"Oh, well I'm from America. You say gang and I think druggie gangsters that have rival gangs. Like Bloods and Crips."

"Nope. Just friends." His Irish accent seemed slightly less annoying and a little more attractive.

No, Rachelle, no thinking about guys. You have a mission to accomplish! Distractions could cost me my life and here was one right next to me. Omarii fell silent thankfully and I returned to my book. The rest of the flight was silent between Omarii and me besides him offering to buy my a drink and my declining it. The stops were wonderful because I got the oppurtunity to stretch and release cramps. When the plane finally landed in France, I automatically put on my game face.

First, I needed to track down a weapon smuggler, then I needed to set up survelliance. Normally, I would have a partner working with me, but infiltration came first for this and then came the partnership. I sighed, grabbed my luggage and made my way to my hotel.
I checked into my hotel and then rode the elevator up to my suite. Even though I was certain that nobody had followed me here on my mission, I shut the curtains just in case . . . in all rooms. After closed the curtains I began setting up my survelliance stuff.

After I had finished setting it up, I stuck a few hand fulls of bugs into my jacket pocket. I placed a few around my suite and then called a cab to come pick me up. I changed into more flexiable clothing like yoga pants and a black spaghetti strap shirt.

The phone rang and I jumped, but then answered to, "Bonjour Madamouselle Merci Tarem. Your taxi has arrived."

"Merci, Monsiuer." I responded then hung up. I snatched up my leather jacket from the desk chair and went down to my cab. A driver holding the sign 'Tarem' stood infront of a blue taxi cab. I strode over, handed him a handful of Euros and climbed into the vehicle. The drive took an hour because of many pedestrians and a few other automobiles. My thoughts strayed towards that guy on the plane. Omarii. He had actually been cute. Had the circumstances been different, I might have given him my number. But then again maybe not after what happens. See he is a very important person.

The water glistened from the sun beautifully. No, I scolded, keep your mind on the mission. I strode towards the boatyard like a normal pedestrian. It was laid with tar and looked absolutely horrid and smelled purtrid. I casually walked towards an electric fence looking around, spotting blind spots on the revolving cameras. I placed a few bugs here and there until I came up to the fence. It was about five feet tall with barbed wire on the top to conduct electricity. I noted when they cameras would be blind to me and then walked back a little bit. I took a running start and pushed myself into high jump. I sailed over the fence, somersaulted in the air and then landed, knees bent and one hand splayed out to stay balanced.

I stood casually as if nothing happened and started roaming around the boat yard placing bugs on as many covert locations as possible. I was nearing the edge of the boat yard and came upon a dinky little boat that was extremelly run down. I heard two voices talking in a foriegn language to me. Perhaps Swedish, perhaps not. I heard another person approaching and hid. The conversation in the presumed Swedish turned to Russian. Good now I could follow along.

"Where is my gun?" The new voice harshly asked. Then again it was Russian so everything sounded rough.

"Not here, we must go somewhere else to make sure we are being cautious." A voice said.

"Where shall we go then?" The third voice asked.

"To my pent house of course." Said the first voice. I heard them begin to move. The boat was not all that tall so I leaped on to gain a better vantage point. Two dark heads and one blonde head poked up at me. I moved to the edge of the boat and prepared for my move. Nothing could change my mind, except perhaps the thought of death, but that was not going to happen. I side flipped over the side of the boat and landed on my feet nicely. Oh how I loved acrobatics, and I got to do them alot with this job of mine.

Three faces looked at me with surprise. "Hey boys," I said in fluent Russian, "how do I get in on this deal?"