Lady Death

The rear cabin was sealed so the driver heard nothing of their conversation.
“Let’s talk to the DCI when we get back,” Rogers said. “He can call POTUS direct. Sometime today, I’d suspect. The president has a light schedule.”
“You checked?”
Rogers laughed. “For this case? You bet your ass I checked.”
“The Sukkariyeh situation still bothers me.”
“We need another solution than a drone strike, Chris.”
“Tac team? Full crew, hit the building hard, grab intelligence and maybe a prisoner.”
“Can your people pull it off?”
“Of course.”
Rogers nodded. “Then we will propose it to the president as well.”
“Good.”
The vehicle moved through the stop-and-go traffic. Fisher stared through the tinted window beside him. He felt no sense of accomplishment. The grilling had been intense. But they’d met their objective. The White Widow would soon be no more. She wouldn’t leave Syria alive.
Tanya Jafari said, “Are you going to stare at me or hand me a piece of paper?”
As if on cue, the conference room door opened. A younger man in a suit, holding his tie in place, entered. He stayed long enough to pass Wilson a folder. Wilson thanked the man, who quickly departed. The door clicked shut once again.
Wilson slid the folder across the table to Tanya.
“There’s your deal.”
She opened the folder. A small stack of stapled sheets lay inside. Short block paragraphs filled each page.
“It’s like a contract,” Wilson explained. “It’s a take it or leave it proposition. We already have what we need from you, so personally, I don’t care what you do. If you want resettlement in the United States, I suggest you sign on the last page.”
Tanya glared at him, then returned to the pages. She intended to read every word. If he wanted to play bad cop and pressure her, she could make him wait.
“I’ll sum it up for you,” Wilson said. “You stay here until we determine your usefulness is at an end. You get to pick where you go after. We’ll give you money and set you up with a job. New name, new identity. After that, you’re on your own. There will be periodic check-ins and an emergency number to call if you think you’re in danger.”
Tanya shook her head as she read each page. She grew more frustrated with every word Wilson spoke. With a scoff, she finally turned to the last, scribbled her signature, and passed the folder to Wilson.
“Fine.”
Wilson moved the folder away from him.
“Now,” he said, “first question. Tell us your background. Where you were born, all that.”
Tanya folded her arms.

14
Raven leaned against the wall and listened.
“I was born Tanya Distel in Berlin.” She gave the year. “My father is Michael Distel. He’s runs a janitorial company.”
“Your mother?” Wilson said.
“She’s dead.”
“How?”
“Car accident when I was young.”
“I’m sorry. Siblings?”
“None.”
Raven drank down the last of his water bottle as she went into her education background. Kindergarten to high school to university. She met her late boyfriend through a friend while working for her father’s company.
Raven crossed the room to a waste basket and set the empty water bottle inside.
The table phone rang, interrupting the conversation.
Wilson picked up. “Yes?”
He listened.
“Great news. Do you need me back at Langley?”
He listened some more.
“All right. No, we just started. See you in a few hours.”
Wilson hung up.
Raven said, “Who called?”
“Fisher. They had a few challenges with the intelligence committee, but the panel voted in their favor. A termination protocol has officially been issued for Francesca Sloan. He’ll meet with the president in two hours to get the final authorization.”
“Excellent news,” Raven said.
“Take good pictures,” Tanya added. “I’ll be able to identify the body.”
“I bet this pleases you,” Wilson said.
“You’ll be taking a target off my back.”
“Are you sure?” Wilson said. “Your former comrades will make the connection. We may have put a bigger target on your back.”
“Do your part, and I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Wilson smiled. “You can trust us. Now, let’s get back on track. Did you know Francesca Sloan prior to joining the Islamic Union?”
“No. But we bonded at the training camp. Similar recruitment, motivation. They kept us separated from the men, so we didn’t get to see our boyfriends much.”
“Your boyfriend, her husband?”
“Right. They were already married when she arrived.”
“What did she tell you about her history?”
“We didn’t dwell on the past,” Tanya said. “The only thing we thought about was the future.”
“Uh-huh.”
The probing carried on for another hour. Raven eventually sat away from the trio at the end of the table to continue observing.
He checked his Rolex, and realized he’d forgotten to adjust for US time. Six hours vanished from the clock. He didn’t feel tired, but instead mentally fogged. Flying “back in time” caused the confusion. In a few hours, he expected it to pass.
Harmony Moyer, typing into her laptop as the conversation carried on, remained focused on her screen. She showed no reaction or emotion to the words said. Raven bet she’d heard a few doozies in her time.
Another hour ticked by, and they broke for lunch. Wilson led them into the break room, a sterile affair with Formica tables and hard plastic chairs. Wilson had ordered fast food burgers, fries, Cokes, nothing fancy, but hot and good.
They finished eating. Wilson called for a uniformed female officer and gave her instructions to show Tanya to her quarters. The women departed.
“It’s not the Ritz,” Wilson explained to Raven, “but the accommodations aren’t terrible. She’ll have a private bathroom too.”
Wilson filled two cups at the coffee machine. One cup of black coffee for him, hot water to Raven. Raven tore open a bag of Bigelow Green Tea and dipped into the water.
“What do you think so far?” Raven said.
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Wilson said, adjusting his chair closer to the table. “What matters is how her story checks out. We’ll check her history backwards and forwards.”
“Wasn’t the deal a little premature?” Raven said.
“She didn’t read the last page.” Wilson grinned.
“What’s on the last page?”
“The fine print. We can nullify the deal if she lies to us.”
Raven nodded. “I think she’ll check