Bombay to Karachi flight:
The woman mashed his toes as she squeezed by to the window seat. She was disturbingly attractive, even in her square-cut gray flannel business suit. Her lavender scarf, pinned by a cameo, barely hid the uplands of deep cleavage. Her tight skirt rode up over suntanned swimmer's calves.
She isn't wearing lipstick or makeup.
He held his breath until she passed. Breathing, he pulled in nectar that tingled his senses.
"That's great perfume you're wearing."
"Oh? I'm not wearing perfume ... I never wear perfume!"
Well Lady, it ain't BO.
One stewardess poured coffee, another collected plastic plates, wrappers and leftovers. His seatmate gave him a penetrating look as she passed her plate. He looked down, away from her probing eyes.
David Dean wanted to believe that by boarding the Pakistan flight he was leaving Dan Hill's CIA manipulations behind. India fell away, but he sensed his problems had not.
She turned toward him, scrunching sideways in her seat.
"Dean, let's cut the crap. I'm no good at games."
He stared at her.
She knows me? Another CIA handler? What games?
"No bad deed goes un-rewarded you know. They're using you for their own gain. They won't let you go, you're their pawn."
She leaned toward him as she spoke, her face within inches of his. He heard her words, but it took moments to jog cognition.
"I…."
"You don't need to say anything. I'm with you now - and just so you understand, there is nothing I don't know about you."
She glared at him. He looked away.
"I know who you are, that years ago you were put in a state mental hospital, what foods you prefer, what you read, how you teach, what happened to your mother, and exactly - I mean exactly - how you make love. There is nothing about you I don't know and you better get used to it. I'm with you now." She paused, studying his reaction. "No, I'm not one of Hill's CIA handlers sent to provide physical therapy like that nitwit Tanya Horowitz."
"I…."
"Don't talk. Listen! I've studied you. I've come to like you. That's good for you and me."
Pretending to adjust her scarf, she drew attention to her cleavage.
"I represent people you only imagine exist. Money and power beyond anything a schoolteacher from Colorado could ever imagine. I'm better educated, more versed in world events and politics than anyone you will ever meet. I'm the best thing that has ever happened to you. Now tell me something. Did you really think the CIA and their cronies would let you go?"