Yehudah stepped off the plane and breezed through security as always. Despite his face-- for some reason always more disturbing in an airport-- his Mossad ID seemed to speak louder than his scars. Moving towards the windows, he flipped open his phone and turned it on, watching and waiting for it to find a signal and the inevitable count of messages. He was relieved to see one voice message, curious to see a second. Leaning against the wall, he put the wall to his ear and turned his attention to the phone while his eye followed those of a young child who was staring at the left side of his face with a kind of curious awe while being pulled along by his mother.

The first was, as he had hoped, from a diplomat working with the CIA relaying messages between them and Mossad regarding his ability to contact the agents who had been split from Jessica Bishop. The second, however, proved to be far more interesting: Intelligence as to the target's possible whereabouts. Yehudah's eyes widened and he immediately straightened, staring unseeingly ahead of him as he clung to every word in the message.

The CIA would have to wait.

The phone rang in room two two seven of the Hotel Cap Estel, located east of Monte Carlo on the Moroccan cost. Jean Claude Rennie‘ reached over and picked up the receiver “ Bonjour.” he said. The cold business like voice of the phone spoke rapidly in French. “Il apparaît que notre ami américain s'est obtenu dans l'ennui encore.” The voice spoke again explaining a problem the French government had, involving a large quantity of a biological toxin, that had been stolen, and the fact that the Director of the CIA, Lee Darius and an a British Agent for MI6, Wayland Forest known to be working with the CIA, had mysteriously vanished. The voice on the phone went on to explain that CIA Agent Michael Degarrio was thought to be in the company of a Mossad operative known as Jessica Bishop. And that Director Darius, Michael, Jessica, Wayland had all been working together and had been in contact with a suspected triple agent, Angelic Dupree. Jean raised his eyebrows at this information. They had obtained some information from Madame Dupree Shortly after that they Director and Agent Forest vanished. Jean said “Cela est plus s'intéressant, je verrai que je peux découvrir.” The phone went dead and Jean hung it up. He stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the Mediterranean, he thought to himself (What is going on Michael Degarrio, what information did you obtain from DGSE Agent Dupree?)

Jean called down to the desk and requested his car, he then packed his suitcase and went down to the lobby to check out.

As Jean Claude finished checking out and walked to the doors of the hotel, the parking valette drove his black Mercedes E Class Sedan up. As the valette stepped out of the vehicle, Jean was walking around the rear bumper, after placing his suit case and two suiter in the trunk. Carrying a small black lap top case, tgo the drivers side door, tipped the young man and slid into the driver's seat. After the valette closed the drivers door, Jeadm drove out onto Vilefrance sur Bord de Mar and out past the airport, then turned west on Boulevard de la Page towards Cannes, then along the coast, scanning the Medeterranean on his left from time to time.

As Jean Claude's eyes shited from the winding coastal road and the Mediterranian along the coast line, he began to see the faint orange flashes of light moving across the water. He pulled off the side o the road and stepped out of his E-Class Mercedees. He heard the roar of an offshore boat, the whine of outboard engines and the sound of what was obviously machine gun fire. He jumped back into the Mercedees and sped down the coast road looking for an access road to the beach.

Out on the Med, 50 caliber bulletts danced across the deck at Jesican's feet, shattering fiberglass and missing her by inches, then walked up and across the dash of the helms station to the left of Michael. Another line o bulletts danced across the water and through the hull of the speeding offshore cruiser just above the waterline. Michael manuvered the slowing craft in an evasive pattern toward the beach as the port engine sputtered and coughed smoke. Michael looked at Jessica and said "Looks like we go for a swim." He tien off the helm, and ran below. There he set the timers of the charges he had set in the engine compartment, hurried up the companionway, threw four water tight case out on the deck and stepped out and over to the wheel. "Six minutes" he shouted to Jessica as he took hold of the wheel.

Jess was growing increasingly angered at the persistent pursuers that dogged her and Michael now. She cared little for being the target of such a manhunt and the more they tried to eliminate her and Michael the m ore she was believing it was some way to silence them for something or make them the fall agents for something gone awry. Either way it insured she and Michael would not be able to rest until they reached a safe house under the cover of darkness. Things were just too risky in broad daylight now.

As the bullets danced across the fiberglass deck of the boat deck she cursed under her breath in Israeli. Taking careful aim at the dark shadows quickly advancing upon them now that the boat began to slow, she fired off several shots at all of the approaching boats. When she was out of ammo that’s when Michael decided it was time to go.

As Michael set the timers on the engine charges he’d made earlier, Jess lit one of the Molotov cocktails she made earlier and threw it at the approaching boat. The bottle sailed thru the air and landed on the forward craft exploding in a flash of orange.

She was getting ready to light another one when she heard the sound of gun fire and felt a white hot pain in her shoulder. The impact of the bullet to her body threw her forward almost into Michael as he came back from the companionway. As he steadied her back on her feet, she looked back at the boats then looked to Michael and nodded.

”Come on….let’s let this bitch blow. The timing should be perfect.”

Seeing the look on Michael’s face, she furrowed her brows and nodded.

”Just a scratch. I’ll be fine. Come one….let’s go….please, Michael….no arguments.”

As the boats grew closer, she made her way over to the side of the boat and waited for Michael to give her the signal. As she waited for what seemed like forever for Michael to give the signal for the abandon ship she heard the sound of gun fire erupt once again and a look cross Michael’s face that made her realize her darkest fear had come true.

Michael had been shot.

Michael, reached down for one of the abandon ship bags he had prepared , when he felt a searing hot pain in his left hip, an instant later he could not make his right hand grip the bag. A grimace of pain crossed his face for a micro second. For the first time in his life, Michael felt the cold hand of fear on his shoulder. "Was this how it was all to end?" he thought to himself. Glancing up he saw Jessie standing at the rail of the boat. "Go he shouted!" as he reached down with his left hand and tossed the bags over the rail. Jessie jumped and Michael followed a brief moment later, clearing the rail, just has the offshore cruiser exploded in smoke and fire. Michael could feel the heat as he hit the water.

As Yehudah pulled around the road's bend to see the sun bleeding out over the water's horizon, he silently cursed himself for taking so long to get here. Though he knew there was little he could have done to expedite the relaxed attitude that seemed to carry over every staff member in or around the airport, he couldn't help but wonder. Still, he sped down the road, drifting around another bend in the road as the beach moved alongside him, parallel and mocking him. The Mossad agent was patient, of course. He had to be.

Suddenly, another flash of fiery orange caught his eye. Something that didn't quite contrast with the slowly setting sun, but didn't exactly blend in either. Pulling the rental car over, he turned his sharp eyes towards the water and narrowed them so hard, he felt the rough scars on the side of his face pull against the strained, hardened skin. Slamming his foot down on the gas pedal, the car growled as Yehudah moved down the road at about the speed of his own reactions, all the while flicking his head periodically in the direction of the beach. He had to keep an eye on the flaming object in the water. Unfortunately, his scarred one was the one that faced the window and his periphery was nothing but a frustrating white blur.

Yehudah was just starting to seriously entertain the idea of jumping the guardrail and trying his luck with plummeting over the road's rocky side when he came across it: An access road to the water just big enough for a small car and an attached boat. He floored the pedal now and checked the water again. When he turned back, however, there was more than just a road in front of him. Slamming his foot down on the breaks, Yehudah slid down the uneven road, barreling towards the Mercedes that was crawling its way into the access road (as far as Yehudah was concerned). His rental unwilling to slow down, Yehudah wrenched his wheel at the last second and spun away from the Mercedes, the rental's tail whipping out and stopping within centimeters of the other car.

"Shit!" Yehudah swore in Hebrew, "hurry up!" The other driver sped up upon Yehudah's approach and pulled down onto the beach only to come to a stop about where Yehudah was going to park. Another swear hissed from the Mossad agent's lips as he paused, re-thinking his position and praying the rich idiot with his stupid, overpriced car would move along and find another place to park. Yehudah didn't really want to have to work around idiot bystanders. Glancing at the water again, he knew didn't have much time so he instead sped down the access ramp and parked on the other side of it. He decided to try to pull the authority card and see if he could get the guy to move. But first, he had to check and see. As he hastily parked, Yehudah pulled out a pair of binoculars and pointed it at the direction of the flames that sat on the water's surface. Gliding his line of sight around the area of the flames, he could clearly see it was a boat that looked like it had been in quite the little conflict. Adjusting his focus, Yehudah could also see the white trails of other boats that seemed to be closing in on it. All good signs, but not exactly what he wanted. Any trained Mossad agent would have abandoned such a wreck, which meant, if he hadn't taken as long as he'd thought, there was nowhere else for the potential victims to go except . . . aah, there they were. Swimming for dear life through the water.

Yehudah tried to focus his binoculars on one or the other but it was impossible to identify them when they were splashing and dipping into the water. Still, he watched them for another moment, picking out the way they were swimming. It was purposeful, if not slightly jerky... perhaps they were injured? Still, there was enough for an evasive look to it, a little too much skill, for Yehudah to feel confident enough to put down his binoculars, a satisfied curl at the corner of his mouth. He had them in his sights, he just had to be careful. This may be easier than he thought. But first, he needed to get rid of this witness. Stepping away from the car, Yehudah held up his badge so that it caught the light and moved toward the Mercedes.

"Excuse me, sir!" he called out, hoping the driver would not pick up on his Israeli accent and start asking annoying questions. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to move."

Jessica had come close to losing her life before now but this was the first time she could actually feel the icy fingers of death closing around her. To make matters worse it seemed as though Michael was going to be dragged in with her. How was that fair? He hadn’t done anything to deserve losing his life. For the love of God please don’t let this be the end.

As Michael hit the water and the boat exploded into splinters and debris, Jessica ducked beneath the water’s surface to keep from getting burned by the fire ball that expanded out over the water. She could feel the percussion from the blast in the water and it was all she could do to maintain her buoyancy. When her head broke the surface of the water again she sucked in a large volume of air and frantically began searching for Michael.

A shadow bobbed in the water a few yards away from her and she made her way towards it hoping it would be the dark, wet head of her friend and fellow agent. Unfortunately it was one of the waterproof cases Michael tossed over just before he dove in. As she painfully treaded water she turned on all directions looking for Michael. She was about to call out for him when she was pulled under when her ankle was grabbed from beneath.

Looking at her ankle in the darkened waters she could just make out Michael’s face and she quickly reached for him and dragged him to the water’s surface. As soon as both of their faces were free from the water they gulped in air. Michael was barely holding on and Jess could tell from the glazed look in his eyes he was fading faster than she liked. Looking around at the situation she acted quickly.

”Hold on Michael…..The shore isn’t too far of a swim….we can make it…”

Taking Michael’s belt from his trousers, she used it to gather up the cases and loop them together and use them as a flotation device. Holding Michael’s head above water with her wounded arm she used her good hand to hold onto the strap and keep them both above water as she began to kick with her feet and get them to the shore.

Question was…..what would happen first? Would she reach the shore before the crew of the one remaining boat regained their senses and started looking for them or would the crew reach her before she could get her feet on any sort of dry land?