Fair GameA Story by Sami KhalilA sequel to The Gold Mine story...Fair Game
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Sami S. Khalil A sequel to “The Gold Mine” …As Tatiana and I sauntered on the beaches of Crimea (The
Russians picked us a villa), I was dazzled by this doe-eyed beauty and the
magic of the place; an aesthetic painting came to life. Little grief followed
as my wandering thoughts were crafting fantasy, tamed reality interrupted them
with my new job. I was appointed an ambassador to Jamaica with full diplomatic
immunity. The future was burning brighter as destiny was getting
fuller. If you can hold splendor in your hands, you will be eternally detached
from drama. With all of that, I was still a lured spy albeit a “Jazzy Bird”. Tatiana shared with me the taste for
extravagance while hating frumpy clothing. I can’t deny I became somehow
jealous about her. For anyone dared to mess with her, he should expect to get severely
pasted and rendered unconscious (I took up martial arts moving to Russia). One day, as I was fixing the red barn by the villa, a black-tinted
car pulled up, handing me a letter and a suitcase. The letter contained my new
mission while the suitcase was weighed down with flat note(cash). Oh, money can
be a friend or foe; an angel or a fiend. With cryptic instructions, I was set
to find Ian Fleming’s secret unpublished book at “Golden Eye”. It is surmised
to contain a wealth of information on top-secret operations of world war one and
two. It will shed a light on many unsolved mysteries. With lust for adventure, I found rainbows waiting after
stormy times. Hey! Go ahead, mark me condemned, but you know, you would be
laughing at shadows, for I will have the last laugh. Some people collapse in
adversity, others gently fade away into despondency, cradling tiny hopes but
not this speaker for I can squeeze blood out of a turnip bleeding victory over
the mockers unlike a brother I have in New York; unfulfilled, moronic and
boring. No goals, no fulfillment. To be honest, I was wrong giving him those
captions lacking thespian talents (Came to find out later, on his recent visit
to us in Crimea, he gifted me an Apple watch. Little I knew, the CIA
connections. As I wore it on my wrist proudly, I was tracked like temptations,
with no scruples on my part.) Now, it was time to pack and head to the tropical island
(the new job). As we landed at Montego Bay, we were whisked away to our spacious
beach-front cottage, overlooking a private lagoon on this 52-acre retreat. My
lips parted with praise for this heavenly place with no pale imitations or
inferior quality. The “Master Plan” called on me to employ my espionage skills,
using a thermal camera to detect, analyze hidden ink with computer data backing
verifying authenticity. In this case, Ian Fleming’s script. I had a wild
thought. If this man ever crossed my path, we would be like colliding tides of
vagrant souls. One day, I booked the whole suite for me and Tatiana (around
$10000 a night), setting about my search with an unfeigned devotion. With
continued badgering abuse of the camera, I found the book tucked away…I muttered
in jest to Tatiana, followed by a guffaw (She was taking a bath). I hear no
answers so I got worried. I searched high and low to no avail. The pone wrung
suddenly. It was a CIA agent who said: “We got your wife.” He cackled with
laughter along his supercilious confidence. Anxiety ripped my innards out. I had
to fly back to Crimea to plan my next move. My traitor-brother will pay
dearly. She will be forfended at any cost! © 2020 Sami KhalilReviews
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4 Reviews Added on November 12, 2020 Last Updated on November 15, 2020 Author
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