She checked again. It has to be in there! It was the third time she went through her purse.
“I really need to see your passport!”
She could hear how impatient he was getting. It has to be in here. It was when she left. And now it seemed to have disappeared.
Damn it, she thought. With shaking hands, she went through her tote another time, hoping for a miracle that her passport was just hiding in the depth of the bag. She still didn’t understand why he needed her passport to make a fake one and why they had to do it at such a shady warehouse.
“Won’t you take any other form of ID?” Something rattled as she spoke but she remained calm. Not much frightened her anymore.
“No, ma’am. You want fake passport, I need real passport.” He said in a prominent Russian accent.
That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard, she thought and this wasn’t her first time getting a fake passport. The perks of being a spy, you get as many identities as you desired, as long as you complete the job.
In the past, she had acquired her passports from Milan, an ex-Russian spy during the war but Milan was unfortunately killed a month ago. Also the danger of being a spy. So she had no choice and her agency was the one recommended Misha whom she knew nothing about.
“Why do you need my real passport in the first place?” She asked Misha.
“To do this.” From his back pocket, Misha, pulled a gun and aimed it at her head.
Instinctively, she threw her hands up, her tote fell with a clatter. “What are you doing?”
“I know who you are, Ava Andersen. My sources told me.” She narrowed her eyes. Damn, why didn’t I saw that thing in his ear? This guy isn’t here to make me a fake passport. Wait, did he just called me Ava Andersen? Misha chuckled wryly. “My sources also tells me you have a gun in that large bag of yours.”
Ava shrugged. “So? I carry it for emergency.” She grinned. He nor his sources doesn’t know crap about me. He only knows me by one of my many alias, created by the genius, Milan. Nor does he know that gun in my bag’s only a backup.
He laughed, “Well, does this classify as an emergency?”
Ava shrugged again. “Not really.”
“Do you know, Ava Andersen, why I am doing this?”
Nope nor do I care. Before Misha could say more, Ava pulled her gun from the inside pocket of her jacket and fired, skillfully aimed at Misha’s chest. He fell limply backward while the warehouse suddenly filled with a loud rattle as men in black masks jumped out of nowhere and landed around Ava, each one carried powerful guns.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She muttered as she snatched her backup pistol and began aiming randomly but she grew tired fast. There’s too many, she thought, tired and then her salvation came. A familiar black Humvee burst through the steel door and a man jumped from it. It was her partner and husband, Blaine, and he had brought rifles.
Ava dodged several bullets as she made her way to Blaine. “Are you alright?” She nodded, threw her empty guns onto the ground and grabbed a rifle.
“How did you know where I was?” Ava asked as they climbed back into Humvee about 15 minutes later.
“I’m your husband, remember?” She rolled her eyes. “Besides, I grew worried when you’re not home. So I asked the agency and they discovered someone had hacked into their network and arranged a meeting for you to meet with someone name Misha.”
“So Misha wasn’t the agent that replaced Milan?” He shook his head.
“No, Milan’s replacement is someone name Robert. Misha arranged the meeting to kill you because you were the one who got his sister killed five years ago.”
“Sasha’s his sister?” Blaine nodded. “I guess that proves it. Siblings stand by each other.” Except for my sister, of course.