I slipped the key into the lock and felt the familiar click as the lock gave way. I didn't have to think twice about opening the door, this was my home after all and I always took extra special precautions to make sure that I was never followed or that no one ever knew where I lived.
My given name is Steve Dunbar but for more than a decade everyone I've met, known and worked with has known me as Aaron Mitchell. In addition I have dozens of passports that all support diverse names from different countries. At thirty-seven years old I've only had two jobs, both of them proudly serving the country I love. It started when I was eighteen years old and enlisted in the Navy where I rose quickly in the ranks. It was also the last time in my life that I used my given name.
My unique multicultural looks, dark hair and dark eyes, made me an attractive package for an off-shoot, smaller underground agency based at Langley where I was recruited at age twenty-six. My strongest assets have always been a near eidetic mind and the ability to speak seven languages fluently; Spanish, French, Farsi, Russian, Portuguese, Arabic and Hebrew. I have also perfected the intonations each language requires to make it sound like whatever I'm speaking is my native language.
I immediately relax the moment I step into my house. It's been over six months since I've been here. I walk from room to room of my little oasis away from everything relishing being alone. I guess it takes coming home to realize how much you've missed it. It's very rare that I get more than two days off in a row when I'm back in the states but for some reason when I was called back to Washington after my last debriefing I was told to take this extended time off, four days in a row, before reporting to Langley.
I bought the house under the guise of a shell company and paid cash up front. All of the utilities are on automatic payment and are paid from the same company that bought the house. The paperwork from the company leads to person, albeit fictitious, that lives a supposed retired quiet sedate life in Rio de Janeiro Brazil. I've been trained that it is vital that I never leave a trail to the real me or any of the other persona's I have. Over the years I have become fastidious about keeping my private life secure.
I utilize a management company to tend to my house in Fredericksburg. Whenever I know I'm going to be in town for a few days I call well in advance to have the place cleaned and to stock the refrigerator. They've never met me. To them, like many of their clients, I'm just a heavily accented voice on the phone.
Like I've said, I tend to over think protecting Steve Dunbar.
The first few years I lived as Aaron Mitchell I didn't fully comprehend why it was so important to keep Steve Dunbar buried away from everything. It was only after I made my first real enemy that I came to realize one day I would retire from my life as Aaron Mitchell and with proper precautions I would have the luxury of picking up Steven Dunbar's life with the hopes that no one will ever be the wiser. My employer knew exactly what he was doing when he built these so called new identities for all us. Besides a healthy offshore bank account and great government retirement benefits Steve Dunbar is the only thing I will have when this insanity of my current life ends.
Aaron Mitchell, who spends very little time in the United States, rents a small efficiency apartment over a carriage house on an Alexandria Virginia estate. It is a place to lay my head when I'm working out of Langley with the biggest advantage being I have a place to garage my SUV when I'm out of town. Plus there aren't any nosey neighbors bothering me and asking me questions where I've been and what I do for a living.
My biggest passion, however, sits in a pampered climate controlled parking facility in Washington. A fully restored classic Ford Mustang. This car belongs to Steve Dunbar and when I have time off I use it as my getaway vehicle. I'm aware that everything in my Aaron Mitchell life is monitored so whenever I decide to breakaway I leave the SUV in the carriage house garage and take the Metrorail into the city. I don't even pack a bag. When I leave my house I don't take anything with me, not even my wallet. Even the clothes I wear are secreted away from the rest of Aaron Mitchell's meager possessions.
In the bedroom I stripped off my clothes and headed to the shower. I just arrived back from London hours earlier and didn't bother to shower at my Alexandria apartment. I just dropped my stuff off, changed into my 'escape' clothes and hightailed it to the Metro.
The shower felt good pounding down on my road weary body and I had begun a dialogue of thoughts speaking them out loud. This was my way of retraining myself to speak English again after having been deep undercover in Syria for the past six months as import/export expert Ivan Sergovei. My operation was simple - work my way into the higher echelon of the Syrian government and collect as much information on the structures and workings as I could.
I never had any qualms about doing whatever it took to get results that were required of me. I had worked for months gathering intel on the people I was to be associated with looking for the one person with that preverbal chink in their armor to give me the 'in' I was looking for. It could have been anything, from drugs, to jewels...even the occasional foray into the darker depths of sexual enticements. Luckily I found my mark early when I came across General Al-Aswaner, one of the higher ranking Generals that had aspirations of stepping up his role in the government's future.
I found out that his major weakness in life was men.
Even now, close to six weeks after leaving Syria,just thinking about Al, as I called him, made my dick hard. Before going to Syria I had never been with a man, other than the occasional fantasy, but had often considered experimenting.
Thinking about it now I think I always knew that I was going to go down this path one day. I had always appreciated good looking men and secretly loved to watch gay porn. I loved looking at all those beautiful cocks of all different shapes and sizes. I was particularly drawn to men with big thick cocks and lots of hair on their body and for some reason just looking at Al I knew he was going to fit the bill.
Putting my ego aside, one of my better assets that has allowed me to succeed in my job was my ability to use sex as a weapon. I was the type of man the exuded raw sex appeal and often found both men and woman attracted to me. As a heterosexual male I could seduce a woman with a blink of an eye and with my tongue alone I could garner any information out of them. I looked forward to seeing if these traits held true for men as well. There were no doubts and no hesitation in my decision to take this next step - especially after seeing Al across the room that first day.
I had arrived in Syria two days earlier and had settled into my little apartment I had taken in Damascus close to the military offices and the General's private residence. I had also successfully wrangled an invitation to a luncheon, which I knew the General would be attending, on the economic growth and future of the Syrian government. Prior to the luncheon starting there was a brief meet-and-greet where I walked around introducing myself to the attendees, including the General.
