At a ruin on the border of Iraq/Iran, a woman wearing a burka is drawing water from a well. Two sleazy, Al-Qaeda types suddenly appear and move in to ambush the woman. It is clear their intentions are vile and murderous. At the last moment, the woman realizing their presence, deftly dodges and wards off the first attacker. She smashes the second in the head with the water bag. As the two men regroup to renew their onslaught, they both become aware of another person. It is a nomadic figure dressed in desert regalia, with a full beard and sun glasses. Speaking in Farsi, the older man says, “Is this your wife?” The younger man excitedly utters, “We didn’t violate her.” The older man contemptuously spouts, “The law says you must produce four witnesses.” The Nomad draws a pistol, shoots both men dead, and fires an extra round into each body, derisively saying “The law does not say that, but there are my four witnesses.” Abruptly, the Nomad says, “Suman bring the water. They should have been here by now.”
As the two move around to the other side of the ruins, they see three American Humvees approaching. Two of the Humvees flank the lead vehicle. As they pull up and stop a half dozen GIs get out of each flanking vehicle. The heavily armed soldiers fan out to secure the immediate area. The lead vehicle stops and a full bird Army Colonel alights. He walks up to the couple while brandishing his side arm.
Then the Nomad, speaking in a woman’s voice in an English accent says reproachfully, “you’re late.” Next with one hand she pulls off her head gear and with the other scrapes off the beard. She barks at the Colonel, “Don’t ask!” The Colonel replies, “Don’t tell.” She continues to strip off the costume. The woman’s name is Oshnadel. She is Egyptian, swarthy, a butch hottie.
It quickly becomes apparent that both women are spies and are wearing jump suits under their disguises
Suman is stripping off the burka and pulls out a pair of sunglasses from her coveralls and puts them on. She is from the west coast of India. She is very black with shoulder length hair, tomboy femme. In a Hindlish accent, but cursing like an educated, American woman, she says, “That thing was so damn hot. Only some mindless idiot of a man would make his wife endure it. Men can be such jerks.”
Oshnadel, angrily says, “Suman, will you give it a rest?”
“Go jam it!” spits Suman, while giving Oshnadel, the finger.
The Colonel speaking into the Humvee says, “Mr. Richards, your team has arrived.”
Richards in an almost exasperated voice, says, “Please get them in out of that God awful sun.”
Suman enters the Humvee, followed by Oshnadel. The Colonel surveys the area and orders, “Gentlemen mount up, we’re pulling out.” He enters the Humvee closing the door behind him. The vehicles start to move.
Once inside, Suman hands Richards a wallet sized, laminated photo, of Osama bin Laden. She points to the picture saying, “The micro dot is on the broach.” Richards replies, “Excellent!” He adds, “Do you know what’s on it?” Suman says, “It’s a report confirming that the uranium being refined is weapons grade or close to it.” Richards replies, “Washington will want to know right away.” Oshnadel says, “I don’t want to be around when Tel Aviv finds out.” The Colonel as a matter of fact utters, “Finds out! The agent who smuggled you the report is probably working for the Israelis.”
At this point, Oshnadel leans back and brushes Suman’s cheek and softly comments. “You have dirt on your face, Sumi. Why are you pouting?” Sumi clutches Oshnadel to her side and just smiles, looking longingly into Oshnadel’s eyes and purrs back, “I’m fine, Ozzie.”
It is now apparent to all the men in the Humvee that their female passengers are lesbian Mata Haris.
The driver of the Humvee, in an aside to the soldier riding shot gun next to him, whispers, “What the world needs is a little more Lezbollah and a lot less Hezbollah.”
The Colonel says, “What was that Sergeant?” The Sergeant replies, “Nothing, Colonel” “Then keep it moving!” “Yes Sir!”