The Spy Who Loved Me

The plane taxied to a halt at the gate, and I released my lap strap and got up.

"First class passengers get off first," grinned Tim.

We made our way out of the plane, thanking the cabin crew, and along a corridor with signs to the baggage reclaim area.

"How's your German?" asked Tim.

I snorted. "Guten morgen, danke schön."

He smiled. "No problem, leave it to me."

We reached the carousel and Tim quickly retrieved our cases, piling them on a trolley. We made our way to the immigration desks and Tim presented our passports.

"Mr and Mrs Scott, ja, welcome to Switzerland."

I realised I'd been holding my breath, and flashed a smile at the immigration official as we passed. We walked out of the airport into the late evening, and I looked around.

"It feels like it ought to be mid-afternoon," I said.

Tim grinned. "Wait till we're flying the other way – that feels even stranger." He hailed a taxi, giving the name of our hotel.

"Beth really is good at arranging things," he said.

The taxi pulled up outside the hotel and a uniformed porter took our luggage. I followed Tim to the reception desk, and tried to pick out a few words from his rapid conversation with the receptionist. It didn't sound like the German I'd tried to learn at school, and I remembered reading somewhere that the Swiss dialect was quite different. I decided that Tim must have a talent for languages.

He turned to me. "All sorted. Do you want to change, or go straight in for dinner?"

I thought for a moment. "I think I'd like to eat straight away – then we have to try and sleep, right?"

He nodded. "You'll be fine."

We went through to the restaurant and were seated straight away. The waiter brought what was obviously a wine list, and Tim looked carefully before ordering.

I looked at the menu, but as I'd expected I couldn't make any sense of it. "Help me out here, Tim," I said.

He glanced up, smiling. "Don't forget our cover," he said in a low voice.

"Oops," I said quietly, then louder, "So, Tom, what do you recommend?"

He pointed about half way down the page. "This is a veal dish – a real speciality."

"OK," I said.

The waiter approached, and Tim ordered for us, then turned back to me. "I have meetings tomorrow, but I'll contact the local office – I'm sure someone will be available to show you round."

I hesitated, then nodded, realising that the 'local office' would be the Geneva branch of Tim's agency. This was turning out to be harder than I thought.

Our food arrived, and I ate with relish. "How do you not put on weight in this job?" I asked.

Tim smiled. "All that time at the gym, darling."

I felt a thrill go through me at his words, even though I knew they were part of our charade. I concentrated on eating, and took a sip of the wine.

"This is lovely," I said. "Not like we had in France at all."

Tim raised his eyebrows at my improvisation, but played along. "Are you thinking of Paris, or Lille?"

"Oh, Paris, definitely. Lille was dull."

We finished our main course, and Tim said, "Dessert, darling?"

I shook my head, draining my wineglass. "I'm starting to feel like I could sleep – shall we go upstairs?"

We took the lift to our floor, and Tim opened the door with the keycard. Our cases were already on the double bed, and Tim took off his jacket, hanging it on the door. I watched, fascinated, as he removed his holster, putting in the drawer of one of the bedside tables.

Tim turned to me hesitantly. "I guess you'll want some privacy to change? I'll go in the bathroom..."

I shook my head, smiling. "I grew up with two sisters and a brother – privacy didn't get much of a look in. You change first." Tim undressed with seeming reluctance, watching my face, then broke eye contact and turned his back to me as he removed his y-fronts. He pulled on shorts and a t-shirt, and with his back still turned, said, "OK, your turn. Tell me when I can look again."

I quickly undressed down to my panties, then pulled on the long t-shirt Beth had found for me. "You're safe."

Tim turned hesitantly. "OK," he said. "Which side of the bed do you want?"

"That one," I said, pointing to the opposite side from where he'd concealed his gun.

Tim got in, lying with his back to me, and I laid beside him, being careful not to let our bodies touch. He reached over to the light switch and plunged the room into darkness.

We were silent for a while, then I said, "Tim?"

"Hmm?"

"When was the last time you spent the night with someone?"

He paused. "Once or twice Beth and I have spelled each other watching on a stakeout – but before that, a couple of years."

I waited before asking my next question. "Tim, did your wife really leave you?"

He was silent for a long time, then: "No, that's part of the cover."

"What happened?"

Again there was a long pause. "She was killed. She was an agent too."

I reached out to touch his shoulder. "Tell me."

"We were in a hostage situation – an armed robbery at a bank. We had the situation under control, then one of the gang let off a shot – it hit Sarah in the chest. I dropped him where he stood."

"You killed him?"

"That's the rules," Tim said, with no hint of defensiveness. "He fired first, he'd put an agent down, he was still holding a live weapon."

I took a chance, and moved closer to him, wrapping my arms around him. He turned to face me, and I felt him bury his head in my shoulder. After a moment I felt his tears on my skin, and I held him more tightly.

He lifted his head. "Thanks," he said. "I don't often talk about it."

"You can talk to me anytime," I said.

I placed a hesitant kiss on his hair. "Do you want to sleep like this?"

He nodded, and I settled myself more comfortably into the pillow. Soon I heard his breathing slow, and I drifted off to sleep myself...

I woke in the early morning light. "I have to go to the bathroom," I said, gently pulling away.

When I returned, Tim was lying in the bed propped up on one elbow. He looked up at me.

"That's the best night's sleep I've had in months," he said. "I'm glad," I said. "You want to shower before breakfast?"

He nodded, and I returned to the bed while he went through to the bathroom. I heard water splashing for a while, then he returned in a hotel bathrobe. "Your turn."

I took my time showering, and by the time I returned Tim was already dressed, the telltale bulge of his gun just showing beneath his jacket.

"You don't need to close your eyes while I dress," I said, and I unwrapped my bathrobe, laying it over the back of a chair. I sensed Tim's eyes on me as I walked over to my suitcase and found clothes for the day, then dressed.

"Beth got these jeans just right," I said, looking at myself in the mirror.

Tim nodded. "They do make the most of your legs... and other things."

I turned to him, grinning. "You really are starting to relax, aren't you."

He nodded, then his face turned serious. "But I still have to get the information I came for. Let's have some breakfast, then I'll take you over to the office."

We went down the stairs to the dining room, and I looked at what was on offer.

"This must be what they mean by a continental breakfast," I said, indicating cold meat, cheeses, pickles. "Not sure if it's my cup of tea."

"There's fruit spread, and honey," pointed Tim. "Try the different rolls, they're great, especially the ones with the seeds on."

In the end I managed a good breakfast, and the coffee was excellent. I drained my cup, and said, "OK, let's go."

We left the hotel, walking down cobbled streets until we reached a narrow door between two shops. I looked at the brass plate, making out one word I thought I recognised.

"Handel, that's 'trade', isn't it?"

Tim nodded. "Not quite Universal Exports, but the idea is the same – the office does some legitimate business, enough to divert attention."

We went through the door and up a flight of uneven stairs. When we reached the first floor, we turned in to a small office, occupied by a slim, blonde-haired girl in what looked like a variant of local costume.

"Tim," she said warmly, letting me know that our cover was not needed here.

"Hi, Johanna. This is Jenny – alias for this trip Jane Scott," explained Tim. "It would be really helpful if you could show her around, keep up our cover, while I dig around to see what I can find."

Johanna smiled. "Of course. I'm always glad to show off the treasures of our city."

A door at the other end of the office opened and a heavy-set man emerged. "Tim," he said, obviously pleased. "Good to see you. And this is your new partner?"

Tim hesitated. "Jenny and I are still working that out."

"Well, good luck." And with that he disappeared back into his office.

Tim turned back to me. "I'll call Johanna later to let her know what's happening – meanwhile, enjoy the city, get some lunch when you feel like it."

I listened to his footsteps recede down the stairs, then heard the outer door open and close.

"Come on," said Johanna enthusiastically. "Let's go."

I followed her down the stairs to the street, glancing up and down but seeing no sign of Tim. We turned left, and as we walked toward an open square, Johanna asked me about myself.

"What did you do before you met Tim?"

I smiled wryly. "I was a waitress in a diner – pouring coffee, taking orders, wiping tables."

I thought for a moment. "I seem to have walked away from that job pretty thoroughly."

"Don't worry," said Johanna reassuringly. "The agency is pretty good at looking after people who get involved by accident."

"I sure hope so," I said. "But from what I've seen of Tim, he'd make it his job to make sure I was OK even if the agency didn't."

Johanna grinned. "Yes, I can tell Tim thinks you're special."

"He told me about his wife," I said.

Johanna nodded. "It was terrible."

We reached the square, and Johanna said with a smile, "This is where I get to play tour guide. This is the Place Neuve – one of the most famous places in the city. In the centre is a statue of a famous general, Henri Dufour, and there's the Music Conservatory. On that side is the Grand Opera Theatre."

She grinned. "The guidebooks also say that the cafés here are fantastic, and they're not wrong. Is it too early for lunch, would you prefer coffee and cake?"

"Cake sounds nice," I said.

I realised I had no money, or any cards I could use here. I turned to Johanna, embarrassed. "I don't expect you to pay for everything – please, tell Tim when we get back what my share is."

She smiled. "Don't worry. This all comes under the heading of expenses – Tim's on assignment, at the very least you're part of his cover."

I wondered what she meant by 'at the very least', but dismissed the thought as we reached an attractive café with tables outside.

We sat down, and almost immediately a waiter approached us. He glanced at me, then at Johanna, clearly trying to decide what language to pick to address us.

He settled on something that sounded much more like the German I'd studied in school, and Johanna responded in kind. I heard 'Kaffee', and then something with 'Torte' – I remembered that was cake.

The waiter nodded, closing his order pad, and for a moment my mind flashed back to the diner on Fifty-Fourth Street.

"Johanna," I said, "everything was such a blur when I left – what will happen if my boss gets curious as to why I haven't let him know I'm not at work?" She gave a wry smile. "I'm sure Beth will have come up with something – given what's just happened over there, there'll be a lot of people whose lives have been disrupted. Wait till you get back and you know what you want to do, the agency will help you come up with a cover that will work."

She glanced up. "Anyway, here comes our cake. Try not to worry about it – enjoy the time off."

I picked up my fork to try the cake. "Wow, this is amazing."

Johanna grinned. "It's actually a Viennese speciality, but it seems to have become popular everywhere."

When we'd finished, Johanna paid, and we walked around the square as she pointed out various features of the ornate buildings.

"There's a museum just around the corner," she said. "Would you like to take a look?"

We walked to the museum, and Johanna proved to have an immense store of knowledge about all the exhibits. We moved from room to room, and I lost track of time.

When we emerged back onto the street, I glanced up at the clock on one of the towers. "Gosh, it's nearly two – have we missed lunch?"

Johanna was about to reply when her mobile phone rang. Pulling it from her pocket, she held it to her ear. "Tim, hi."

I felt myself relax, though I hadn't realised I'd tensed up at the sound of the phone.

"OK, we'll meet you there," said Johanna, ending the call.

She turned to me. "Tim seems to have found what he needed – we'll meet him for lunch."

We walked back to the square, and I saw Tim's familiar figure coming towards us.

This time I remembered to drop into my persona. "Hello, darling," I said, hoping I wasn't overacting. "How was your meeting? Johanna here has shown me some lovely places, and you really must try the – what was it, Johanna?"

She grinned, and I saw her roll her eyes slightly. "Sachertorte."

Tim wrapped his arms around me in a warm hug, and for a moment I buried my face in his shoulder. "I was worried," I whispered.

He squeezed me, then let me go. "So, where shall I take you two for lunch?"

Johanna pointed. "How about there? We can get a table where we can talk privately."

We went into the restaurant, and Johanna spoke briefly with the waiter.

"If you don't mind me ordering for all of us, we can try a couple of the local specialties."

Tim nodded, and the waiter left, returning briefly to bring drinks.

"So how did it go?" I asked Tim.

He nodded. "It was surprisingly easy. The regulations around banking privacy have changed recently – the Swiss are smart enough to realise that their old policy of keeping secrets no matter what, will not win them friends in the current global situation."

He flashed me a grin. "I didn't even have to pull a gun on anyone."

Our food came, and we started to eat. "So what's the next move?" asked Johanna.

Tim glanced across at me. "We travel to Dubai – the next flight. The time difference is less, so we'll arrive about midnight."

Johanna nodded. "Do you need me to do anything?"

Tim shook his head. "Beth will take care of it – she'd just got into the office when I called."

"OK – I'll get you a car," replied Johanna. She pulled out her phone and dialled, speaking in the local dialect.

"The car will pick you up outside the hotel in twenty minutes," she said, putting her phone away.

I grinned at Tim. "Good job I didn't really unpack."

We walked back to the hotel, and we arrived back down in the lobby just as the car pulled up outside. The porters loaded our cases into the trunk while Tim paid our bill, then he returned to where Johanna and I were waiting.

"Thanks for all your help, Johanna," he said. "Hopefully next time we'll be able to stay a little longer."

I thought for a moment about what was implied by his use of 'we', then turned to hug Johanna. "Thanks for looking after me." She nodded. "Good luck in Dubai."

We got into the car, and I watched in the mirror as she stood waving.

We arrived at the airport, and Tim took our luggage to the check-in desk. He presented our papers, and the girl behind the desk raised her eyebrows, beckoning a colleague over.

We were escorted discreetly to an unmarked door and down a short corridor, emerging at the other side of the security area.

Tim glanced at the departure board. "Our flight is already boarding," he said. "I think you'll be impressed with the service – we're flying Emirates."

We walked to the gate, following the signs for first class, and without delay we found ourselves at the door of the plane.

"If you'd like to come with me," smiled a stewardess, leading us up a short flight of stairs. "This is your cabin."

I glanced at Tim as the stewardess left. "I'm impressed – I didn't even know it was possible to fly this way."

We went into the cabin, and I stretched out on one of the seats.

"They convert into a bed if you want another nap," said Tim.

I shook my head. "Didn't you say we get in quite late? Do you have to get up early for meetings or anything?"

Tim shook his head. "No, we can take our time tomorrow."

"So let's enjoy the flight," I said. "I guess we get refreshments?"

Tim glanced at the card the stewardess had handed him as she left. "Looks like we can choose when we have meals, drinks."

"Great," I said. "Well, lunch was fantastic, I don't think I need anything else to eat just yet. But a drink would be nice."

"Bottle of wine?" suggested Tim.

I nodded. Just then the plane started to move, and Tim said, "I guess we still have to strap in."

He leaned over to make sure my belt was fastened, then settled into his own seat. The plane accelerated quickly, and I wondered again how such a heavy object could pull itself and us into the sky.

When we levelled out, Tim pressed the discreet call button, and within seconds there was a knock at the door. Tim opened it, and the stewardess smiled. "How can I help?"

"Could we have a bottle of wine, please? German if you have it."

The stewardess nodded. "We have a good Riesling chilled."

"Perfect," said Tim. The stewardess walked back down the corridor, returning with a bottle wrapped in a cloth, the moisture beading on the cold glass. Tim thanked her, and closed the door.

Tim poured wine for us, and raised his glass in a toast. "Here's to success."

"Success," I echoed. I sipped my wine, then asked, "So what did you find in Geneva?" "A money trail," said Tim. "We were able to get some credit card numbers related to the components of the bombs, and they led to a Swiss bank. They gave me the details of the account in Dubai from where the credit cards were set up."

"So what's your next move?"

"It won't be as easy to follow the trail onwards," Tim said. "In Dubai, each sheikh operates what's virtually his own fiefdom, and if a sheikh owns the bank, he makes the rules. Our only leverage is that they want us to buy their oil."

I nodded. "So we find the sheikh, and hope he's cooperative."

Tim nodded. "Or we resort to more direct tactics."

He looked as though he was going to say something else, then obviously decided against it. "Anyway, let's enjoy ourselves while we can."

He refilled my glass, then his own. "Want to watch a film?" he asked. "The in-flight entertainment system is superb."

"Sure," I said. I glanced at my seat. "These things don't move, do they. I was hoping we could get them a little closer together."

Tim smiled. "If you don't mind being cosy, I think there's room for both of us in mine."

He shifted position, and I joined him, sliding one arm round his shoulders. "Mm, just right."

Tim pressed the controls for the display screen, and it began to show the selection of films.

"What do you fancy?" he said. "Comedy, drama, romance, thriller?"

"Comedy, I think," I said. Tim grinned, and scrolled through the list, finding a John Candy film. "That OK?"

I nodded, and nestled closer into him to watch...

***

The credits rolled, and Tim pressed the control on the remote to switch off the screen. He held me in silence for a while, then said, "Thanks, Jenny, I enjoyed that."

He glanced at the clock. "Ready for dinner yet?"

I nodded. "I'd better shift back over." Reluctantly I pulled out of his arms and went back to my seat.

Tim pressed the call button, and again the stewardess appeared almost instantly. "What can I get for you?"

"I think we'd like dinner, please," Tim replied.

"Certainly, sir."

She took our orders and left, returning a few minutes later with our food. We'd just finished eating when a discreet chime sounded, and the captain's voice came over the address system.