The Spy Who Loved Me

I finished wiping the last table, and straightened, feeling the tension in my back and the tiredness in my feet.

"All done, boss," I called in the direction of the kitchen, getting a grunted acknowledgement. I grabbed my coat from the peg near the door and went out into the street, pulling the thin fabric around me in response to the late autumn chill.

My heels clicked on the pavement as I hurried towards the subway station. I reached the steps, and relaxed slightly in the warmer air blowing from the platform.

I glanced at the display. My train was only a couple of minutes away, and I stood looking at the advertising hoardings, trying to remember what I had in the fridge.

As the train pulled in, its doors sliding open, I felt someone bump into me from behind.

I turned to see a man in his late thirties. "I'm sorry," he said, "I should look where I'm going."

"No problem," I smiled.

I glanced at his tailored suit and polished shoes. "On your way home from work?"

He nodded. "We'd better get on the train, hadn't we?"

I felt an inner thrill at his casual assumption of 'we', feeling his hand touch my elbow lightly as I stepped onto the train. I smiled my thanks, gripping the handrail.

"Do you work near here too?" he asked.

I nodded. "There's a diner on Fifty-Fourth Street, maybe you know it?"

He nodded. "I walk past on the way to the office. Never been in, though."

"You should try us," I said. "The pecan pie's great." I flashed him a smile. "I'll stand you a coffee with your first slice."

He grinned. "You're on."

I took a deep breath. "I'm Jenny, by the way."

He extended his hand. "Tim – Tim Smith."

I took his hand, and felt his firm grip. Just then, the train slowed as it pulled into the next station.

"Here's my stop," Tim said. I thought I saw a hint of regret on his face as he released my hand, then as the doors opened he was gone, glancing back over his shoulder as he walked away.

The train pulled out of the station, and I took a seat for the rest of my journey out to the suburbs. I caught myself wondering what sort of place Tim had in town – an apartment? Somewhere he lived just in the week? Or was there a wife waiting for him, maybe a son or daughter eager to give Daddy a hug when he got home from work?

I shook my head. Maybe he'd come into the diner for a slice of pie, maybe not. I pushed my thoughts aside and counted the train's stops as I usually did.

The train finally emerged from underground, and after a few more minutes' travel, stopped at my station. I got out onto the platform, feeling the cold biting at me. I again pulled my coat closely around me, and glanced across at the city lights before quickly descending the steps to street level to get out of the wind.

I walked rapidly, my head hunched into my collar, and reached the front door of my rundown apartment block. My chilled fingers fumbled the key into the lock, and I checked my mailbox before climbing the stairs to my apartment. I closed the door behind me, and leaned into the tiny bathroom to flip the switch on the antiquated water heater before kicking off my shoes.

I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Scrambled eggs again..."

While the eggs were cooking, I lit the grill to make toast, then put the kettle on.

Finally I sat down at the table with my plate in front of me and a mug of tea. After a day on my feet, I didn't have much appetite, but the toast and eggs were soon gone and I leaned back in my chair, sipping the hot tea.

After a few minutes I went through to the bathroom to start the water running, then undressed, throwing my clothes in the hamper.

I lay back in the bath with a sigh, closing my eyes. Still two days to go before the weekend, and the treat I'd promised myself of a walk to the park and a hot dog from the stand that always set up on the corner.

As the water started to cool, I got to my feet – my muscles protesting at being used again just when they'd begun to relax – and stepped out of the bath, grabbing a towel from the rail.

I dried, then pulled on the faded t-shirt, reaching to my knees, that I always wore to bed. I cleaned my teeth, then went through to the bedroom, glad I'd taken the extra minute that morning to make the bed. As my head touched the pillow, an image came into my mind of the stranger I'd met on the subway, and I imagined him coming through the door of the diner in his suit, his briefcase in one hand, an bunch of flowers in the other.

I closed my eyes, and Tim's face still in my imagination, I slept.

***

The next day went pretty much as usual, and I was thinking about starting to wipe the tables, when the door of the diner opened again. I glanced up, and blinked in surprise. There was Tim, almost exactly as I'd imagined, including the flowers in his hand.

"For you," he said, holding them out.

"Wow," I said, putting the flowers down on the counter. "Thank you so much."

He grinned. "No problem. Now, I hope I'm not too late for that pie."

He sat down at the counter, and I tried to resume my businesslike pose, flipping open my order pad. "Sure, I think we still have some. And coffee, right - I haven't forgotten I promised."

Tim nodded, smiling. "Great – thanks, Jenny."

I went over to the kitchen hatch and passed the order slip across. I poured coffee from the jug on the hotplate, and put the mug in front of Tim.

"Ah, that's better," he said, sipping. "I haven't had time for a break today."

The kitchen bell sounded, and I turned to take the plate from the hatch. "Looks like the boss is in a good mood," I said, "you've got a pretty big slice."

Tim grinned. "Just what I need."

I hesitantly sat down opposite him, the counter between us, and ventured, "Where do you work, anyway?"

I was almost certain I saw a guarded look flash across Tim's face, but he replied casually, "Oh, I'm just a mid-level manager at a cellphone company – our head office is a few blocks away."

He took his fork and started to eat. "You're right – this pie is great."

In between bites he sipped his coffee, and when the pie was finished he leaned back on his chair. "That feels better."

I glanced at the clock on the wall. "I don't want to rush you, but we'll be closing in a minute. I can get you another coffee if you like, then I'm afraid I'll have to start wiping tables – I can leave the counter till last."

Tim smiled. "I'd love another coffee." He paused. "I'll walk you to the subway, if you like – I don't mind waiting while you finish up."

"I'd like that," I said. I picked up the flowers. "I'll put these in some water, they'll brighten the place up tomorrow."

I found a vase for the flowers, then poured Tim another coffee. I walked round the counter to start clearing up, and Tim watched me move from table to table straightening the menu holders, lining up the salt and pepper shakers.

"Looks as though you like things neat and tidy," he remarked.

I laughed. "You should see my apartment – you might change your mind on that."

I ran the cloth over the surface of the last table, then dropped my cloth in the sink behind the counter. "All done."

"Shall we go?" smiled Tim, getting up from his seat.

"I'm off," I called to the boss, getting the usual muffled acknowledgement, then Tim held the door for me as we went out onto the street.

As we reached the subway entrance, I turned to Tim and said hesitantly, "If you don't already have plans, you could come back to my place, we could have something to eat."

He looked surprised, but nodded enthusiastically. "I'd like that. We could get takeaway, save you cooking."

I grinned. "There's a great Chinese place just around the corner."

"You're on."

The train had just pulled when we reached the platform, and I touched Tim's arm and pointed. "Look, there are two seats free."

We sat down, and the train pulled smoothly away. We reached the next stop after a couple of minutes, and Tim glanced at me as the doors opened, then closed.

"Unknown territory for me from here on," he grinned.

"Don't you get out of town much?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I moved here about six months ago, and things have been really busy. I haven't had a chance to explore yet."

"About an hour further out on the train from my stop you're in the countryside," I said. "There are some nice walks..."

We chatted for a few more minutes – I learned that Tim had been married, but that his wife had left him a couple of years earlier.

I glanced out of the window, and started to get up from my seat. "Here's our stop."

The train pulled up, and Tim let me go first. We stepped out onto the platform, and Tim glanced round.

"You can see the skyscrapers from here," he said.

I nodded. "It's not the best area to live in, but the rent's cheap and it's only a short commute to work."

We made our way down the steps to the street. "The Chinese place is just over there," I pointed.

We went into the takeaway, and Tim looked at the menu. "I like the sound of the beef in black bean sauce," he said. "Is there something you usually have?"

I pursed my lips. "'Fraid I don't get to come in here very often on what I make."

Tim nodded. "Well, I'm treating you, so have whatever you like."

We ordered, and sat down to wait. I flipped through the newspapers on the low table in front of us.

"I don't like this Pakistan situation much," I said. Again I thought I saw a flicker in Tim's face as though he wanted to say something but couldn't.

The girl behind the counter called our number, holding out a cardboard box with our order. "Free spring rolls," she said, smiling at Tim.

We thanked her, and went out. "Just around the corner now," I said.

I opened the front door, checking the mailbox as usual, then led Tim up the stairs to my apartment.

"Make yourself at home," I said. "Tea or coffee?"

"Tea, thanks," he replied. While the kettle was boiling, I brought out plates and cutlery, and Tim unpacked our food.

I made the tea, and came to join Tim on the sofa. "Thanks," I said.

"No problem," he smiled. "Dig in."

We'd nearly finished eating when I heard a quiet beep. "Oh, sorry," said Tim, producing a pager from his pocket. "That'll be the office."

He glanced at the display, and a grim look came across his face. He glanced at me, and for a moment I thought I caught a fiercely protective expression.

"Jenny," he said, "you might want to put the TV on."

I fumbled for the remote, and clicked for a news channel. As the screen sprang into life, at first my eyes couldn't make sense of what I was seeing, then I gasped in horror.

"The authorities confirm that the bombs in Washington and New York were both definitely nuclear devices," the announcer said, her voice not entirely steady. "They say that further explosions can't be ruled out. All emergency services and medical personnel have been mobilised; everyone else is urged to stay at home and wait for information. Public transport systems will be suspended, and checkpoints will be established on major roads."

When I took my eyes from the screen, Tim was looking at me, his face betraying some internal struggle.

Finally he spoke. "Jenny, I haven't been entirely honest with you. It wouldn't have mattered so much, but given what we're seeing..."

He paused. "My job at the cellphone company is just a front. My real work is for a federal agency – you won't have heard of it – gathering intelligence on potential threats to the country."

He gestured at the screen. "It's obvious that someone has managed to avoid all of our precautions, and we urgently need to find out what else they may be intending to do."

I nodded, at a loss for words. Then, "Do you need to leave?"

Tim hesitated. "Yes." He pulled a phone from his pocket and dialled.

"Beth? Tim. I need transport." He gave my address, then, "And I'll have someone with me. Yes, on my authority."

As he ended the call, I said, "Did you just say...?"

He nodded grimly. "I don't want to leave you here."

I reached for his hand. "Thanks..."

The cellphone rang, and Tim answered it. "OK."

He put the phone in his pocket and said, "We have fifteen minutes. Don't worry about packing clothes, we can take care of that, but your passport, driver's licence, any other important papers."

I nodded, still trying to sort out my thoughts. I went through to my bedroom and pulled a shoulder bag from the wardrobe, then started to sift through the drawers of the small desk under the window, stuffing papers into my bag. As an afterthought I dropped a few items of makeup in on top.

"Ready?" called Tim from the hall.

I glanced round the apartment, making sure I'd switched everything off, then we went out onto the landing and I locked the door, wondering when – if? – I'd be back.

As we reached the street, a large black car with dark-tinted windows drew up at the kerb, and Tim held the door for me to get in, then slid into the back seat beside me.

As he closed the door, the car pulled away, though the driver was hidden by the partition.

Tim pressed a button. "Where are we headed first?"

"The Farm." Somehow I heard the capital letter.

Tim released the button and turned to me. "That's about an hour away. Why don't you tell me more about yourself while we travel?"

I hesitated. "I'm guessing your interest isn't just personal – you need to know some of my background."

Tim nodded, smiling. "I knew you were smart. But I really am interested too."

I returned his smile. "Well, you needn't worry. Dad was a firefighter, my mother was a nurse. Neither of them had any kind of political connections, they just kept themselves to themselves. And I've never even signed a petition, let alone got involved with any cause."

Tim nodded. "That makes it easier."

I rummaged in my bag. "I don't even know why I bothered getting a passport, but look – no stamps."

Tim grinned. "Well, if you stick with me, that won't change – we never use our own identities for travelling."

I looked at him with a mischievous expression. "Would I get to pick a name?"

Tim shook his head. "We have a department that creates identities – records, photos, newspaper clippings, that sort of thing."

I shrugged. "Still, I can pretend."

Tim settled back in the deep leather seat. "Go on then, tell me who you'd want to be."

I paused, thinking back to all the stories I'd made up when I was a girl watching Bond films. "I suppose I'd want to be armed – one of those guns that fit into a handbag. I'd be an expert in unarmed combat, be able to take on a man twice my size. And gadgets, things that aren't what they seem – poison in my perfume spray, a laser in my watch."

Tim shook his head, grinning. "Albert Broccoli did us a huge favour – most of those things are pretty unlike my world."

He paused. "The only thing that's completely true is that we're still armed."

I felt a chill go over my body. "You mean, now?"

He nodded, and I held my breath as he reached inside his jacket. He drew out a matt black shape, smaller than I'd expected.

"OK," I breathed at last. "Can I look?"

Tim seemed surprised, but checked the gun carefully before handing it over. "The safety's on and the hammer's down, so it's completely safe."

I took the weapon, feeling its weight in my hand, then wrapped my fingers round the grip, pointing the muzzle at the partition. "Bang," I said, squeezing the trigger.

Tim reached out to take the gun from me and restored it to its holster. "First time you've held one?"

I nodded. "Feels kind of exciting." I didn't admit just how much of a thrill I'd got from holding the gun, but I resolved that if this adventure I seemed to have fallen into offered any more opportunities to handle weapons, I'd take them without hesitation.

I felt the car slow, and turn. I looked across at Tim, and he nodded. "We're here."

The car drew to a halt and Tim got out, again holding the door for me. It was dark now, but I could dimly see buildings surrounding an open space, and light spilling from a doorway.

"This way," said Tim. As we walked towards the light, I heard the car pull away, and its tail lights dwindled as it drove down an unlit track away from us.

As we reached the doorway, the figure of a young woman appeared. "Hi, Tim," she said. "And you must be Jenny."

I nodded, then realised that Tim hadn't used my name in any of his phone conversations. "How...?"

Beth smiled reassuringly. "While you two were on the way, we did some checks. It wasn't hard to find out where Tim had been yesterday and this afternoon."

I returned her smile hesitantly. "It's a good job I don't have any guilty secrets."

"Anyway," said Beth, "come in, make yourself at home."

She turned to Tim. "You've eaten, right?"

Tim nodded. "So we can go straight to the briefing if you want."

He looked at me. "If you come into the briefing, you realise there's no going back? Knowing I'm not who I tell people is one thing, and coming here is not a problem – I'm sure you have no idea where we are. But if we let you in on detailed information, that's different."

"Where do I sign?" I said simply.

Tim nodded. "There will be things you'll have to sign, but for now that'll do for me."

We followed Beth into a large room with a conference table and chairs, and a screen at one end. She pressed a control, and the screen lit up with maps, numbers, photographs.

I listened fascinated as Beth went through what was already known about the explosions, and the possible origin of the components of the weapons. I could see Tim nodding, and when Beth finished he spoke decisively.

"I'm beginning to get the picture – and I think we have a trail to follow. Beth, I'll need some travel documents. First thing tomorrow Jenny and I are off to Geneva."

He looked across at me. "That's OK, isn't it? It'll really help build a convincing cover."

I took a deep breath. "Tim, I'll do anything you need. I haven't heard from my family, but it's more than possible that people I know are already dead in... that." I gestured up at the screen, still showing a photograph of the destruction.

Tim nodded. "Well, if we're travelling tomorrow, we'd better get some sleep."

I glanced across at Beth. "Where do I sleep? And Tim brought me in such a hurry there was no time to pack."

She smiled. "Don't worry. Plenty of bedrooms in this place, and we'll organise clothes for you – we have your sizes, and an idea of the brands you prefer."

I decided I'd have to get used to the casual way in which the agency – I realised I didn't even know its name – knew all about me. At least I'd get some privacy tonight. Then it occurred to me that for all I knew, the rooms might be bugged. I dismissed the thought – how would it possibly help them to know if I snored or not?

"Well, I'll say goodnight then," smiled Tim. "Beth will look after you, and I'll see you at breakfast."

He went out of the conference room, and I was left with Beth.

"This must all be very strange for you," she said. "At least when I got into the agency, I had an idea I'd be working for the government, though the job description turned out to be just a screen – they'd already selected me on my ability to do this kind of work."

"So are you an – agent?" I hesitated.

Beth grinned. "Mostly I help out here with logistics, communications, equipment, that sort of thing. But I do have all the training – we never know when we might be needed for more, ah, direct operations."

She got up from her seat. "Come on, we'll find you somewhere to sleep and a toothbrush."

I followed her down a corridor, and she opened one of the doors. "Here – I like this one, I've stayed in it a couple of times."

I followed her in, glancing around. What I saw reminded me of a not-too-expensive suite in one of the hotels I'd stayed in with my parents – bedroom, lounge, an en-suite bathroom.