Easter Term: The Ministries of Fear
You sit at the coffee table, photosensitive lenses on your sunglasses acclimatizing perfectly to the light levels, and look out on the Champs-Elysees in the June sunshine. A tiny little readout, inset into the lower-left edge of your left lens, reminds you that your guest is due to arrive in thirty seconds.
By now you've been conscious of him watching your table for the past five minutes. Both of you know he will find nothing. But by now, both of you would be a little uncomfortable were he not to check. It's part of the routine.
Five seconds remain when he steps out in front of you, says your name. You smile. "Lars," you reply, and gesture. He sits, precisely on schedule; punctuality to the second one of his defining characteristics over the years.
"We have trouble," you tell him.
He frowns; it's so far away from a typical opening gambit of yours that all of a sudden, all the old questions open back up. Can he trust you? Is this you speaking - the friend he has made over snatched meetings for the last ten years - or is this your superiors, recalling you to your country's duty above that trust? You keep your features straight; for your own reasons, you can't afford for him to guess too hard.
It's been twenty years, now, that you've been doing this. Paris is your city, and even your opposite numbers in other agencies will admit that, will call you in as a courtesy, or work out compromises when given orders that will conflict with your interests. Similarly, Lars has had Moscow locked down since before the wall fell. You have friends in most capitals, really.
And now it's time to use that. Why? Ah! Don't think about it - Lars might read it from your expression.
When the dust settles, agencies will have changed. Governments will have toppled.
Will you keep your friends on top, or your agency? Or are you that rarest of spies - truly loyal to your country? How can you handle the international cartels?
---
ALPHA PROTOCOL: The Ministries of Fear
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Starring five born manipulators playing games of their own
Coming Easter Term 2011, Tuesdays
By now you've been conscious of him watching your table for the past five minutes. Both of you know he will find nothing. But by now, both of you would be a little uncomfortable were he not to check. It's part of the routine.
Five seconds remain when he steps out in front of you, says your name. You smile. "Lars," you reply, and gesture. He sits, precisely on schedule; punctuality to the second one of his defining characteristics over the years.
"We have trouble," you tell him.
He frowns; it's so far away from a typical opening gambit of yours that all of a sudden, all the old questions open back up. Can he trust you? Is this you speaking - the friend he has made over snatched meetings for the last ten years - or is this your superiors, recalling you to your country's duty above that trust? You keep your features straight; for your own reasons, you can't afford for him to guess too hard.
It's been twenty years, now, that you've been doing this. Paris is your city, and even your opposite numbers in other agencies will admit that, will call you in as a courtesy, or work out compromises when given orders that will conflict with your interests. Similarly, Lars has had Moscow locked down since before the wall fell. You have friends in most capitals, really.
And now it's time to use that. Why? Ah! Don't think about it - Lars might read it from your expression.
When the dust settles, agencies will have changed. Governments will have toppled.
Will you keep your friends on top, or your agency? Or are you that rarest of spies - truly loyal to your country? How can you handle the international cartels?
---
ALPHA PROTOCOL: The Ministries of Fear
Powered by Smallville
Starring five born manipulators playing games of their own
Coming Easter Term 2011, Tuesdays