Games Spies Play

The message popped up on Facebook; Robbie. I knew this guy was going to be trouble from the first time I laid eyes on him six months ago. I arranged to meet him in public, at one of my favorite little local places.  I sat at a table at the outdoor faux French bistro waiting for him. As I saw him approach, I stood up, smiling. “Hug me like we are old friends.” I told him through my toothy grin. “Now sit down and pick up the menu and order something.”  He sat, looking puzzled. This guy would be a total wash at poker, he can’t keep what he is thinking off his face. Better for me anyway. The waiter came and took our orders. We made small talk until he came back with our drinks and then went off to wait on other tables.  


 I took a sip of my iced tea, waiting for the inevitable question. “What in the hell is going on?” Robbie demanded. 


 I smiled like he’d said something mildly amusing, and quietly replied, “Keep it down, and don’t look around.”  


“We’re being watched?” he asked in a much lower tone. 


 “I’m always being watched.” I replied.  


His eyes grew round as it sank in. “Who are you?” he whispered. 


 “You don’t need to know that” I said, staring straight into his left eye. “What you do need to know is that you have fallen into very deep waters my friend, with ravenous sharks with very, very large teeth. And now they have your scent.” He sat bolt upright in his chair, clutching his drink. “The reason you couldn’t find anything on Maria Alverez is because she doesn’t exist. The woman you think you found is….no longer around. You already noticed Maria’s accent isn’t quite right, and her Spanish is poor.” 


 “Yea, that’s what tipped me off.” He said.  


 I smiled “That’s because her name isn’t Maria Alverez, and she isn’t Puerto Rican, Mexican or even a Latina at all. Her real name is Fahimah al Asadi.” Robbie’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. 


 “You mean she’s Middle Eastern?” he stammered. 


 I nodded, “Yea, Iranian. And I’m her minder.” The waiter chose to bring our food order right then, so I sat back in my chair and watched Robbie trying to keep his composure until the waiter set down our plates and left.  


 I dug into my food with appreciation. I had been doing this job since I was 16, and possible world destruction never did affect my appetite. Robbie just pushed his food around on his plate, sweating and staring at me the whole while. As he reached for his drink and took a sip, I swallowed my latest bite and asked him “You have been following what’s going on in Cuba, right?”  


He nodded slowly. “With Cuba opening relations with the U.S. that means the Castro family are out of power, and that leaves North Korea and China as the only remaining Communist countries. Iran is becoming desperate, their regime is losing their grip, and they are looking for someone to shore up their military rule. They have oil, but China is already drilling and supplying its own, so that leaves N. Korea as the only possible source of military help who needs what Iran has to trade.”  


 “So what does that have to do with Maria?” asked Robbie. 


 “You know that guy Tom, her new lover?” I asked. 


 “Well yea, he’s one of the reasons I moved out, he gave me the creeps by himself, but when they start slobbering all over each other, I want to heave.” My lip quirked in a half smile. I made a bet with myself, as big a racist as this asshole was, this little tidbit was going to make him puke his club sandwich all over the table.  


 “Don’t you think Tom looks and acts a bit strange for a 23 year old from Maine?” Robbie nodded. “That’s because he’s not. He’s Korean. North Korean, to be exact. If you look at him very closely, you can see he has undergone surgery to make himself look more typical American WASP.” I smiled into my glass as Robbie choked  as I predicted, and turned away coughing violently.  


 Once he got control of himself, and took a drink to clear his throat, he turned a panicked expression to me and squeaked “Oh God! I was living with a Communist and ISIS??” I nodded. 


 “And because you couldn’t leave well enough alone, now MY superiors know about you.”  


“Oh God oh God, what should I do? I don’t want to go to Guantanamo! Please, you have to help me! I didn’t know about any of this! I’m innocent!” he begged. Yea, right, I thought to myself. This guy has a petty rap sheet as long as my arm, but was always managed to be elsewhere when anything really big was going on. Pussy.  


 I put my hand on the table and leaned forward. “Get a grip on yourself!” I hissed. “Do you really think my superiors would be allowing this conversation to take place if they had plans to do anything to you? Despite popular belief, the government would rather not make ordinary citizens disappear, it causes too many questions that have to swept under the rug.” He took a deep breath and managed to get himself under control. “Now here’s what you are going to do. You will cut ties with anyone who knows Maria Alverez, and that includes me. I would highly recommend that you relocate to another state.  You never heard of Maria Alverez, and this conversation never took place.“ He nodded very slowly. “Now, look at your phone like you are checking the time.” He did, and I said “Act like you need to be somewhere. Put some money on the table for your check, and get up and hug me, then walk away and do not look back.” He did what I told him and left the table. 


 As I watched him walk away, I glanced over my right shoulder, and nodded. I had a slight twinge of guilt; I had lied, of course. I saw out of the corner of my eye two men get up from a nearby table and walk in the same direction Robbie took. He wasn’t going to be quietly relocating. Nor would he be going to Gitmo.  


 As I sat there sipping my tea, I heard a huge crash, and a few seconds later, an explosion. I didn’t even look that direction as people gasped, leaped to their feet and began to run yelling and screaming towards the parking lot.  I pulled out my wallet, laid some cash on the table for my meal, got up and straightened my skirt, sidling through the crowds of people all staring at the pyre that used to be a vehicle, taking video and pictures with their phones.  A dark gray SUV with heavily tinted windows pulled up as I reached the curb, the rear passenger door swinging open as the vehicle came to a stop. I slid inside and closed to door. I didn’t look at the old woman seated on the other side of the back seat. “Is it done?” she asked. I nodded, and the vehicle pulled away, heading to take me to my next destination for my next job.