They both claimed to be in IT, over for a convention and computer fair held at the Paris Expo - Exhibition Centre. They even had business cards that they insisted we take. We just told them we were two friends getting away on a week’s holiday. Carlene admitted being a doctor while I said I was p.a. in the civil service.
They were pleasant company, seemingly innocent and good-natured, yet I could tell Carlene was uncomfortable with having two predatory men so close. However, I wasn’t certain they were exactly what they seemed. Their nervousness at being approached by a ‘strange’ woman wasn’t in keeping with their characters. Now, if their job was to watch us, then their nervousness at being approached by their quarry was quite expected.
We enjoyed a couple of drinks and then made our excuses, heading up to our room. It was almost eleven pm.
“I’ll be up later,” I said to Carlene, who simply looked at me. I knew she thought I was going to try for one or both men. “This is work, not sex,” I said and her eyebrows rose.
I left Carlene at the elevator and headed back towards the lobby. I sat in a convenient alcove with a magazine, and just waited.
They came out of the bar a couple of minutes later. They were deep in conversation and, by the looks of it, in disagreement over something. They stood in the lobby by the elevator for a few minutes, talking quietly so I couldn’t hear what was being said. Then Carlton, shaking his head and making a dismissive gesture, turned and pressed for the elevator. Wayne said something else to him, when Carlton said, quite loudly, “Look, just do what the fuck you like. I think it’s a mistake, that’s all.”
Carlton entered the elevator on its arrival and the doors closed. Wayne seemed to be in two minds about something, but then he turned and walked out of the hotel. I followed him.
I was unarmed and relatively vulnerable, dressed in a cocktail dress, black jacket and heels - Hardly the ideal kit for a surveillance operation.
Wayne didn’t behave as if he was surveillance aware, for he simply flagged a cab and got in. Smiling at the cliché of the situation, I caught the next cab and asked the driver to follow the other cab. I’d been in the game for many years, yet this was the first time I’d ever done this.
“Your ‘usband, he see another?” the cabbie asked in reasonable English.
“He’s not my husband, but something like that,” I said.
My French was pretty awful, capable only of asking for a drink and ordering food. However, as he spoke a little English, I managed to settle down confident my driver wouldn’t get too close.
The journey wasn’t a long one, about eight or nine blocks. I watched the cab come to a halt.
“Drive past and stop up there!” I said, pointing ahead, by a darkened alley.
Watching Wayne as he entered a side door of a building, I paid the driver and stepped into the shadows. I started to disbelieve he was CIA. The man was taking no precautions over any possible surveillance. Unless this was a trap and I was being lured into it!
I dug out my phone and called the ops room in London. I gave the duty officer the details of the address Wayne had entered and as much information on the two men as I could. I then stood and waited for the call back.
“Carlton Frederick Williams is a bone fide officer of IT Solutions of Toledo, Ohio. They do not have any record of a Wayne Donaldson. He’s not on any of our databases. Can you get a picture?”
I looked at my phone with its inbuilt digital camera.
“Will try. Thanks. What about 34 Rue de Grasse?”
“Nothing. Sorry.”
I put my phone away and walked slowly towards the building in question. I was twenty feet away when a car pulled along side me and a male voice spoke brusquely at me in French. I didn’t understand, but turned towards him believing it was a pick-up attempt. Initially I was angry, but the anger turned to apprehension as I saw the word POLICE on the side of the car.
The officer in the front passenger seat had lowered his window and spoke rapidly French at me.
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak French.”
He seemed very surprised. “You are tourist?”
“I suppose so.”
“Why are you here?”
I looked up and down the deserted street and shrugged.
“Well?”
“My boyfriend and I had an argument and I followed him here in a cab. He went in there,” I said, pointing at the building.
The officer exchanged an amused yet embarrassed grin with his colleague.
“Ah, you don’t want to go there, ma’mselle.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a, how you say, maison de plaisir,” he said.
“You mean a brothel?”
Grinning, he nodded.
Trying to look angry, hurt, confused and upset at the same time, I asked for a lift back to the hotel. To my surprise, he agreed and opened the rear door for me.
I arrived back at the room a few minutes later. Carlene was in the shower so I called into the ops room with my new intelligence. Carlene came out of the shower and watched me. She was worried and curious at the same time.
I explained what had happened when I’d finished on the phone.
“He failed with us so he went to get his oats elsewhere,” she said, laughing.
“I’m not so sure. He didn’t act like a man going to a brothel.”
“Oh, so you’d know,” she said.
I met her eyes and stared at her. “Yes, as it happens, I would.”
“Oh, I’d forgotten,” she said, reddening.
“Besides, the company he claims to work for has no record of him.”
My phone rang again.
“Is that address on the corner of the Place de l’Eglise de la Sacre Cour?” asked the duty officer.
“Might be, why?”
“We have a hit.”
“CIA?”
“No. It’s a business interest of the MAXIM Group.”
“What’s that?”
“A large multi-national, but primarily concerned with the Arms industry. Due to their interests we have their addresses and main officers flagged.”
“What else do we have on them?”
“No a lot. I’ll do some digging and get back to you. Are you compromised?”
“Not yet, at least I don’t believe so. It’s not as if I’m on a hot op.”
“Good, stay put.”
I terminated the call and took my shoes off. I was still unused to these bloody heels, and I longed for my old rubber soles boots. I could wear them for days without my feet complaining, whereas I just had to get these mothers out of the wardrobe and my feet started curling in protest.
“You know, I don’t think you need much help from me,” Carlene said.
“In this line or work, maybe not, but as far as this bollocks,” I said, kicking the shoes and lifting the hem of my dress, “I need all the help I can get.”
I stripped off and went for a shower. I was quite excited at the prospect of some active work, yet cautious as I didn’t know whether they were supposed to be watching us, or it was just coincidence. I don’t believe in coincidences, so wondered how to deal with this effectively. I finished the shower and returned to the bedroom. Carlene was already in her bed. I sat on mine and dried my hair.
“You are very natural, you know?” she said.
“Good, I feel as awkward as hell.”
“I envy you your confidence. It’s rare to meet someone who believes they can take on the world and win.”
“I’m not sure I do. I’ve been in some really shitty situations, which have required others to get me out. Howard has saved my arse on at least three occasions.”
“Personally, or through the chain of command?”
“Both. Once, out in the Far East, I can’t say where we were, as we weren’t supposed to be there, he dragged my bleeding arse out of the jungle and saved my life. The other times, once in the South Atlantic and once in the Middle East, it was though the chain of command. But if he hadn’t had his finger on the pulse, I’d have been mincemeat.”