“What do you mean?” Matt asked.
“Let’s just say that the only true information in the ‘Top Secret’ files that Lord Piggy had in his briefcase were a few fly-fishing techniques.”
“Are you serious?”
“They were pretty blatant too. Well, to anyone that fly-fishes, at least.”
“So what now?”
“We’re going to accept his riposte to our parry, and throw it back in his face.”
“How?”
“You, my young charge, are going to play a show with Lena and Vivika.”
“So you are going to bring her over?” Matt asked, surprised.
“I’m going to try, Matt. But remember our priorities: first comes Grips, and with him assurances about the safety of the network. After that, the most important thing is Sunshine. Once those points are dealt with, everything else is fair game.”
“Thank you, Mister Collins.” Matt said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank you for honoring my stupidity.”
“Oh, don’t you even think I hadn’t planned for this weeks ago.” Mr. Collins said dryly. “A good case officer always takes into account that his agents aren’t eunuchs.” With this, Mr. Collins glared at him with a very stern look, before adding, “Yet.”
“There won’t be any need for that, Mr. Collins,” Matt gulped. “But what then? What happens after we bring them over?”
“Well, then I take their case officer off the board, Matt. Check and mate.”
In Schadlicher Weise
It was past sundown as the small tour bus rolled through Checkpoint Charlie. Unlike before, they weren’t held up with very much fuss at all. The GDR Soldiers yelled, and the American’s yelled back, but they once again seemed to be fueled more by personal entertainment and appearances than any real effort. If she were of a mind to look hard enough, she might have seen two soldiers on opposite sides of the fence laughing as they bellowed at each other.
She wasn’t paying that close of attention, however, as she was far too lost in her thoughts. Here she was, the great Madeline Dangerbunny, alone in a van being driven by ‘Victor’ to places completely unknown to her. She was also quite preoccupied with not stabbing him in the back of the neck to consider much else—so much so, that she had only recently realized that she had no musical equipment—or a band—and no set list for the night. All she knew was that she was supposed to be doing an impromptu show with The Dead Weights… and that Vivika wasn’t part of that arrangement.
When Lena’s thoughts drifted to Vivika she really didn’t know what to think. Their relationship had taken on a whole new meaning so quickly that she hadn’t had time to process it. Before they could really set about formulating a plan, Patrick had acted. The two had been separated by ‘Victor’ who had picked her up at Little John with very little information. Once Lena had found out on rather short notice that she was headed west of the Wall—without the only remaining member of her band—she was sure that this was more his doing than Grandfather’s. Grandfather was a much better planner than this. The deck was stacked against her, and she didn’t like that one bit.
“So, are you excited?” Victor asked cheerfully.
Lean only responded with a curt “Yup.”
“…Gonna get to play with your buddy Matt…” he said awkwardly, trying to break the tension, “You get to play another show! Two in less than a month? Not too bad, eh?”
“Uh huh.”
“I think it’s pretty cool.” he said. After a few more moments of silence, though, he sighed awkwardly.
It was almost like a bad date—one of those horrible first dates where it becomes obvious within the first five minutes that you absolutely hate each other. Hands are wrung, looks are cast elsewhere for help, things are said purely because silence is death, and every word brings the mood closer and closer to extreme discomfort and utter failure. Then sadness. Suddenly, suicide seemed an attractive alternative to the next five moments of seat-shifting and staring daggers.
“Yup.” Lena finally said.
“Yeah… pretty cool.” he said again.
The two rode in silence as the night-time lights of the city skyline cast colors across the insides of the van. Lena knew she should really just keep her mouth shut. Absolutely nothing she could possibly say would improve the situation in any way. But ‘Victor’ was just so stupid. He had to know. He had to know that this was a scheme of such diabolically poor planning that it was doomed to failure. He had to know that it was his fault, and he had to know that she knew that. Even as the moments ticked on, Lena desperately tried to remind herself that in 24-hours, it would all be over regardless of how it played out. But minute after laden minute, she lost a measurable amount of ability to hold it all in. Finally, she hazarded a question.
“So what am I supposed to be doing, again?”
Victor winced when she asked it. Clearly, for some god-forsaken reason, he had figured he wouldn’t have to answer any of the hard questions. “You’re gonna play a show with your boyfriend.” he tried to tease. Lena just stared at the back of his neck, hating him until she saw the red flush of embarrassment start to spread—he knew his joke wasn’t very funny.
“No, seriously.” Lena said acidly, “What the hell am I supposed to be doing? What is the plan?”
“I don’t know… you know… musician stuff. Like, maybe you two could play an acoustic show or something?”
“Musician stuff? We’re punk rockers. What sort of acoustic music do you think we are going to be playing?”
“Well, I dunno…” he said, shifting in his seat. “You know, maybe… I mean, maybe he’s got a few things figured out.”
Oh, this was intolerable. This plan had been so poorly formulated, he hadn’t even bothered to work out the details of her cover, let alone the reason for reuniting with Matt York in the first place. It was so ridiculous, she almost hated him more for this than any of his other previous sins.
“You have no idea what we’re doing, do you?” Lena finally asked. “Like, you genuinely hadn’t thought any of this through.”
“Of course I don’t know what you’re doing!” he exclaimed, “This is all last minute, and you know that. Let’s just get through this and do what we have to do, okay?”
“And what do we have to do, Patrick?”
“Victor.” he corrected, but Lena wasn’t in the mood to play stupid secret-agent games right now.
“Patrick.” she said aggressively, “I’m being serious! What am I supposed to be doing? Am I supposed to tell Matt something? Am I supposed to hand something off to him for you or someone else? What do I say when he asks me questions you know he’s going to ask me? This is your job to figure all of this out, not mine. You are supposed to coach me. So coach me!”
“Look…” he replied, “I’ve got a lot to work out here, so just…”
“Oh, you have a lot to work out?!”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Lena, you have no idea what…”
“Oh I think I have plenty of ideas.”
“What?!” he yelled. “What ideas do you have? You have no idea how hard all of this is to manage! Sometimes we just have to take the hand that we are given and run with it, okay? So just… I don’t know, go do whatever you ‘band people’ do. I’ll do what I have to do, and…”