A Spy On The Job [FICTOID]

She entered through the postern of the church of St. Ethelbert the Apostle.

They called her a myriad of names, many unfit for use in a church, barely acceptable in field work.

Call her Kitty, Crimson Kitty; that will do as an identity for now.

Her contact, Flint Lockridge, watched from the shadows.  The republic made a big investment in his career but his first couple of lackluster missions made them question their original enthusiasm.  Now he needed to get the packet from her…and figure out who her informant in the organization was.

She didn’t look like much, but then again, she didn’t want to.  She worked best as unobtrusively as possible, and if that meant going a little more dowdy than glamorous, so be it.

He coughed softly, deliberately enough to attract her attention without making it sound like “Over here, dummy.”

She came to him, and though dressed drabily she promised elaborate enticements with every step.

“Do you have the packet?” he asked in heavily accented Croatian, every syllable betraying his homeland.

“Suuure,” Crimson Kitty purred -- even her voice seemed to promise delight.  “Have you the money?”  Even her English sounded flawless.

He held out a thick envelope, drawing it back as she reached for it.

She smiled, and pulled her packet out of her coat, handing it over to him.

This time the exchange worked flawlessly.

“What about -- ?” he started, but she put her fingers to her lips and pointed off to the nave.  

He glanced over in that direction, and when he looked back, she was gone.

Flint smiled wryly.  The packet would contain strips of newsprint, not information.

No matter:  The envelope she stole contained the same thing.

© Buzz Dixon