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Page 9.
Chapter 4
 The two spies sat in a van. Parked on a promontory, overlooking West Gotha, was Captain Alton Hedrock of the East Gotha National Information Processing Agency (NIPO). Hedrock was the quintessential tall, dark, and handsome lady killer with a small mustached pressed hard on the rim of his upper lip. With him sat the West Gotha professor of computer information systems he had seduced into becoming a fellow spy—his boss in the West Gotha Special Projects Branch (SPB), Dr. Moira. They sat silently sipping lukewarm coffee that filled the van's dingy cab with a wood-like aroma of artificial cream, too much sugar, and too-thin brew of chicory with a sprinkle of real coffee. Rain pattered on the roof and echoed in the van's half-empty interior. Moira had one cold, trembling hand on his thigh. He considered pushing her hand away, but calculated that she needed reassurance more than she needed warmth.
"How could I let you lead me to betray my fatherland?"
He was absorbed in the distant view of the West Gotha launch port, and almost did not hear his lover speak.
"You're a cool one," Moira said.
He gently patted her icy hand, which gripped his knee, and smiled at her. He was fond of her, well enough, though his duty always came first and she was expendable like any other attractive woman he seduced in the line of work. He raised a pair of small, strong binoculars and scanned the city for reference points only he recognized. Moira had helped calculate the triangulation of three seemingly innocuous microwave patterns that would intersect at a dumb, blind transponder hidden in a tower among the many towers near the launch gantry.
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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