A surprise from Paris

The man in charge

As soon as she got out in the streets of the Quartier Latin she breathed in: it was late afternoon, and the restaurants were starting to propagate heavenly smells out of their kitchens. Jenny hurried to a quick walk, till she got close to the Pantheon. It wasn’t close at all to the school she taught during normal days. But today, she had taken a day off. Only, Cyrille didn’t know that.  

As agreed, she ventured inside the National monument, and as soon as she did, she could see the man from behind. He was staring at the Foucault’s pendulum, a splendid art piece that was actually all about physics and not really about art. Looks could be deceiving. That was her life too. Maybe that was why she liked that object so much, it reminded her that just because something is both obviously about one thing and secretly about another, it’s not necessarily a lie of a life.  

She stopped in mid-step, took a deep breath, and then headed towards him careful not to make any noise. She was supposed not to be sloppy, and even as she walked, she had to prove herself to the agency.  

“You’re late” the man with the thick American accent stated matter of fact.  

“I know, I’m sorry. Cyrille kept me at home more than he should have had.”  

“Did you make any contact? It’s been 3 months that you two started dating. I’m starting to wonder if instead of working you’re getting your feelings involved. I observed the two of you together on the riverside.”  

“You… of course you would. I am working, but I haven’t yet. I met his family but they’re all French. I believe he really is unaware of any link with the Italians. If his uncles know something, they didn’t tell him.”  

“Mhm.”  

“What?”  

This guy really was getting on her nerves. He sounded so arrogant, boorish and pretending. She had worked for her agency for over 12 years, almost 10 of which had been working undercover in secret operations, and no one ever treated her like an incompetent young kid, not even when she was one. Now, really was not the time. 

“Listen, I know this operation is a big thing for you mate, but I know what I'm doing. If you want it done fast and sloppy, put in one of yours. If you want it done by someone with experience in this kind of jobs, give me time. It will be done.” 

Her no-nonsense tone made him turn towards her. She gasped. Now, she could see him. It hit her. It was the first time they met, but they spoke a lot over the phone. The voice should have tipped her off, but it hadn’t. Silly her.  

She had to admit that while they talked, she had almost fallen for this guy. He seemed so nice, so… caring. He was no more than 5 or 6 years older than her, his hair a dark blond, his eyes the same blue as the waters of a mountain lake. He was as handsome as the sun after a month of rain.  

“I know you will do a good job, Jael, I would just like the job to be faster. The longer it lasts, the more dangerous it gets, for all of us. You included.” 

He had said it gently, and smiling. He didn’t seem the same arrogant boss of before.  

“Us? But I thought that the person I'd meet here, aka, you, were…” 

“The boss? In charge? Yeah, no, you got it wrong. I'm Alexander. I'm deep under. I've spent the last two years and a half posing as Nathaniel Crest. Almost forgot what my hometown looks like. My boss is comfortably sitting in an office back in Virginia, while I fake-work for another boss comfortably sitting in Berlin.” 

“Oh. Well, I'm sorry I judged you. I shouldn’t have. I'll do my best.” 

“I know you will. I just… you’re the only person I met in the last months which actually knows who I am. I have just had a stupid thought, and then I saw you with Cyrille along the Seine, and I went mad.” 

She looked confused now. Why would he go mad because she was good at being undercover?  

“What? Why?” 

“Nothing you should be concerned with. It was my mistake. Go, I don’t want to keep you. You have a job to do, remember?” 

He smiled, turned around, and left with silent paces.  

Jael followed him with her eyes, wondering what he had meant. 

Also, this was the second man she had felt bad for lying to today.  

Both of them didn’t even know her real name. Both of them cared somehow about her, and she was lying to them. 

At the same time, she was trying to understand what was it that made this op so important. She knew Cyrille’s real mother was an Italian woman who only faked her death to become the head of their clan of mobsters in Paris. Actually, some people thought that the Italian folks in Paris where at the top of the pyramid of all Europe. Same went for the Russians. Somehow, the Russians and the Italians had joined forces. And China was somehow involved too, her contacts in Shanghai had hinted as much. Germans had called them in just when they had proof that they wanted to leave France and bring the problems to the States.  

That’s why Jael Nightingale was there.  

She was a British girl, her family quite a big one. They had lived in the countryside, where she became good at defending herself, being the younger sister of 4 desperate boys. She was clever, as smart as her mother, and really good with languages and accents. Got that from her mother too. 

That was the main reason why the agency had wanted her. 

She was really good as posing as any European girl, spoke 8 languages as fluently as English, and was good enough to survive with other 4. More than that, she’d studied as a psychologist. She could draw a profile in less than five minutes, and decide how to act based on that. Thanks to that, in the previous 6 years, she’d been able to solve dreadful situations going undercover alone, and in less than a month for each mission. Her ability to finish a mission fast left her identity untouched most of the times, and allowed her to risk as less as humanly possible given the job.  

The mission in Paris was delicate. There was a threat that the Russian and Italian mobsters in Europe would send very dangerous weapons and drugs to their folks in the States, and CIA, DEA, ATF and NCIS (never she had heard of that one before, to be honest) had called her boss for help. They needed a European agent, able to go around unnoticed, to fit in the crowds, helping an agent, a German, already undercover solve this mess.  Only after having accepted the mission, she had learned the agent was only faking to be German, and was in fact an American guy. Considering the languages involved, and the possibility to have to act fast basing decisions on the agent’s guts, her boss had chosen Jael.