Chapter Seven
For a spy crossing over a border covertly, or going 'in on the black', as it is known in the trade, it is the same as a boxer going into the ring, or an actor performing live on stage and delivering a Shakespeare soliloquy. It is where they earn their money. It is what they do. At its core, it is who they are and nothing comes close to the feeling of illicit espionage at its highest level where there are no second chances.
They had risen at 6am and had changed into their disguises for the day; Katy in a dowdy black funeral dress and headscarf, Peter in a cheap and ill-fitting black suit. Gorilla had on his customary heavy black winter jacket, black cap and gloves.
“We all look tired and worn out,” said Katy, feeling cold and exhausted as she fixed her headscarf.
“It's per
