The Barista’s Guide to Espionage

by Dave Sinclair

  “How about you shut up for now?” Eva brushed her lips over his. “I have other priorities.”

  Eva threaded her hands into his jacket and pulled him close. Harry’s last semblance of willpower collapsed and thankfully he abandoned all hope of talking. Eva had bigger plans. Much less innocent plans.

  Losing herself to the moment, it took a while to realise someone else was present. It must have taken four or five coughs before Eva realised Paul had opened the door and was attempting to get their attention.

  Finally managing to tear herself away from Harry’s firm grip, Eva turned to Paul. She almost gasped. She had known the lovable lug for eight years, but she’d never seen him like this. His face ashen, hard as stone. Every semblance of the normal jovial friend had disappeared. It had been replaced by something harder. Much harder.

  “Paul, what…?”

  Eyes bored into Harry, he said, “You’re on the news.”

  “Sweetie, he’s been on the news all–”

  “No, there’s been an announcement. An official one. You’re on the news…Horatio Lancing.”

  Chapter Ten

  The four of them gawked at the TV as BBC repeated the brief news conference again. Before a backdrop of the logos of the Lancing Corporation and its subsidiaries, Harry, well, Horatio, was straight-backed. Even with the air of confidence, Eva could tell he was nervous. It was in his eyes. Behind the lectern, he took a sip of water. After a bracing breath, he calmly said, “Ladies and gentlemen of the world, I am Horatio Lancing.”

  Cue a light storm of flashbulbs.

  The reporters went nuts shouting questions. Horatio held up a hand and glanced at his notes. Steeling himself, he looked up and changed the world.

  “Good afternoon. I apologise for the grandiose opening statement, but I thought it important to come to the crux of the matter quickly. I’m not a politician, I have no desire to be one, so why talk like one? Yes, I am Horatio Lancing, head of the multifaceted Lancing Corporation. My public relations team and I had planned my coming out, so to speak, in a few months, but recent public events sped up that process somewhat, and,” he let lose a mischievous grin, “well, here we are.”

  It was the genuineness of the smile that did it for Eva. She was sure it was the same the world over. In the space of thirty seconds he’d shown himself to be likeable, charming and non-political. Quite an achievement. He either had spectacular PR training or was the real deal. Either way, Eva couldn’t tear her eyes from the screen even though he was standing right next to her.

  In a whisper, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  In a hushed voice he replied, “Because I wanted to get to know you, and you me, without,” he waved a hand at the screen, “all this.”

  Onscreen Harry continued his press conference. “Like many people, I was caught up in the events of yesterday, which the media have dubbed the Battle of Trafalgar, by pure accident. I was in the city on some very pleasant personal business…”

  Was he flirting with Eva via the most viewed press conference of the last decade? Damn. Way to crank up the woo.

  “…and like my fellow citizens decided to hold the line against chaos, against destruction, against those who wish to watch the world burn. And please let me add for the sake of clarity that my role yesterday has been generously exaggerated. Every citizen who stood their ground and took back their city deserves praise and admiration for their efforts and sacrifice. To label one person responsible negates the selfless efforts at the Battle of Trafalgar.”

  That was good spin. It reeked of PR. Denying something while repeating it only reinforced the thought in people’s minds.

  Horatio took a sip of water. “And I might add, the Battle of Trafalgar is somewhat of a misnomer as most of the battle took place on the Strand.”

  What he didn’t say, Eva thought, was that the Battle of Trafalgar had a far more heroic edge to it. One that he’d already repeated twice.

  “My face being associated with the riot meant there would be investigations into who I am, so, well, that brings us back here, I guess.” There was that grin again. “Back in the day, when I grew up in Australia I was a geeky, pimply, socially awkward kid who clung to the shadows and went by a slightly different name–”

  Eva turned to the man beside her. Her voice deliberately even. “So, what’s your real name?”

  “Harry. Harry Lancing. I’ve never lied to you Eva.”

  She folded her arms and returned her attention to the screen.

  “If I may be so presumptuous, please let me answer some questions before you ask them. Yes, I am the Horatio Lancing who started the Lancing Corporation over fifteen years ago. There has only ever been one. Why the secrecy? I’m not one for taking the limelight and prefer my department heads, who let’s face it do the hard work, to take their due credit. Guys…” He arched his back and motioned with his hand. “Guys, step forward.”

  Distinguished men and women of various departments stepped from behind the Lancing Corporation signage. Eva could identify the heads of Technology, Media and Entertainment.

  “These are the people who rightfully deserve the praise. And to be honest, I liked the anonymity. To walk into one of my stores or ask someone on the street what they think of one of my products and to hear unfiltered opinions. I’m genuinely going to miss that.”

  That didn’t entirely ring true with Eva. Harry told her on their first meeting that he never left his ‘compound’. The man of the people routine sounded good, but she had her doubts.

  “While I have your attention, I may as well advise that effective as of yesterday, I have resigned my position as head of the Lancing Corporation.”

  Again there was frenzy in the room, but this time it was different. The department heads were just as shocked as the press. This was news to them too. They glanced at each other to see if anyone had known. There was a round of shrugs.

  The press roared and leapt out of their seats firing questions at him. Camera flashes illuminated Horatio like a floodlight. All the while he was granite-like, impervious to the frenzy before him. Horatio Lancing waited for the press’ flurry of questions to die down. It didn’t take long. They seemed to know who was in charge of the room.

  “And while I’m here I may as well respond to some of my critics. I’ve been accused of bullying-tactics, using money and power to influence corporations and governments into doing what is best for their people.” He paused and stared straight at the camera. “Well, they’re right.”

  Cutting off the questions before they were fully vocalised, he continued, “So, the next question is, what will I do with all this spare time on my hands? Golf? Not my style. Lounging on a beach somewhere? Definitely not my style. We’ve entered a new age. The age of information. If corrupt governments who exploit their people think their lies are safe behind firewalls and security protocols they are very much mistaken. People have been demanding more of governments who have ignored them for too long, concerning themselves only with re-elections and pandering to their corporate demigods rather than caring for the very people who seek their guidance, support and leadership. They’ve had enough. I’ve had enough. That’s the other reason I was planning to reveal myself before the events of Trafalgar Square. The world needed a voice, one that isn’t after political gain or a fat government retirement fund. If I need to be that voice, then so be it. And to the nervous governments of the world watching this, don’t be.” Horatio beamed and stared down the barrel of the camera. “Unless you have something to hide.”

  The room was oddly silent, compared to the previous outbursts from the press. They must have been thinking the same as Eva. Did one of the world’s richest men just threaten every government on Earth?

  The BBC then cut to the studio and the news anchor introduced an important-looking panel. Eva hit mute. She turned to the other three in the room and assessed them. Horatio fidgeted like a nervous schoolboy. Nancy stared blankly, blinking at the screen. Paul in particular seemed aghast.
/>
  Shaking his head, he pointed at the screen. “Governments need secrets. It’s how they operate. If every government knew everything about other governments the world would collapse in on itself. Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold, mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.”

  Eva was slightly shocked. Paul had presented a lucid argument and thrown in a poignant Yeats quotation. Sometimes he did surprise her.

  “It’s not like that,” Horatio started.

  “It ruddy well is.” Paul shook his hand at the screen. It was the first time Eva had ever seen him angry.

  “That’s not how it’s going to be. Of course governments need their secrets, of course. It’s only when they’re blatantly lying or self-absorbed where it hurts the people that it’s meant to–”

  “But who makes that choice?” Paul asked. “Who says you have the right to pick and choose which governments stand and which fall? You complain you’re sick of seeing power abused but it seems you’ve been searching in the wrong direction. There’s a mirror over there, I suggest you use it.”

  “Forgive me Paul, I believe you’ve misunderstood what I’m trying to achieve. It’s about keeping individual politicians to their word. I’m not–”

  “You just threatened every government on the planet by telling them that their secrets aren’t safe. I think it’s pretty ruddy clear, Mate.” Paul’s face took on a magenta hue. “How the hell have you done this? Have you been using your own systems? Because let me tell you, you’ll be liable for breach of so many ruddy laws you’ll die of old age by the time they’ve read the list of charges.”

  “Not at all. I know a small army of hackers dedicated to a noble cause. Nothing traceable back to me or my company. We’re clean.”

  Paul turned to Eva and Nancy. He pointed at Harry and shrieked, “He admitted to treason and blackmail of the highest order and he thinks he’s ruddy clean!”

  “It’s all about the greater good, Paul. Fine, okay, take for example a minister with a penchant for sodomising prostitutes. Legal, of course, it was all consensual apparently but, you know, not completely in keeping with his publicly-promoted traditional Christian beliefs. So, someone, I won’t say who,” he shrugged letting everyone in the room know he was speaking of himself, “just reminds him of this fact, makes a minor request for approval of a solar farm that was a pre-election promise anyway, and there you are. A better life for future generations and we’re all not subjected to weeks of newspaper reports of a senior cabinet minister’s proclivity for buggery while listening to S Club 7. Win bloody win.”

  “It’s still illegal. It’s still…”

  “Paul, I’m just holding these guys to the standards to which they said they’d abide. I’m–”

  “Right you two,” Nancy said sternly. “You’re not going to solve this here and now. There are more important things that need to be addressed than national security and worldwide governmental stability.”

  Three sets of eyes stared at her. Nancy jerked her head in Eva’s direction.

  “What?” Eva asked. “Me?”

  Nancy nodded. “I think the two of you have some talking to do.” Paul began to protest, but she held up her hand. “Without us.” Nancy threaded her arm through her husband’s and led him away. Over her shoulder, she hollered, “Lovely to meet you, it’s been, uh, interesting.”

  “Likewise,” Horatio shouted after them.

  As Eva watched Nancy and Paul disappear up the stairs she let out a, “Huh,” and scratched the back of her neck. “The remote.”

  Horatio shook his head. “Excuse me?”

  “The remote that Paul couldn’t find.” She poked him in the arm. “You hid it, didn’t you?”

  He bowed his head. “I wanted to see you and your friends without the distraction of who I am, what was unfolding. For a little while, at least. Is that such a bad thing?”

  The blatant deception was almost mitigated by the sentiment and his big puppy dog eyes. Almost.

  The two of them were alone for a while. The porch seemed a million years ago.

  Horatio turned to Eva. “I tried to tell you, but you kept kissing me.”

  Eva could still taste him on her lips. Was she seriously contemplating dating the person who could be the baddest bad boy on the planet?

  Was that even a question? She knew the answer. Eva was screwed.

  “I need a walk.” She picked up her coat and headed for the door. “Come on.”

  The night was crisp. Their footsteps echoed along the empty streets of Kensington. They walked separately, hugging themselves against the cold. Eva slowed as they approached a church and cut Horatio off as she entered the church’s yard. They found a stone bench. He sat beside her silently. The vapour from their breath floating into the stillness of the night.

  Eva glanced up at the imposing church. “Symbolic really.”

  “Why?”

  “St Jude.”

  “Huh?”

  “Jude the Apostle, the patron saint of lost causes and desperate cases.”

  “Catholic?”

  “Well read.”

  They convened in silence for a few minutes. Horatio seemed willing for her to take the lead.

  Finally Eva was ready to talk. “Well, one thing’s for sure, your stock’s bollocksed.”

  He chuckled. “Our predictions are an initial forty percent hit, then another twenty in the next week and a half. Within two months they will be back to acceptable levels.”

  “You seem to be in control of everything.”

  “Not everything.” He slid towards her. “Some things are a force of nature and can never be controlled, never be contained or dominated…”

  “Unless it’s recreationally…” She was trying to lighten the mood. His face didn’t change. He kept moving towards her.

  “…and it would be foolish to think otherwise.” Eva could feel his warm breath on her skin. “But to be in the presence of such beauty, such passion, even for a moment, I would give up every ounce of control I have.”

  Horatio slid his hand around her neck, weaving his fingers into her hair. The kiss wasn’t like the tentative innocence from the porch. This was a man filled with hunger and intent. If Eva were weaker willed, her knees would have buckled. Where had this guy been thirty minutes ago?

  Eva pushed him away. “We have to talk about this. About you. About, jeez, I don’t know, the world!”

  “We can.” He said caressing her cheek.

  “Good. Then pick me up tomorrow.”

  He moved back. “What?”

  “If you want to talk, then that’s what we’ll do.”

  “Eva, I was hoping you and I could…”

  “Nope. No rumpy and definitely no pumpy, Mister, until we get this shit sorted.”

  “I have a bit on at the moment…”

  “Rubbish. You just quit, and it’ll be ages before you’re entitled to unemployment benefits.”

  He tried and failed to hide the smile.

  Eva placed her hands on her hips. “The traders will be going nuts tomorrow and their need for artificial stimulants will go through the roof. If I’m shut for a day that’s going to smash my business.” She thought of her boarded-up windows that would make little difference to her caffeine-addicted clientele. “But I’m willing to do it for the sake of seeing if this,” her finger flicked between them, “has any future. Are you?”

  To her surprise, he agreed. Reassured with the sacrifice, they made plans. He walked her back to Nancy and Paul’s. On the threshold he turned and gave her one last kiss. And what a kiss. Eva was no shrinking violet and considered herself experienced in the ways of men. So it was not lightly that she considered that kiss, the one in the doorway of her friend’s house on a night of confusion, to be the best kiss of her life. No matter what happened, she would always treasure that instant as the moment when the entire world disappeared and she had been embraced by pure bliss.

  Eva tilted her head as she revelled in the memory.

  The imp
atient tapping of a pen on the metal table brought her back to reality.

  “See, not what you expecting was it?” she asked smirking.

  Decker brushed non-existent lint off his crisp white sleeve. “I’m intrigued. Please tell me what I expected? I’m dying to know.”

  “A stupid girl who met a rich a man, was swept off her feet by expensive trinkets and spent her days on the beach waiting for him to summon her with a click of his fingers. That’s what you expected me to be, wasn’t it? Some airhead who’d jump into bed as soon as she realised how powerful he was and didn’t understand the political ramifications of the man she was with. I’m guessing that’s what you were thinking. Am I wrong?”

  “You’re not entirely out of the ballpark.”

  “You know that sentence makes no sense, right?”

  “A lot like your story, it would seem.”

  “Now it’s my turn to be intrigued.”

  “You meet a man, he seems nice, a little heroic. How wonderful for you. Then you invite him to dinner and he reveals himself to be one of the world’s most powerful men, a man who publically threatens every government on the planet. Then you organise a picnic? Really? Come on. You seem reasonably intelligent Ms Destruction, surely you were not naïve enough to think that was going to end well?”

  “Excuse me, Sir,” Cole piped in. “I think we’re veering significantly off topic. We still don’t know why she was on the island or what caused the explosions, or…”

  “Yes, yes, yes, Cole. I know. As Ms Destruction keeps telling us, she’s supplying context.”

  “Yes, but Sir,” he said, glancing at his watch, “we have orders to–”

  “I’m well aware of our orders, thank you Lieutenant Commander. But they also wanted as much detail as possible, I think we’re getting that too.”

  They? Eva doubted it would be Navy Operations. They would be more concerned with moving little ships around a big map with sticks, or whatever they did. CIA? But why would the CIA trust a Navy Commander to lead an interrogation? Surely they would wait for an operative to come on board who conduct the interview themselves? It didn’t add up.