The Rookie?s Guide to Espionage: An Eva Destruction Espresso Shot

by Dave Sinclair

  Within a few bounds, Eva was in the stairwell. Even over the alarm she could hear Justin’s frantic footsteps descending. Taking four steps at a time, Eva reached behind her back, but her gun was gone. It must have dislodged during the landing. When she returned to London she’d need to fill in all sorts of paperwork, but for now she’d just have to take Justin out the old-fashioned way.

  And yet again, she didn’t have a pencil.

  Increasing her pace, Eva hoped Isabella would be able to make it to the ground floor before her. She would hate to tell her superiors she’d let the lone witness slip through her fingers a second time. She had two more floors before that could happen. Eva quickened her pace.

  You’re mine, you little badger fluffer.

  It wasn’t to be. As Eva passed the sign for the first floor, light flooded the stairwell below. Justin had reached the ground floor. After a final sprint, she burst into the lobby. As suspected, confused guests meandered towards the exits, unsure if the alarm was real. Eva couldn’t see Justin or Isabella.

  “Eva!” Near the front entrance, Isabella jumped to be seen over a group of Asian businessmen. “Over here!”

  Before Eva reached Isabella she saw a faint glimpse of red. Justin! He was walking as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself, heading towards the kitchens. Away from Isabella.

  Eva changed her trajectory, careening around an elderly couple, and motioned for Isabella to follow. Together they sprinted towards the kitchen. Thankfully the crowd had thinned in that area, and the closer they came, the fewer obstacles they encountered.

  They surged through the swinging door. Isabella had her gun ready. Eva was armed only with her wit and her devastating fashion sense—a heady combination. Sweeping for threats, they found none.

  The kitchen was abandoned and eerily silent. Pots of food, still steaming, stood on the stove. Vegetables lay half diced on counters. The staff had left in a hurry. As they made their way carefully through the kitchen, Eva picked up a large carving knife. Sure, her wit was cutting, but this was slightly sharper.

  A rudimentary search determined that Justin wasn’t in the kitchen. They exited via a rear door into startling daylight.

  A group of white-hatted chefs sat on milk crates smoking cigarettes. They didn’t seem too fazed by the alarm. Eva approached them, and in stilted German asked if they’d seen a man in a red shirt run past.

  A rotund chief responded in perfect English. “He went that way,” he said, pointing towards the main thoroughfare. “He seemed to be in an awful hurry.” He appraised Isabella. “Now why would such a man run away from a woman such as this?”

  “The world is a mysterious place,” Eva replied.

  “May I have that back?” the chef asked, nodding at the knife in Eva’s hand.

  “Sure,” she said, handing it back, then she took off. She’d done so much running in the last twenty-four hours. These foot pursuits were playing havoc with her heart rate, but they’d be doing wonders for her butt.

  With Isabella on her heels, she sprinted onto Vienna’s main thoroughfare, the Stubenring, where wide, tree-lined streets circled the old city. Trams and cars motored along at an unhurried pace, unlike Eva and Isabella.

  “There!” Isabella called out, pointing.

  There was Justin, head high, sprinting along the footpath. Shocked pedestrians jumped out of his way. Luckily, he was easy to spot in the crowd. The bright red shirt had definitely been a bad choice.

  The two spies sprinted down the street, dodging pedestrians and dog walkers. The DGSE agent seemed fit, keeping pace easily and hardly straining for air.

  She gave Eva a sideways glance. “I could have taken him out,” Isabella spat.

  “And that’s why I stopped you. We need him alive.”

  “Of course alive! What do you take me for?”

  Eva didn’t have an answer to that. Glimpses of red among the crowd kept them on target. They ran on.

  The phone in Eva’s hand rang. Without missing a step, she answered. It was Volmer.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  As she crossed an intersection, weaving through slow-moving traffic, Eva glanced up at the nearby street signs. They told her she was at the intersection of Schubertring and Himmelpfortgasse.

  With a grunt, Eva replied, “A street.”

  Volmer found the answer less than helpful, so Eva did her best to pronounce the tongue-twisting Austrian names.

  “Ah!” Volmer proclaimed. “He appears to be headed toward the Danube.”

  “He’s on foot, but moving fast, with a significant head start,” Eva panted, still running. “I need to do something to improve the odds.”

  She hung up and veered off the sidewalk. Eva zipped between cars braking for a red light and made for the tramline centre strip. Isabella followed, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

  Passengers were alighting a tram at a nearby stop. Now was Eva’s chance. She leapt aboard and headed towards the front. Isabella was with her every step of the way.

  “This is your solution? A tram? James Bond, ’e never use a tram.”

  “He also never had hair like this.” Eva flicked her head for effect. Her hair was totally on-point today.

  Isabella frowned, reluctantly conceding the point.

  The tram jolted as it took off, causing Eva to momentarily lose her footing. Isabella steadied her so she wouldn’t fall. When Eva reached the driver’s cabin she knocked on the perspex window. The young woman at the controls kept her eyes forward and scowled, as if she didn’t like interruptions.

  Eva knocked again and said, “Entschuldigen Sie,” impressed at her retention of high-school German.

  The driver continued to ignore her, but the scowl intensified.

  “Allow me,” Isabella said.

  The metal clang against the window caught the driver’s attention. The gun retained it.

  “Relax,” Eva said. “We’re not here to hurt you.”

  “Is this a hijacking?” the driver asked in perfect English.

  Isabella snorted. “Of a tram?”

  “It could happen.” The driver seemed hopeful.

  “We are law enforcement officers in pursuit of a suspected international terrorist,” Eva said, getting back on topic. “Over there, in the red shirt. We need you to miss the next few stops to keep up with him.”

  The driver sat up in her seat, apparently revelling in the excitement. They were gaining on Justin. Thankfully, he was keeping to the main thoroughfare, seemingly with a final destination in mind.

  Eva heard a tap tap tap and turned to look at Isabella. She’d tucked her gun away and now had her phone in her hand, typing away.

  “Updating Facebook, are we?” Eva asked.

  Isabella pressed one more button then stuffed the phone in her pocket. “As a matter of fact, yes. I was updating my status: ‘Just about to crash a tram, LOL’.”

  “Funny.”

  Justin had slowed, unable to keep up the pace. He appeared unaware that his pursuers were gaining on him.

  The tram gradually decelerated as the traffic light ahead turned amber.

  “Run the light,” Eva ordered.

  “But… but we will crash,” the driver said, her bravado disappearing.

  “You ever played video games?” Eva asked. “You have to plant your foot or you’ll never get to the next level.”

  Instead of looking scared, the young driver’s face lit up. “Like Mario Karts?”

  Eva laughed. “Just like Mario Karts. If you crash, blame the chick with the gun.” Eva deliberately didn’t look at Isabella. She nodded at the windscreen. “Punch it.”

  “I’ve always wanted to do this!”

  Eva thought the tram driver was enjoying herself a little too much. She rang the bell and leaned forward. The tram was relatively modern, but it wasn’t exactly a bullet train.

  The driver grabbed the microphone and practically yelled, “Stütze für Stöße!”

  The passengers clutched pol
es and held their arms forward with panicked expressions. Isabella and Eva regarded each other in confusion.

  The driver must have noticed their perplexed expressions. “I said brace for impact.”

  The tram didn’t slow down. As the light turned red the driver clanged the bell repeatedly and bellowed a joyous squeal. She seemed to be having the time of her life.

  The tram careened through the intersection and smashed into a Citroën, sending it spinning into oncoming traffic. On one side of the tram a BMW squealed to a halt and a Porsche SUV rear-ended it. On the other, two Mercedes smashed into one another. Angry drivers honked and shook their fists at the tram. But they were through.

  The tram driver bounced in her seat. “I’ve never felt so alive!”

  Eva grinned at her. “You and I should definitely hang out.”

  Isabella folded her arms and scowled.

  Justin seemed unaware of the carnage behind him. He’d stopped and was doubled over, sucking in deep gulps of air. He didn’t appear used to running. The longer he rested, the closer they got. They were a mere hundred metres away now. Even better, he had no idea they were there.

  Justin was hunched near vast parkland with some sort of amusement park nearby. Eva could see the occasional flash of rides over the tree line. If they didn’t catch him soon he could escape into the chaos of the park and they’d lose him. They had no time to waste.

  “Let us off at the next stop.” Eva didn’t take her eyes off the wheezing figure ahead. “And thank you.”

  “Wait, wait, I can run the next set of lights!” The driver sounded hungry for more.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Eva said evenly.

  The tram driver’s disappointment was palpable. It was like letting a kid go on a roller-coaster only to tell them they had to ride the merry-go-round for the rest of their life. But the driver’s lust for excitement wasn’t Eva’s priority.

  As the tram pulled up, the doors opened automatically. Eva managed to shout, “Danke!” over her shoulder as they leapt out.

  With Isabella by her side, Eva threaded a path through the traffic. Justin had taken off again, but at a dawdling jog this time. He seemed spent. Eva was just getting started.

  With leisurely traffic on one side of the wide street and parkland on the other, it was certainly picturesque. They were closing in on him. They had the element of surprise. They were only 20 metres away, and he had his back to them. They had him. All they needed to do was—

  “’ey, Justin!”

  Eva’s head snapped around to stare at Isabella. What the hell, woman?

  Their prey turned in panic and sprinted, terrified, into the park. Eva cursed and followed. She scowled at Isabella.

  “What?” she asked. “We ’ave ’im.”

  “Not yet we don’t.”

  Justin dashed towards the entrance of the amusement park and leapt over the barrier. An elderly security guard managed a winded, “Halt!” but nothing more.

  Isabella and Eva followed suit and bounded into the park. Being late in the day, it was sparsely populated, so spotting his red shirt wasn’t difficult. Cheesy music permeated the grounds, and the smell of fried food was everywhere. A giant Ferris wheel loomed over the park.

  The phone in Eva’s hand rang. “Volmer, we’ve entered an amusement park. We’re close to him now.”

  “Keep with him. I am not far away. I shall be there with reinforcements within minutes.”

  Without bothering to reply, Eva hung up. Justin entered a long alleyway of arcade attractions. Eva gestured for Isabella to keep on him; she’d go the long way around and hopefully head him off. She was faster than Isabella, and Justin was exhausted.

  Eva split off and sprinted past cheap amusements: quoit tossing, laughing clowns and the like. She was beginning to pant, but wasn’t about to stop. Not now. She doubled down and increased her pace.

  As she rounded the corner Justin spotted her. He skidded to a halt in front of the Ferris wheel, confusion and panic clear on his face. There may as well have been a bubble above his head that said, “Where the hell did you come from?”

  A grin spread across Eva’s face. She could see Isabella running towards him. They had him in a pincer move.

  Taking a second to grab a breath, Eva said, “You have nowhere to go!”

  Sweat and dread dripped from his face. With an expression of horror, Justin hurdled the barrier in front of the Ferris wheel.

  “Okay, you had one place to go.”

  Guards yelled as Justin scrambled over the various barricades designed to corral passengers and headed directly towards the open door of an ancient carriage. Two guards leapt in front of the door, arms out, as if ready to catch him. The door closed behind them and the wheel groaned as it moved slowly upward.

  Instead of backtracking, Justin sped up. He placed a foot on the barricade and launched himself into the air. Arms outstretched, he flew skyward and grabbed the ledge of the wooden carriage. The guards scrambled to seize his legs, but he managed to clamber out of their reach.

  A panting Isabella reached Eva’s side. Volmer and four uniformed police officers arrived seconds later. Every one of them had a gun out, spooking the tourists and guards alike.

  Through halting gasps, Volmer yelled at the bemused worker manning the Ferris wheel controls. After a brief exchange, Volmer spat, “Scheisse!”

  “What is it?” Eva asked.

  “It has to go fully around first,” Volmer explained with a scowl. After a pause, he added, “And hello. Very good pursuit, ladies.”

  The two agents nodded. Eva would have objected to the use of such a pejorative term, but she was too busy sucking in precious air. Volmer walked off to speak to the guards, most likely making sure they’d be ready when Justin came back down.

  The phone in Isabella’s pocket buzzed and she quickly glanced at it, then shoved it back in her pocket.

  Eva whispered, “I’m going up there.”

  Isabella was stunned. “Are you mad?”

  “I wish people would stop asking me that.”

  It was a calculated risk. Given the number of guns on the ground, Eva knew she had to calm the situation. Justin was contained, but that didn’t mean the ordeal was over. When he came down there were likely to be a lot of itchy trigger fingers pointing his way. The events in Lyon had made worldwide news. People were spooked. Europe was on edge. Justin would know his options were dire. If she could talk to him she might be able to keep him from committing suicide by cop, or worse.

  Eva watched the giant spinning wheel. She had to move now or she’d miss the next carriage. She didn’t ask for permission—she never did. In a lightning-fast move, she bolted towards the next carriage, just as Justin had. And just like Justin, she encountered shouts, and guards trying to intercept her path.

  Using the shoulder of a crouched guard as a launch pad, Eva bounded over the barricade and onto the side of the incoming carriage. It was like sprinting across stepping stones on a pond, except if she fell she wouldn’t get wet—she’d fall into the churning gears of an antique mechanism. So, not quite the same.

  Eva pushed herself up and rolled onto the roof. Heaving, she gazed up into Justin’s astonished face, one carriage up. He gawped at her as if she was insane. As Eva glanced down at the disappearing ground, she had to concede there might be something in that.

  The speed of the wheel increased—they must have been eager to get Justin back on terra firma. She didn’t have long.

  Over the rushing wind, she yelled, “Justin! I just want to talk. I’m unarmed.”

  There was a pause. “My name is not Justin Bieber!” He hid himself behind the lip of the carriage.

  Eva couldn’t help but smile. “I know.”

  “Well… good.” Another pause. In a slow, tentative move, he stuck his head over the edge of the carriage. With an unwavering stare into Eva’s eyes, he said solemnly, “They will kill me, you know.”

  “They won’t.” Eva shook her head. “They want to talk ab
out the terrorist incident in Lyon. Just questions, okay?”

  To Eva’s utter surprise, Justin laughed. A full, unbridled belly laugh.

  “Do you really think this is about terrorism?”

  Her brow furrowed. “What else would it be about?”

  “You… you don’t know?” He tilted his head and considered her. “Oh, sweet girl, if that is true, you need to leave Europe today and never come back.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because chaos is coming. A tempest. It is coming and nobody can stop it. Not you, not me.” He shook his head. “Where are you from anyway?”

  “MI6,” Eva replied.

  “You are English.”

  “No I’m bloody not, mate. I’m Australian.”

  “Then… I do not understand.” He tilted his head inquisitively. “How did you…”

  “It’s a long story. There were megalomaniacs, explosions, assassins and a pink umbrella. It was a whole palaver.” Eva inhaled, knowing time was short. “What about you? How did you get caught up in all this?”

  “Despite what the news media would have you believe, people with my skin colour are not all terrorists.”

  “I know that. But in my defence, your friends did blow themselves up in front of me.”

  “But not for terrorism. Fear isn’t The Tempest’s goal. There are more players at work here than you know.”

  “The Tempest? What do you mean The? The Tempest is actually a thing, an organization?”

  Justin tilted his head. “What did you think you were chasing? A whirlwind? The Tempest will wreak devastation across this continent.” He gazed at the ground. The wheel had reached its apex and begun to descend. “I do not have much time now.”

  Eva wondered what he was on about. If The Tempest was an organisation, of course they were terrorists. What else would they be?

  “If time is running out, what do you have to lose?” she asked.

  Justin knit his brow, as if contemplating the question. He rose on his knees and nodded as if permitting Eva to ask.

  “If Lyon wasn’t about terrorism, what was it about?”

  Justin shuffled uncomfortably and pulled at his bright shirt nervously. He held Eva’s gaze and took a deep gulp of air. The carriage continued to descend.