The Remote Control Job

An excerpt

The lights were still glowing in a few windows at the Russian consulate. Getting

closer to its huge and massive gate, Verotich raised his hand and switched on the car's

interior light. The gates opened up immediately and he was admitted without delay.

His beloved American car was in a continuous motion and the gates were shut right

after his car crossed it. This most convenient and ingenious procedure was conceived

and invented by him alone, he reminded himself proudly, each time he crossed the

consulate's huge gate.

Parking his car right in front of the consulate's wide entrance, he switched off the car's

lights and engine and got off. Two more vans with the few crew members who

covered him a while ago, were still out on duty; occupied in some other errands and

were not expected till late that night. Thus he won't block anyone's way. These were

the hours he liked most, he thought with satisfaction, walking in an agile gait towards

the wide entrance. Operating in such a giant city as this metropolis, was an easy game

for him. Ignoring proudly the pair of guards at the building’s entrance, he crossed the

wide and well-lighted hall and climbed the broad staircase on his way to the first

floor. The door to the office, which he was looking for stood open. The bright office's

lights divided the somber corridor in two.

'Come on in Verotich, come in!' Called out the man who was sitting in there, behind

an impressive mahogany desk. Opening one of its many drawers he brought out a

 bottle of Vodka and two glasses, while comrade Verotich drew a chair back, and

settled down on it, facing his boss.

'Are you sure there was no surveillance tonight, you were not followed?' His boss

asked in a formal tone, avoiding the use of professional slang on purpose, the way

they often used back at home, all those haughty beaurocrats who did nothing but put

on that kind of patronizing show off.

'Yes I'm sure, positively sure! I did a double check course and one more in the subway

tunnel; I had the confirmation sign of our crews, they have found both of us the

subject-matter and me, clean.'

'Good, ' said the boss pouring their drinks. The young man was very loyal, knew his

 job and he liked him as if he were his own son. 'Well, how was it, I'm listening.'

'The actuation code didn't work. He hadn't seen it in the papers and even if he did

receive any of the postcards… Well, he couldn't have grasped the message, such a

thick head he seems to be. Why, he almost assaulted me as a matter of fact – and he's

 big, god forbid.'

 I doubted that foolish bit of nonsense from the very start. Thought the boss. “The day

has come...?” He was nearly tempted to quote it loudly, mockingly. The gaudy

charlatan that came out with that idea, that dubious conception, should be put todeath! It isn’t Center’s first blunder, nor is it going to be their last. The money and

other resources that have been wasted did not enrage him, as much as the risk that

such bit of foolishness as it was in itself could jeopardize everything, the whole

operation! On the other hand he could not ignore the fact that they did manage to

 predict the exact pattern in which the subject-matter would be treated by his own

authorities – plus the reactions of the subject-matter himself, which was not an simple

attainment. But their accuracy in that subtle issue enhanced even more his anger and

frustration. He did not intend to share these conclusions with Verotich of course,

though he was a man he could count on without the slightest doubt.

 

'What did persuade him then?' He asked his young assistant.

'Her name did it.’ Answered Verotich.

'Well she's a remarkable woman...' observed the boss, regretting on the spot his hasty

remark. He should have been wiser not to spill out that bit of information! He scolded

himself, wondering at his own irresponsibility, while visualizing her exquisite beauty

in his mind's eye at the same time. Learning all those details and seeing blown up

 prints of that extremely exotic beauty and a few days later, having a full live view of 

her was another blunder of theirs, he summed it up frustrated. They could not stand the temptation, they had to boast about the extraordinary deal they had reached.

Showing off their gains, which culminated in that incredibly beautiful and cunning 

 young woman. And that clown their subject-matter, must have spent several nights inher bed... Just to think of it! Spreelsky was his father's name, before he had to change

it on migrating to America at the beginning of the century. Although that father of hiswas born in Kiev, as the rest of his forefathers – somehow that name seemed to reek of 

a certain smell. But he can't be a Jew boy, and he isn't one! He isn't bright enough to

be one. Thus that old fear was checked and rechecked time and again, without any

 positive results. Driving away these bothering suspicions, he turned again to his

young assistant. 'There's one thing I'd like to remind you Verotich. Although it seems

that they have lost all interest in him even before he was repatriated; we must keep on

acting with the utmost caution...!'

Verotich's aptitude and loyalty were above any possible doubt, but it was irrelevant.

He had to maintain his firm hold over him. The expression on Verotich's face did not

change, he nodded obediently and emptied his glass; waiting patiently for his boss to

get on with his usual procedure. Whenever he made a successful move or reported on

some hopeful prospects, he had to be reprimanded; as if he did some foolish mistake

or brought back bad news. Thank god I’m used to it, from my first days in the serviceand I’m able to cope with such small hidden darts, even with the poisoned ones with

ease. There were no threats sneaked in between the last sentences he had to listen to,

  just a hint of some reproof, a slight insinuation, well that's life. He told himself 

stoically. It wasn't after all typical to the service alone. As far as he had known and

heard of, things were even rougher in the party's circles, so there was nothing to

complain of in fact.

'We must bear in mind the fact that from this stage on, ' went on his boss. 'Things are

going to move much faster!'

'But of course!' Interrupted him Verotich inspite of himself. 'That's exactly what we

did from the first day he was repatriated, what I mean is we're acting with caution.

The man is clean, it’s a fact. We had all the time we needed to verify and establish that

fact.' He added with just a hint of impatience, but checked himself at the last moment.

'It’s no more than an assumption and though activities as observations, surveillance or 

any other means of contacts by the other side, are not visible at the moment – still he

might be doing their job without our knowledge. It’s a possibility although it seems

absurd, I do agree; but, it must be taken into consideration. You would never have

thought of such a possibility yourself, would you Verotich?' Smiled to him his boss in

exuberance, and poured them a second round of Vodka.

'Gosh, that's right, it could have never crossed my mind!' Smiled back to him

Verotich, with an almost automatic spontaneity.  Just what the hell do I care! He

thought in a flash of disgust and anger.  I've got one or two more meetings with that 

moron of a subject-matter, and that female Nicole or whatever her name is, takes thewhole cursed operation over. How does she fit in, or who the hell she is? That's none

of my business! I don't have to know it, and that fancy French name can be the “nome

 

de guerre” of a male operator for all I care! I didn't make that breach of security,thank god, and I don't have to remember it either! Thus he calmed himself down,

while listening to his boss's anecdotes. As his boss's cover was being the consul's

chauffeur, that precious job offered him many opportunities, to enrich his collection of 

anecdotes.