Two months ago

Mallory West closed her phone and frowned. Why would the American Director of Intelligence for Europe want a meeting with her? A private meeting at that? She checked her watch, went to the bathroom mirror and made unnecessary adjustments to hair and clothes, still puzzling for a reason.

The meeting was to be at the British Museum, home to the bust of Ramses the II, the Parthenon's Elgin Marbles, Egyptian mummies, and the Rosetta Stone. A spacious yet paradoxically, suitable setting for clandestine discourse. She entered the Great Court through the huge open space on the right side of the reading room, her heels echoing across the floor, and mounted the stairs. As she approached, the Director casually tipped a folded newspaper in greeting.

"Ms West."

"Director Duggan. I am intrigued by your invitation." She shifted her purse strap to the opposite shoulder.

"As I hoped you might be. We can discuss it right here, I think. No prying eyes. Just two visitors agog among the souvenirs of history." He handed her a museum brochure, which she opened and casually studied.

"Discuss what, exactly?"

"Ms West, due to a number of complex reasons, I am offering you an opportunity that I normally wouldn't."

Mallory glanced at the brochure again, before wetting her lips and turning to face him. "An opportunity." It wasn't a question, just cautious doubt.

"As Director of Intelligence for our Western Alliance, I cannot personally operate inside Europe. It could cause ructions all the way to both parliaments. As an ally, the SIS is in a far better position to, shall we say, take advantage."

"That would certainly depend upon the advantage offered, Director."

He smiled at a passing family with their young child. Mallory just quirked an eyebrow. "It is a unique situation."

He saw her face change, and smiled. "I know, you're wondering why I'm speaking with you and not your boss, Percy Carstairs. Right. It's because, Ms West, knowing Percy, it would be an all hands on deck approach, and this requires a much more delicate touch - a woman's touch shall we say."

She moved away from the wall and took a few steps up, looking back down at the Director. "I don't respond well to sexist pandering, Director?"

Duggan moved up to the same step. "I prefer thinking of it as gender compatibility - also an opportunity to advance your smouldering quest to become a station head."

Her look was dark and a jaw muscle twitched. "You need to confirm what you think you know before trying to use it as honey."

"I'll rephrase. It could go a long way to advancing the opportunity, should you wish to take it."

"Please, we both know you have plants all over Europe - all over the world for that matter. Why not use them?"

Duggan blew out a breath and sighed, turning to look across the court. "You'd be surprised to know that we don't have the presence you think we have. Our plants, as you call them are locals, source material only. The few NGOs we can count on are just that - few, and none positioned to utilize what I have."

"And exactly why did you specifically choose me?"

He considered her a moment, certain his hook had pricked curiosity, but uncertain as to whether it could be set. "Because, as I said this needs a delicate touch, something Percy lacks . . . as I'm sure you know."

Her laugh was harsh, and she glanced about, aware of others nearby. "I think you've wasted your time, Director. I don't operate independently, and I do not like being used - in any way."

Grant made a calming gesture, his own expression hard. "Please keep your voice down." He moved again, up a few more steps, away from some tourists that had stopped on the stairs, and she followed him automatically. I was hoping you might be more amenable to my offer. Think of the advantage. Do this for me and I will owe you a favour sometime."

"And what is this exactly?"

He smiled inside. A little tug and the hook set. "A name."

"A name?" Mallory stared at his bland expression.

"A name nobody else has."

While holding his eyes with her own, she tried to think of anybody they would want to know and didn't. "Is that all? What would I be expected to do with a name?" She shook her head and began moving down the steps.

"I guess I misjudged." He pursed his lips and glanced around the concourse. "I would have preferred not to use pressure, but you leave me no choice." His attention returned to her, and an unfathomable expression accompanied his next words that caused Mallory to catch her breath and just stare.

Duggan watched her, waiting.

Right away, Mallory saw the dangerous ground onto which she had stepped. Grant would spin this meeting another way to Percy, and did she think he would believe her over the word of Director Duggan? Not likely, given her recent grumbling about her status. She felt anger building, and struggled to hold it back.

"You set this up so that I wouldn't refuse." Her voice wavered.

"Only if you did refuse." His expression cold. "I am offering you a name inside The Guild."

"No. you want me to recruit whoever it is."

"It could be solid gold, Mallory."

"In return for reporting everything to you and not SIS - right?"

"Not everything, but I'm sure you will hear things that are mutually beneficial."

Mallory leaned on the rail and looked across the Great Court. She was damned both ways. If it came to light, her trust with Percy would vanish - maybe even her career. If she accepted, she would be in Duggan's book. She shifted to allow a family to climb past them, waiting until they were out of hearing. "You're a bastard, Grant."

"Sticks and stones, Ms West. Do you want the name?"

Her look was furious, but she swallowed another verbal abuse, and nodded reluctantly, knowing she had just become Director Duggan's source in SIS.

"Ava Kapova. She's Felix Kubachev's mistress." Duggan leaned beside her, smiling. "You and she can create your own playbook."

He passed her a small envelope, tipped his hat pleasantly and skipped down the stairs to the court floor. Mallory watched him go, her mind a clash of seething anger and unavoidable curiosity. The irony was not lost on her. She had, for all intents and purposes, become an agent for a foreign power - ally or not - tasked with creating another double agent.

How she accomplished this would require some careful thought.

The Recruitment

Six weeks ago - France

Excitement, mixed with anxiety, surged as Mallory watched the woman enter the crowded cafe, pause, and scan the room. The arranged meeting was about to take place. She had spent a couple of weeks researching all she could about the name and the woman, finding specific information curiously absent from the expected documents, but then again, nothing that raised any flags.

Duggan's envelope had held the key to the approach to be used as her means of recruitment. Ava had a child, and the child, a young girl, presence unknown, would be the bait to enlisting the woman's co-operation. Grant's reliability was still a focus of her investigation, and Mallory had gone over all the ramifications she could think of. Try as she did, there was no definite reason seen for his actions beyond what he said - still, instincts bubbled uncertainly.

Several days of patiently haunting locations said to be Ava's regular stops finally paid off, and Mallory introduced herself as a possible threat who could be a saviour. The threat was the mention of her five year old daughter, and the saviour portion was her promise to help protect her.

She noticed the expensive clothes and the well maintained figure manoeuvring around the tables, then taking a seat across from her. It was pull the trigger time. There was a slight tremor of the woman's fingers, belying her outward calm. Mallory didn't speak, staying still and sipping her coffee, she just studied the woman carefully.

She was definitely attractive, slightly more makeup than necessary, but all the same, quite alluring. Certainly someone Felix would choose, if all the attempted profiles of the man were true. Mallory put down her cup and raised her eyebrows, "Care for some tea?"

The woman leaned forward and half whispered, "I don't have the time."

"Very well," Mallory nodded in return.

"This is your meeting." The woman forced out a sigh and relaxed somewhat. 

"First I would like to hear once again why you agreed to this meeting." Mallory smiled. "For the record."

She set her purse on the table and sat back, legs crossed. "You obviously know about my daughter. You promise guaranteed protection for her." The statement was quiet, but desperation coloured the words. "In return for information on The Guild."

Mallory sipped her tea, clocking all the little bits of body language, and the faint Russian accent, all the while thinking. "Why does your daughter need this guaranteed protection?"

For the next thirty minutes Ava told a story about her child, and why she was a secret. Mallory considered the tale, mentally highlighting certain aspects. Felix's mistress was a mother. Confirmed. What about the father? Was it Felix and he didn't know?

"What about the father, you never mentioned him?"

"He is not important." She moved her unused utensils around. "He is to have nothing to do with this."

"Does he know where your daughter is now?"

"No - and he must never know." She looked around, checked her watch, and breathed impatiently.

"It would help if I knew who he was."

"You've heard my terms. If they can't be met, then we have no business."

The fact that her plea was not for herself, but for her child, struck home. Mallory could well appreciate the feeling. Grant's gender comment flashed in her head and she frowned. Seeing the woman's waning interest and nervousness, she probed her relentlessly for errors or cracks in the story. She asked after Felix and was told Felix knew nothing of the child. Ava wanted insurance - just in case.

Satisfied with what she had heard, Mallory explained how she would make arrangements for the daughter to be registered in an English private school under an alias. They would need to meet once again for Mallory to give her all the necessary papers and forms to complete, and transport for the daughter.

Mallory watched the woman leave the cafe, her own heart beating with excitement. She sat for a while going over everything again. Poking in her thoughts for loopholes, inconsistencies, and any subtleties she may have missed. This was truly gold - and not necessarily to be shared with anyone . . . just yet. Her first action would be to secure the anonymous safety of the child.