Chapter Text
Alex picked up a week’s worth of groceries and her information briefing at the local market.
“Some of our own arrived in the city a few days ago,” her handler, Robert, told her indirectly, as he placed what appeared to be a small book of quotations on top of her pack of coffee beans. “The Liaison Office has a new ambassador and a whole bunch of new staff. Have you seen any of them yet? You’re not too far from there.”
“No,” Alex said. “At least, not that I know of.”
“Well,” he patted the booklet. “There’s more information on that in there. And that’s really all I have for you for now. Keep on keeping your eyes open.”
She nodded and hoisted her supplies, thanking him as any patron would and blending back into the crowd. It was still early, the sun was just coming over the horizon and it would be another two hours till she would open the doors to the café. As she made her way through the streets of Beijing, already bustling in the early morning, she cracked open the booklet with one hand, taking a brief glance at the contents. It was all ciphertext, strings of numbers sprawling across the pages. Alex squinted at the code–the complete key was back at her apartment, but she had memorized some of it. American…Delegation?...arrives late October? The? Their—
Without looking up, Alex rounded a corner and then immediately found the booklet jostled in her grip as she slammed into something. She stumbled back and grasped at her groceries, only to be steadied by the stranger. He had instinctively reached out to catch her bag, and as a result had shoved it back into her chest. His other hand had landed briefly on her arm.
“Oh! Are you ok?” he exclaimed, stepping back. “I’m so sorry. Wait—do you speak English?” He had a distinctly American accent, and was dressed more formally than she was used to, sporting a dark wool overcoat with the collar slightly popped, a deep navy suit with faint pinstripes, and horsebit loafers.
“I—Yes…I do speak English,” she said slowly, slipping the booklet into her pocket.
“That’s great!” his eyes lit up—he had the most incredibly blue eyes she had ever seen—but then he suddenly took on an abashed expression. “I seem to be…lost. I don’t suppose you know your way around here any better than I do?”
“I might. Where are you trying to go?” Alex answered his question with her own out of habit. It crossed her mind that he could be a member of the new American delegation Robert had mentioned, he almost had to be, but why was he out alone like this? It occurred to her that this could be some kind of counterintelligence ploy, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that this man was somehow familiar.
“Well, I came from the U.S. Liaison Office,” he explained. “It’s like an American embassy—but, anyway. I don’t suppose you know how to get back there from here?”
“You haven’t gone too far,” she told him. “I can show you the way back, if you want to follow me.”
“That would be fantastic,” he smiled, falling in beside Alex. “Would you like me to carry your bag? I feel bad for almost knocking it over earlier.”
“That’s ok,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure? You’re helping me out, it’s the least I can do.”
“If you insist,” Alex replied, handing over the groceries. He picked up the brown bag and tucked it in the crook of his arm before continuing.
“Can’t believe my luck in just stumbling into another American out in the street,” he said. “I was warned it might get a bit lonely in a new country, but if the rest of my time goes this well then there shouldn’t be too much to worry about.”
“So I take it you haven’t been here long?”
“Not long at all, just got in a few days ago actually.”
“And what are your impressions of Beijing so far?”
“It seems wonderful, but I’ve hardly left the Liaison Office since I arrived. I was told not to leave without a guide and…honestly, I probably should have listened to their advice. I’ve only learned the most basic Mandarin and this,” he waved his free arm in a sweeping motion at the signs, sights, and sounds of the city before them, “is admittedly a bit overwhelming. But anyway, that’s why I came out here this morning, to try to get an authentic picture of the city without someone holding my hand.”
“Oh, really?” Alex replied, hoping to draw out a bit more from him. She couldn’t tell if the situation he had gotten himself into was the product of overconfidence or naivete. Or both.
“You sure ask a lot of questions,” he said in turn, smirking. “And I’ve yet to learn anything about my valiant rescuer.”
“There’s not much to know.”
“Well, let’s start with something simple. What’s your name?”
“It’s Alex,” she blurted out.
“And I’m George,” he said. “It’s great to have met you, Alex.”
“Equally."
“And so what brings you to Beijing?” he asked as they passed a thicket of street vendors.
She cursed herself for letting him take control of the conversation like that. She was still a relative newcomer to the domain of espionage, with hardly a year under her belt as a true field agent, but such missteps still rankled.
“Oh, you know. Work,” she simply said, trying to pass off the question with the most mundane of answers.
“Well, that’s often the case, isn’t it?” George said, tactfully taking her deliberate obfuscation in stride.
“So you’re in politics I’m guessing? Some kind of an advisor?” Alex tried to steer the conversation back into her court. He seemed too old to be merely an aide, too self assured even in an unfamiliar situation, but she couldn’t see someone as senior as an ambassador or chief of staff pulling this sort of move.
George paused for a second, scanning the vicinity. They were passing near Alex’s café, though on the opposite side of the street.
“How do you know I’m not just a…tea sommelier? They could’ve flown in an expert just for that, you know,” he quipped.
“Bringing an American tea specialist to China? Seems redundant, don’t you think?”
“Ah, maybe,” he said good-naturedly, not seeming to take it personally. “But what about you? It is rather a coincidence that the first person I stumble into happens to be an American as well.”
“Me? I just fancied a change.”
“Quite the change, from America to Red China…Don’t you think?”
“Maybe,” it was Alex’s turn to reply. She could go into her long, rehearsed explanation, tell him how she was born in Guangzhou to a British father and American mother in the evening years of the clash between the Nationalists and the Communists. How her family moved to America. How she had returned but a year ago to reconnect with her youthful memories and experience the country reborn after war. It was something close to the truth, but she preferred to skip it if she could help it.
“I’m sure you’ll find out for yourself soon,” she concluded.
And then they arrived.
The Liaison Office was unmistakable: a walled off compound, a miniature Forbidden City of its own. An American flag snapped in the breeze atop a high flagpole visible in the central courtyard. As they approached the gates, a young woman dashed out to meet them.
“Ambassador Bush!” she cried, “Oh, thank God. We’ve been wondering where you were, looking everywhere—were you…grocery shopping? And who is—”
Wait…Ambassador Bush? This was the Ambassador himself?
“Nothing to worry about,” he said. “I was lucky enough to meet Alex here who showed me around. These are actually her groceries.”
The woman’s mouth opened slightly before she regained her composure.
“Wh—Oh. Alex…” she turned to her, looking with silent appraisal. “I’m Florence Dimebuck, diplomatic assistant. Thank you for keeping Ambassador Bush safe.”
As Dimebuck studied her, Alex got the distinct sense she was frustrated that Alex had apparently done what she considered to be her job. Her cheeks were flushed from activity, and she looked to be slightly younger than Alex, but still managed to project firm disapproval.
“Yes, thanks again for helping a lost foreigner out,” George said, cutting through the tension. “I know it’s early still, but I think this may have made my day.”
“Oh. That’s good,” Alex said, taken aback. “I’m glad.”
“Well, I’d better get back to it. As Ms. Dimebuck here mentioned, I’m the new Chief of the Liaison Office here, so I’ve got my hands full with this place.”
He offered her groceries back to her and smiled.
“I hope to see you around, Alex.”
Alex read over the report twice. Arriving back at the café, she dumped the groceries on the counter and rushed up to her apartment above, spinning through the combination on a small locked safe hidden in a drawer under the kitchen counter. It popped open and she grabbed her decryption key, fanning it out on her desk.
The new American delegation is arriving in late October. Their principal member, Ambassador George Bush, is set to start his term on October 21st. Prior to this, you can expect a build up of American personnel in and around the Liaison Office; support and diplomatic staff are being expanded. Although the operation will be larger, no major changes in their modus operandi is expected. There are no plans for drastic action or joint operations, though Ambassador Bush seems keen on his new role. He has previous diplomatic experience, serving as Ambassador to the UN from ’71 to ’73, and appears to be a man of ambition, moving steadily through the ranks. Fairly obvious he has presidential ambitions. However, intelligence suggests not all amongst the foreign policy apparatus are impressed by him. In particular, National Security Advisor Kissinger and former President Nixon do not hold him in high regard and view him as too soft. Ultimately it remains to be seen how his tenure will fair, but it will likely not affect you greatly. Continue gathering general impressions as directed.
Having just met Ambassador Bush herself, Alex was rather disconcerted to suddenly be reading such a detached assessment. It was a combination of feeling dirty for being privy to information that had not been directly provided, especially when not all of it was flattering, and the simmering thrill of learning more about him. That’s what spies do, she reminded herself, but still, this felt different. Maybe it was because she thought he was handsome. Damn it. He was handsome and when she thought back on him saying he hoped to see her soon her insides fluttered. Did she really care for the opinions of a crooked ex-President and his advisor in comparison to what she had personally seen? Hell, maybe it was good to be considered soft in the eyes of such individuals.
Alex felt a certain defensiveness coming over her: out of spite for the written slights, she hoped he would succeed. And more than anything she hoped she would see him again.