It was a bleak location. The cloud was low and the rain was fine but persistent and the early evening sunset gave the shingle beach an empty in hospitable feel. The bland concrete steps up to the cliff tops did nothing to invoke inspiration and the whole area felt abandoned. It wasn’t surprising that One-Ten had choosen here for the rendezvous- particularly on a terrain she couldn’t handle herself. Arthur guessed she was still angry over the whole blackmail incident with Vicky, they can’t all be cases out on the shores of the Caribbean.
His partner-cum-ward Miss Julia Sevenpenny was sitting on a large rock and had decided to fight off the elements by wrapping herself in the chequed Picnic blanket he had left in the boot of the car. He’d long learned to tolerate the local atmosphere and chuckled slightly to himself as the young lady savoured a cup of tea from her thermos. He looked at her, her amazing almond eyes were misting up and her complexion was changing, he rose from his own spot and crossed over to her, removing his long trench coat as he did and wrapping it around her shoulders.
“Thank you Arthur,” Sevenpenny said sweetly and gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek.
“She really does know how to pick them,” Arthur said wearily, “even I can’t tolerate East Runton beach for long in this weather.”
“Do you think they are going to..” Sevenpenny stopped as she heard the sound of pebbles moving underfoot. The two agents turned in the direction of the sound and saw three burly men in thick coats and David Crockett hats heading in their direction. They both rose and faced their company. A grey haired man with sharp blue eyes and an incredibly bushy moustache stepped out in front, “Moscav will take the Ashes..”
“And West Bromwich Albion will win the FA Cup,” replied Arthur. There was a moment of silence and the two men hugged. “Grigor, it is good to see you.”
“And it is fine to see you again too comrade,” replied Grigor. Miss Sevenpenny noticed his accent was very strongly Russian.
“Is the whole of your Organisation listening in?” She asked sternly.
Grigor looked glowered at her, then turned back to Arthur. “I like this one, she’s got nerve.” Grigor laughed and faced Miss Sevenpenny, “My dear, this set up is based on mutual trust and understanding. We at the Organisation respect that trust.”
Arthur smiled, “So we have apprehended a shipment of coffee beans en route from Cuba to Formbodia and guess what, it wasn’t just Coffee. It also contained a precious metal..”
“If it is Gold just say it is,” said Grigor.
“It’s Silver,” replied Arthur. “It is used in the Photography industry in some quarters I believe but there was something else.” Arthur produced an envelope from his trouser pocket and handed it to Grigor. “Take it and have it checked, I want to know if you have the same answer as us.”
Grigor smiled, “And for you, we learnt of a stolen British passport in the middle East.”
“Grigor that is petty stuff,” snapped Arthur.
“oh we have a photo of the thief, that’s why we let him go,” smiled Grigor and produced a photo. Arthur looked and for a moment went pale, then his eyes lit up. “One thing else, if your intel on the silver matches what do you suggest?”
“A pooling of resources,” replied Arthur.
“Oh you owe us now comrade,” smiled Grigor.
“Hardly, that’d imply the scores were even, and they are in my favour.” Arthur grinned, “Kenny Ball was an overlooked Trumpet player.”
“And Chekov was an underrated author.” The two men shock hands and both parties departed in opposite directions.
“What’s in the envelope?” asked Miss Sevenpenny.
“A small item needing dusting for prints, if they match our info… It’ll be interesting.”
“Well it is who they belong to,” answered Arthur.
“And who is that?”
“At this moment I don’t want to say,”
“Who was in the photograph?”
Arthur paused and smiled, “an old friend.”
Daily Writing Prompt: Espionage