La Tâche
Happy Bastille Day! Viva la France, mais pas la Revolution!
Olivie checked her watch and then compared it to the clock that protruded from the corner building on the intersection of the street. According to that clock, he had a couple minutes before he was late, but according to her watch, she had been waiting five minutes and she was on time. The waiter had asked her several times if she had wanted anything to drink until she finally broke down an ordered a croissant with coffee. When her drink finally arrived, she could see his bright yellow car turning the corner and parking in a little lot behind the café.
She sighed and took a sip of the bitter liquid in her cup. At least he wasn’t too late, she thought. She pulled out a cigarette and then decided against it when she saw he was smoking one as he came up to her table. He smiled as he sat down. He was young and attractive and dressed as an everyday young adult, contrasting with her starched business suit.
“I didn’t think you drank le café,” he said grabbing her cup and taking a sip.
“You were late enough I had to order something.”
“Mais non, ma chère,” he said turning to look at the clock. “I’m right on time.”
“Regardless, I’ve got an assignment for you.”
“On Bastille Day?”
“The festivities tonight will be enough of a distraction.”
“What do you need?”
“Not the usual, so don’t get too excited—”
“Never.”
“—but we have boat coming in on the Seine into Paris with some interesting cargo. You are to wait for the boat, take the package, and return to headquarters right away. Nothing showy. The boat is called La Voyageur de la Lune and her captain is M. Lorrain. He’s worked for us a long time. If he asks for money you have to tell him the monkeys have it on the other side of the river. In those exact words; it’s a code to make sure the right person is taking it.”
“What is this package?” he asked tapping the loose ash of the end of his cigarette onto the ground.
“Je ne sais pas et il n’est pas nessecaire que je sache.” ("I don’t know and it’s not necessary that I know.")
“All right.”
He picked up her coffee and took a large gulp. “Are you going to eat your croissant?”
“No, have it,” she said pushing it towards him.
“I haven’t eaten breakfast.”
“You should have. Besides, it’s practically lunch.”
“I was busy running errands.”
“Political errands or grocery shopping?”
He laughed. “Grocery shopping. I said I was loyal to the company and I’m not going to leave it now. Not when they pay me well and pay rent on a nice apartment. I couldn’t get a better job.”
“You probably could.”
“Believe me, you can’t. I haven’t lived this well in months.”
“And yet, you still can’t eat breakfast in the morning.”
“I know you’re suspicious, but I was out of everything.”
“Suspicious? If I deny it you won’t believe me. But I’m not the one who first came up with the idea of dissuading you from bringing a gun tonight.”
“Oh?”
“You won’t need it. I told you it’s low risk.”
He nodded, his mouth full of food and coffee. She rolled her eyes; at least he didn’t talk with his mouth full. She put some euros on the table and stood up.
“See you tomorrow at Le Petit Couchon. Same time.”
“Don’t be early,” he said as she started to leave. “And thanks for breakfast.”
