Chapter 6

VENICE

Lady Patricia Prendergast pretended she didn't see the two obvious East European goons watching her from the other side of the sidewalk eating area on St. Mark's square. It was that time of day when the sun was at an advantageous angle and the pigeons were taking a siesta on the other side of the plaza.

It was indeed unfortunate that she was alone but her assignment was only as a courier and that usually precluded any chance of a "sidekick" to keep her company. Her recent vacation back at home was still fresh in her memory and she was feeling the regrets of not finding a decent way of life that fit in with her ancestral home of her parents and forebears. She had made close friends with the new "hunt-master" Mister Holmes and had dubbed him "Sherlock" because he was good at finding her under the covers and deducing the shortest distance to her needy fanny. The vacation was all too short but she knew they were short-handed in the field and volunteered for the courier duty just to give the over-worked new staff some respite from the constant struggle to keep up with events unfolding with the speed of light.

Some of the young pranksters that hung out looking to rip off a tourist were sidling about in the afternoon shadows but they usually trained their sights on a fat German tourist or a rich American. They didn't go near Patricia because she didn't quite fit into the tourist mold especially as a lone female. They silently speculated she was some important man's mistress just killing time before her afternoon tryst in a secluded bedroom. Perhaps, even a call girl from one of the other big cities in town for some party that required additional female hostesses. Then, there was the fact she was wearing the unusual shoes with the heavy heels and the sharp pointed toes with metal tips that could be used as a weapon. She didn't look the least bit fragile and that was all the warning signal they needed to steer clear.

The orange colored courier bag was inside her oversized shoulder purse out of sight and safely hidden from prying eyes. She had no idea what was in the bag, only that she needed to get it to the clearing office in Trieste before midnight. Almost a decade earlier, she had made similar runs from the further east bloc countries and even from Vienna to transmit diplomatic communiques that needed the personal touch. She had the small pistol for emergencies in her garter band above her knee and never used air transport because of the new rules about clearing security. It was far too much hassle to bypass the screens that were geared to endless questions and lack of intelligent screeners. The only ones who seemed to have any point of reference were the Israelis and they were not completely trustworthy from her point of view.

Her cell phone was playing a romantic tango but she only had it set on medium low so it would not disturb other patrons out on the terrace. She saw that the identification code was for her contact in Trieste so she picked up and answered quickly in Italian.

"Venice and all is on schedule."

The person on the other end knew there had been no problems and simply replied,

"Proceed as instructed and check in at alternate Alpha before midnight."

She simply hung up because it was exactly what she had expected. The alternate was not uncommon because it was always better to deviate slightly in such matter so as not to fall into a routine. After all, she was doing nothing illegal or confrontational. The opposition was probably well aware she was on a normal run and she suspected they were not overly concerned by her movements. They knew where her clearing centers were and they knew she generally worked alone so nothing was out of the ordinary. Patricia was putting away her phone when a rather large and sweating businessman sat down in the seat opposite her with a sigh of relief to get the weight off his ankles. He was a large man and needed a handkerchief to constantly wipe his brow to get the moisture out of his eyes. She didn't recognize him but neither smiled or frowned to give away her thoughts.

"Excuse please, Madame, Nicolaus has bad case of too much heat for my big body. I like the shade here to cool me down."

She just nodded her head because she was not quite certain if this joker was on her side, working for the opposition, or just some poor pilgrim who needed a chair to sit in.

She decided real quick when he told her in perfect English,

"You should be careful on the train to Trieste, my dear. Those two thugs over there are certain you are in possession of more than the usual communications not trusted to the wire services. Apparently, some of their Bio-research has gone missing and I am afraid Trieste is a hot spot right now. I would recommend taking the earlier train in case they try something that might slow you down."

Lady Patricia was secretly delighted that the boring mission was finally picking up a little bit of excitement but she was miffed because her control had not bothered to share any of the details that this stranger was passing with no protocol. Of course, she didn't trust it, but it did sound quite convincing and she general went with her gut feeling in such matters. Taking his advice to heart, she rose from the table, left a small tip and headed to the nearby train station carrying only her bag and a tiny valise that held a change of clothing and some essential cosmetics. Most of the males in the proximate area kept their eyes glued to her swaying hips and heart-shaped backside that seemed to move with the rhythm of the tango even when she was walking. Fortunately, the short walk was on a flat surface and she was able to navigate the distance quickly boarding the train with little fanfare and managed to get a compartment vacant except for her.

The two goons from the restaurant in the square boarded the train at the last minute to keep their presence a secret but Patricia marked them down and was glad to see they were at the other end of the long passenger train that was certainly no "bullet" train but made excellent time with few stops all the way to Trieste in the east. She remembered the trip to The American Air Force base in Aviano as Harry's close friend but there was no time for side trips on this journey. Apparently, the pair of watchers was just that and they gave her wide berth all the way to the gateway to the Alps. At one of the short stops on the way a uniformed member of the Italian police boarded the train and joined her in her compartment. She could tell from his bored demeanor and the fact he was reading a dreadful "soap opera" book that was filled with supposed spontaneous sex that he was not there as any ploy to take advantage of her when her guard was down. She took in his splendid uniform with the feathered hat and the highly polished black leather boots and had to admit he made an exciting visual image that most girls would swoon over. She kept her head behind the newspaper not wanting to enter into the no-man's land of verbal interaction with a strange male no matter how physically attractive.