Chapter 2: Restaurant Surveillance
After checking in his wool coat, Mac Harper strolled nonchalantly toward a sizable round table in the rear of an elegant restaurant owned by one of New York's top chefs. He spied his bosses, Danielle Reynolds and U.S Ambassador Henry Towler, glaring impatiently at the entrance to the dining room. Mac tried not to let his eyes meet their scowls. They both had half-eaten dishes of food and salad before them. Mac rushed to sit down and a bored waiter immediately brought him a menu. Mac didn't need to look it over.
"Our specials tonight are beef stroga…"
"Give me a T-bone steak, medium well with all the fixings, and a cold one, please."
"Umm…sir, how would you like your potato? Baked, boiled, mashed?"
"Baked, and don't hold back on the sour cream and chives, throw some bacon bits on there too, maybe a little cheddar, yeah, that's good. Just gimme a house salad, French dressing and the Yankee bean soup will suffice."
The waiter scribbled on his pad, his brows raised at the uncultured choice of dinner. It was a meal more suited toward a neighborhood diner. "For your vegetables? We have asparagus, artichokes…"
"Broccoli and uh, artichoke hearts are fine." Mac grinned.
"Very well, and for the cold one?"
"Budweiser from the tap is perfect."
The waiter snapped his pad shut and flipped his pen behind the ear as he made a dramatic exit.
Mac sat back lazily and strummed his fingers waiting for someone to speak. If he had gambled on Dani, he would have won the jackpot.
"You're an hour late. Let's hear it."
"I was doing my job, Dani. I finally got some Intel worth reporting and I couldn't let it go. Do you mind that I had to go home to shower and put on this monkey suit? The grime was a killer to get out of my nails, not to mention the beard glue on my face. I nearly ripped skin off. Why couldn't we just meet at the studio and order a pizza pie? I would have went half on that and Henry could have brought the booze."
Dani rolled her eyes and looked skyward. "You're incorrigible! You could have called! I told you the studio's being painted and fumigated, that's why you and the models have the week long break."
Mac laughed. "Break? All I've been doing this week is breaking my back, breaking bottles, nearly breaking my nose…again, break dancing…that was fun."
Henry cleared his throat sternly. "Children, class has begun. Mac, did you get anything at all?"
"Sort of?"
"Is that a question? What does that mean?"
"It means, we have big crates being shipped into our harbor but nobody knows who, what, why…and nobody wants to talk, except for one guy, his name is Pa."
"Pa? You mean like, 'Little House on the Prairie' Pa?" Dani asked.
"Exactly, but Charles Ingalls he ain't! You don't need his real name, but he's the go-to guy of the city, ask anyone."
"So, what did Pa have to say about the crates?" Henry questioned, pouring more red wine into his and Dani's glass.
"He didn't see the contents, but he suspects they're military because of all the red-tape fluttering around the harbor. It wasn't much to go on until he told me who might be running the show."
Mac leaned forward and munched on a small buttered roll. "Henry, what would you say about a group of well-dressed, clean-cut men of various national backgrounds, watching over the shipment and delivery of these crates as if their lives depended on it?"
"Mob?"
"Nope."
"Drug lords?" Dani offered.
"Nahh. This doesn't seem to involve drugs. Otherwise, Pa would have known more about it."
"Okay, I'll bite."
"Foreign Diplomats." Mac said wryly and gulped down some water.
Henry looked incredulously at him. "What? You mean to say these men are…"
"I don't know for sure, but I'm thinking they work for the good old U.S. of A."
Mac knew Henry didn't appreciate his accusations, since he was a United States Ambassador. Mac softened his finger pointing. "Okay, maybe they're observers or assistants to Diplomats. We all know the real bigwigs wouldn't get their hands dirty. Henry, didn't you tell me that next week is a U.N. meeting? Suppose these characters arrived early enough to handle their shipments?"
Henry stroked his chin and looked to Dani. "He's right. There's a meeting to be held on the 9th about Palestinian rights, we have observers from the Middle East, Cuba, Russia, Hungary–a bunch of places. Mac, you can't be implying that they are involved in weapons theft?"
Mac counted off the countries on his fingers. "Pa said he heard all different accents, Russian and Italian, even African. It's possible there are some New York crime lords involved with this transfer. Come on, Henry, let's not be coy. There's corruption everywhere."
Dani swallowed a bite of her salmon. "Wait, does anyone here have a clue as to what they want from the crates? Don't tell me it's supercomputers again?"
"I think we quashed that one, Dani." Mac gazed at the carpeting lost in thought until his food came. The aroma perked him up and he dug in quickly. "This will help me concentrate better, I'm starving!" Through a mouthful of steak and potato, he offered an idea. "The FIM 92A-Stingers. They just produced a whole new line of them a couple of months back, right, Henry?"
"Yes." Henry fidgeted. He didn't want to discuss government details in public.
Dani eyed both men, bewildered. "What in the world is a stinger?"
"Its an infra-red homing surface to air-missile, it can easily be shoulder fired by one person. A couple of thousand went into production with improved seekers. If they got into the wrong hands, everyone in this city better learn to duck."
"That's great advice Mac, never mind they may have added new heat seeking technology." Dani noted smartly. "Ducking won't stop it. What if they want to use it to kill an official or someone of rank, oh no! Air force 1?"
"Having one of these, anything's possible. My guess is for plain power. Henry, didn't they just develop a couple hundred of these babies for OC?" Mac slurped his soup and Dani swatted him.
Henry coughed to cover over Mac's announcement. "Thanks for not saying that too loudly, Mac."
"Guys, I know I'm just the fashion photographer here, but you're losing me…fast. I get what the weapon is for, but what's this about an OC?"
"Its just stuff about the Soviet war in Afghanistan, it's all a big mess, but not something we have to worry about on this case." Mac noted, overlooking the warning glances from Henry to keep silent. He couldn't necessarily give away in a crowded restaurant that to the CIA, OC meant Operation Cyclone.
"Okay, how about this?" Dani asked. "Does anyone want to tell me why we're involved in this case at all? Henry, we help individuals in trouble, we don't go hunting down weapons thieves or foreign diplomats. What's our role here?"
Henry looked to Mac gravely. "All right. Here it is. I received a call from the Secretary of Defense, they want me to use my best Outrider to recover the missing shipments as quickly as possible, without all the fanfare."
Mac nearly choked on his steak bone as he gnawed the last of the meat off. "You mean to tell me I had to play pimps and junkies all week and you already knew what was in the crates?"
"Did you think we wouldn't notice crates of missing military weaponry that were just designed? I'm sorry, but I was put under the strictest confidence not to tell anyone, even my Outriders. They wanted additional confirmation and you got it for them. Are you up for this, Mac?"
"You played a pimp!" Was all Dani could muster. "Mac! How degrading, to the women and you!" She scolded.
"Arr, you weren't supposed to know that one."
"You talk too much, Mac." Dani huffed.
"It wasn't as awful as it sounds. I think I even managed to convince a few to go back home and wipe the slate clean, one of them was only seventeen! I had to scuffle with some guys trying to beat on her." Mac downed the last of his beer, sensing Henry's growing irritation. He'd just have to add this week's adventures to his private journals.
"Anyway, I'm back in one piece, and Henry, I'm up for anything. It's about time I got some action around here."
The last month proved fruitless in the Outrider business so he had to keep playing up more than the usual appearances as Dani's male model and magazine boy-toy for everything from multi-colored K-Mart sweaters to flashy Armani suits. All the attention he garnered for his outstanding good looks often embarrassed him, but Dani could only say that, it was 'the price of glamour.'
The waiter returned to clear their plates and offer up a first-rate dessert menu. Mac went for the cherry cheesecake with caramel swirl, Dani, the Chocolate-raspberry mousse cake and Henry declined, claiming he needed to watch his sugar intake. Mac couldn't help but think all the casual drinking wasn't doing him any favors, but he wasn't one to point out others shortcomings. He was laden with his own, despite how perfect everyone who merely glimpsed him seemed to think he was.
As they carried on in trifle conversations, a lone woman stared intrigued from a single table a few feet away. She swirled her wine around the long-stemmed glass and eyed Mac's profile keenly. She had all the pictures she needed, generous applications of lipstick picked up their conversation. She tucked her make-up compact–which concealed a mini camera–into her purse. Her handlers at the Depot would be pleased to know the identity of the other crew horning in on their caseload. Outriders…it sounded like a brand of cheap rubbers. She tapped her ear inconspicuously.
"Did you get all that, Mr. Jordan?" She spoke low, rummaging in her purse again.
"Clear as a bell, Ms. Delancey. So what do you think? Is this guy worth his salt? Did he see you yet?"
"I wouldn't underestimate him, and no, he hasn't. I think it's time though."
"Ahh, what'll it be for tonight? I dropped my purse? Lost a contact? "
"No, something more substantial…simple…wet."
"Me likey the sound of that."
"Watch yourself, Mr. J!"
"Can't." He munched on potato chips in her ear. "I'm too busy watching you!"
The woman fluffed back her long, dark blonde hair and made another quick mirror check. She pursed her full lips into a pout and added a dab more lipstick from the real tube she carried. Her almond-shaped dark eyes were deftly contoured and lined in brown and bronze colors–sensual, yet innocent and fresh faced as a silent film ingénue. She noticed the waiter approaching their table with his water pitcher and timed her move.
She made a small show of tripping up, then adjusting the strap to her heel. Her body swerved to the right, and she pretended she didn't see the waiter. The set-up was perfect. The pitcher knocked from his hands and water spilled all over, mostly on the young man's fitted, navy blue suit. He immediately jumped up. The waiter was altogether startled and he backed away fearful of an outburst of anger.
"I am so sorry, sir! I didn't see the young lady and it just slipped, please…"
Mac grasped the table napkin out of his shaking hands and quickly wiped his pants. "It's okay, I'm not gonna melt."
"No sir, I will bring you another dessert, and you shall all have that and the drinks on the house."
Dani was about to decline and Mac glared at her. "Thanks very much! I'll take more cheesecake to go, please."
"Coming right now!" The waiter hurried away in fear for his job.
Mac turned his attention to the cause of the commotion. The woman stood by open-mouthed, her eyes widened. A gasp caught in his throat at the sight of her. She was a beauty, a fairly young, shapely woman draped in a shimmering, beige dress. She was on the short side and had a gentle face reminiscent of a gazelle. She put a hand to her cheek and came up to him slowly, then dared to wipe the water spots off his shoulders and down his chest.
"This is all my fault! Sometimes I can be so clumsy it hurts…other people."
Mac grinned slightly. "Like I said, it's only water. I'm not made of sugar and I didn't drown either."
The woman laughed earnestly. "I'm glad you can find the humor in this, the last guy I dated was such a baby about it! I mean, why cry over spilled milk? Accidents happen. I can promise you it won't happen again." She said demurely. The eyelashes, men loved her full black lashes, and her dimples, always a charm. She batted her eyes, smiled, and knew instantly that she baited him.
Mac nodded thoughtfully. "Well, that we'll have to see, won't we?"
"I'd really like to make this up to you. How about dinner on Friday night? You pick the place."
"Does it require evening wear?"
Mac Harper was fast to the draw and never seemed to look a gift horse in the mouth. He reminded her of a poor man's James Bond, without the British accent.
"Not at all, it can be Burger King, whatever floats your boat. Have it your way."
Dani shook her head and lowered her gaze with a sly smile as she rose to leave. Mac could almost read her mind. She was daring him to say 'dinner at Denny's.'
"There's a great bistro in midtown, they have the best char-grilled burgers going, all sorts of crazy concoctions." Mac said enthusiastically. "I can't help it, I'm a real meat and potatoes kind of guy."
The woman smiled at him. "I love a good burger! Beats the stuffy carrot curls along Madison Avenue. Here's my card."
She whipped a small pink card from her purse and made sure he caught a whiff of the sweet perfume both she and the card wore. She scribbled her home number on the reverse. Mac snatched it away, and she could almost see the tremble of delight course through him. His company had made their way to the coat check.
"Looks like they're about to leave you stranded. Um, what's your name, anyway?"
"Mac Harper and yours?"
"Crystal Delancey." She said, hoping he missed the hesitation and kicking herself for using her real first name. She never let her guard down on cases, but there was a first time for everything.
"Lovely. So it's a date then. Do you have a ride home?"
"Yes, I'll be leaving soon."
Mac gently took her hand and placed a kiss on it. "I'll call you, Miss. Delancey."
"Look forward to it."
Mac sniffed her card and smiled bashfully. He shuffled toward the exit with his hands in his pockets and whistling 'I'm in the mood for love.' Dani stood beside a cigarette dispenser and crossed her arms. Henry had left a few moments earlier to bring around his car.
"She made us, huh?"
Mac rocked on his heels, keeping the dim look of love at first sight upon his face. "Yup."
"Now what?"
"Now, we share some burgers, a few laughs, and I get the truth from her."
"That was smooth, Mac. You really could have caught the water pitcher."
"Of course, but she counted on the water spilling, that way she could bait me. Why should I upset her plans? She didn't have to go through all the trouble of course, all she had to do was say hello."
"I wonder if she felt your eyes burning into her all night. Don't think I didn't catch you spying, Mac."
"Couldn't' help it, it's all part of the game. I think she's intelligent…and fast…um, I mean quick to think on her feet." He added.
"Sure. She's fast all right. And buster, don't get too fast with her. We have no idea who she is or where she's from. She could easily be working for the weapons thieves." Dani reasoned.
Mac shrugged and led her outside toward Henry's car. "I'm cool…and don't look too long, but I see a surveillance van parked up the block."
Dani had to peek, and noticed the wide, black van idle alongside a mailbox. "I wonder if she recorded us and how?"
"Easy. A woman can only apply lipstick so many times a night and use the compact mirror."
"Come to think of it, I'm not sure how she communicated with her partner, but I know I never rummaged through my purse so many times." Dani reflected.
Mac opened the passenger door for her and laughed. "You? You got yourself together, neat as pin. Wallet in the small zipper, make-up in a separate carry-all and not a receipt or scrap of paper to be found."
"This is why Henry picked you, Mac. Keen powers of observation, besides your agility in the field."
"I believe it was you who picked me, Dani. No doubt for my insanely good looks, but the agility has its benefits." He grinned.
"Get in the car, Mac."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Mac?"
"Sí, Señora?"
"Don't call me ma'am."
