When Miss Walsh enters the ladies', Eiren Anderson, the small, energetic young woman she came to meet, turns to look at the newcomer.
They are alone and Miss Walsh relaxes her posture.
Seeing this, Miss Anderson immediately takes a defensive stance and, asks, aggressively, "Who are you? What do you want?" She stares at the… person facing her. The disguise is rather good, but it is a man, she can't be mistaken on this.
"The dice are on the table*,Miss Anderson," he answers. "I'm your contact."
Upon hearing this coded phrase, the tension disappears and Eiren slowly drops her guard. "Gentlemen, place your bets*," She grumbles in reply, still unhappy with the fright she has just had.
"What happened to Lisa?" she asks, worried about the absence of her usual liaison.
"She's in the hospital. Appendicitis," "Miss Walsh" says laconically, handing her a piece of paper that he takes out of his purse. "Here are the details, address, room number, you can use those in addition to the usual channels, whether you need an extraction or you just want to contact her."
Miss Anderson nods and takes the paper, which she hides in an inner pocket of her jacket.
Then she takes out a bundle of papers from under the lining of her skirt and holds them out to her interlocutor.
"Here is the list."
Captain Blake, since it is he, reaches for the papers and takes a quick look at them. "Do you think we will have trouble with some of them?"
"Lionel." The answer bursts forth, immediate, and the man raises his head, intrigued.
Eiren shrugs. "The chief may be Anton, but Lionel is dangerous. He's the one who gave us the contacts for weapons and explosives. He has good advice and knows how to make people obey. I am sure this is not his first rodeo. If there is someone to beware of, it's him."
Indeed, amongst the very first names of the list is a Lionel Kroocl, a name with a Dutch ring to it. The captain takes mental notes for the time he makes his report. "I'll have him under watch."
"Good." Miss Anderson seems suddenly relieved, and the captain takes the opportunity to ask her: "Is everything all right for you? Will you hold on until Saturday morning?"
The undercover agent straightens. "I will." She is a little tense, but resolute. "Anton and I had a fight just now, he did not want to let me out, that's why I'm late, but hey," she clenches her fists, "that's not going to stop me."
The man's face turns serious. "If you have any doubt for your safety, do not hesitate and get away ! We have the essentials," he notes, waving the sheets, "and nothing, not even the mission merits putting your life or integrity in danger."
Eiren Anderson feels the full intensity of the man's charisma wash over her and, in an instant, she is certain that he is one of Lisa's superiors. Hell, an officer who cares about his agents this much and does not hesitate to go in the field if necessary must have tremendous success as a recruiter. Who would not be willing to do impossible things for a leader like that?
She resists the urge to salute. "Noted, but it's okay, don't worry."
Blake then hides the sheets in his bodice, and as Miss Anderson prepares to leave, he stops her for a moment. "There was a man watching you at the bar."
She nods. "Yes, Jack, I've seen him. Don't worry, he does not scare me." She pauses for a moment. "Give me two minutes before you follow me."
The captain nods. "Understood. Good luck."
"Thank you." Arming herself with courage, the young woman pushes the door and goes back inside the bar
Once alone, the captain puts his two minutes to good use, then puts himself back in character, checks his appearance in the mirror one last time and, as Miss Walsh, returns to the bar.
Professor Mortimer stands up as he sees her and greets her with a bright smile. My God, she thinks. What would she not give for him to look at her like that without this disguise.
He assists her with her coat, then they walk by the drinkers and out. At the corner of the bar, Miss Anderson is arguing with 'Jack', but in view of her self-confidence and the attitude of clients around her, she does not need help, and Blake, or rather Lisa Walsh, lets herself be guided to the exit.
* Random coded message from the history of personal messages of Radio Londres.