Author's Note: Same message about feedback. I love it.
I was well and truly engrossed in the events of Harry Potter by the time we had leveled off. My music was playing, the headphones hadn't started to hurt my ears yet and the drinks cart had just come around. I was all set to go. Unfortunately, Vaughn had other plans. He reached over and tapped my shoulder. I turned around to look at him, amazed. I thought we were supposed to talk in public. I looked around the plane. Everyone was either asleep or listening on headphones. That explained the evening flight- we could talk in relative safety. I turned back to face Vaughn. He smiled in amusement when he saw what I was reading, then started to say something, then realised I couldn't hear a word he said. Honestly, someone could have held a pipe band practice right next to my ear and I wouldn't have noticed. Or maybe I would, I hate bagpipes. Anyway, I couldn't hear Vaughn. He gestured for me to take out my headphones. I complied.
"Do you want to hear about the mission now or later?" he asked, his voice still slightly hoarse, but nowhere near as bad as it had been before. I stared at him. He'd interrupted my reading, and my music, only to ask if I wanted to be interrupted now or later. Slightly rude.
"Now, I guess," I sad snippily. He looked at me strangely, then began to brief me.
"We're going to Milan," he started. No, I thought sarcastically. Really?
"When we get there we'll be meeting up with two other agents. Agent Weiss I think you've already met, and another agent based in Italy, Agent Vermicelli. We don't know yet where the transaction of the papers will take place, and SD-6 doesn't know either, so that's what Agent Vermicelli is for- he'll be getting the information and equipment for us. Weiss is in charge of security- making sure no one sees you with us, and that the extraction goes without a hitch. Follow me so far?"
"So…what do you and I do?" I asked, confused. Vaughn grinned at me.
"Devi fare ammenda, Sydney," he said. I hate it when he speaks Italian, because his sounds so much better than mine. I mentally translated what he'd said. I have to make amends? Huh?
"What for?" I asked, bewildered.
"You, and I, have to retrieve the papers before SD-6 finds them. We'll be infiltrating the transaction location as soon as we have it." I nodded. This mission seemed fairly straightforward- no nasty little hitches. Only problem was pulling it off without SD-6 finding out. I asked him if there was anything else, and he shook his head, so I stuffed my headphones back into my ears and reopened my book. It was just getting interesting.
*
The rest of the flight was pretty boring. Harry's adventures kept me amused for awhile, then sleep kept me amused for the rest of the flight. Vaughn had a book out too, but I don't think he read a single word. He dozed off as soon as we finished our conversation. I suppose that's understandable, considering it was getting pretty late. When the plane landed, he stood up and helped me get my bag down from the overhead compartment, whispering to me that he'd left the hotel details in the bag, but not to open it until I was through customs. I thanked him loudly for helping me with my bag and disembarked the plane.
It only took half an hour to get through customs and baggage reclamation., during which time I regretted not paying more attention to learning Italian. I'd focused more attention on Russian and French, and neglected my Italian tutoring. Big mistake. Next time I'm going to pay attention in everything. I finally got through customs and
reclaiming my baggage (fighting off a little old lady who was absolutely convinced it was her bag. I tried to tell her that if she had come from Heathrow Airport her luggage wouldn't be on the same carousel as my luggage, but she just would not listen.) and walked out of the airport.
I sat down in the lounge and dug through my bag for the instructions. There it was, a little wadded up piece of paper. I unfolded it carefully and read:
"L'Albergho del Sole, a taxi driver will know where it is. Pretend to trip over in the lobby, someone will help you and give you further instructions. Go up to the counter and pretend the piece of paper is to tell you how to ask for a room in Italian while you read it for the location."
Well, my work was cut out for me. First step: hail a taxi. I walked out of the airport easily (having discovered the little handle and wheels on my suitcase made maneuvering it a lot easier) and proceeded to hail a taxi New York style. Not a great success. After awhile of that I finally gave up and asked someone.
"Mi scusi," I asked in my atrocious accent. The lady turned and smiled at me.
"Sì?" Even I understood that much Italian.
"Mi dispiace, non posso parlare italiano bene. Parli inglese?" I asked hopefully.
"Un po'. Non posso aiutare. Forse potresti domandare qualcuno alla dogana?" she suggested. So she only spoke a little English and couldn't help me, but suggested I ask someone at customs. It took me awhile but I got it.
"Molte grazie," I thanked her. She smiled at me and walked away. I had two choices: I could go back to customs or I could rent a car. I was going with rent a car. I could return it later. Or get someone else to return it later. Sounded like a plan.
*
It took me awhile but I made it to the Albergho del Sole. I paid the cabbie and stepped inside the foyer of the hotel. It was much nicer than I'd expected. Seems like we were going all out expenses wise on this trip. I pretended to struggle with my stuff and faked a fall in the middle of the lobby. A man in a dark jacket came over to help me up, stuffing a note in my pocket. I thanked him too (I was doing a lot of that today) and walked up to the counter and smiled graciously at the man behind the counter. He smiled back.
"Oooh, fa freddo oggi," I said as I dug through my pockets for the paper. I smiled at him again.
"Non posso parlare italiano bene," the truth "e ho bisogno di questo folio" waving the paper "così posso fare cose senza un 'translator'" I started, the trailed off. The man was nodding understandingly at me. Seems like I managed to get my point across- namely that I don't speak Italian well and needed the paper so I could do things without a translator. I unfolded the paper and cleared my throat, reading quickly.
"Ask for a room on the third floor. The only empty room is 7B. It's a double suite, and we're meeting in 7C. Your key is in the pot plant on the sixth floor near the elevators. Make sure no one sees you. We'll be meeting there on hour after you arrive. Be on time."
I looked up at the concierge. He was waiting for me, so I started talking.
"Posso avere una camera sul piano sei?" I asked, hoping that I'd said it right.
"Aspetti un momento…" he said as he began tapping away on his keyboard. I waited patiently.
"Abbiamo una camera- camera 7B. Le vuole?" he asked. I nodded and he grinned.
"Va bene. Ecco le chiave, e il facchino ti aiuterà con la sua valigia. Buongiorno," he said, beckoning for the porter. I mentally translated- the porter would help me with my bag. Cool- as the porter picked up my bag. We headed for the elevator.
It took ages (and $20) to get the porter to leave. I threw my suitcase haphazardly on the bed and ducked outside. There was the plant. I walked over to it calmly, then bent down as if I wanted to look at it more closely. I ran my hand along the base of the pot, found the key and stood up. A man waiting for the elevator was staring at me, so I grinned at him.
"I love these plants," I explained. I know, lame excuse but it's the best I could come up with. He smiled back warily and I headed for my room. There was nothing left to do but watch the clock.
*
1 hour on the dot I walked over to the connecting door. I unlocked it and walked inside. Then I stopped in my place and stared. You know how in the movies whenever there's a CIA operation going down, there's always a room full of equipment in a nearby hotel? Well, having gone on several missions for the CIA and never seeing the room I was beginning to think it was a myth. This changed my mind. The room was full of little black gadgets. There were a few computers, a large screen television, and several little radio monitoring equipment, a few radio headsets and four handguns.
Cool, I thought to myself.