1991, November 5th, NYC
Margot sipped her coffee and read the newspaper with all the comfort of a businesswoman on her break, but her eyes weren't absorbing a single word on the page. She was trying to watch the rest of the cafe without really moving her eyes. She jumped a little as a man sank into the seat across from her, and quickly folded up the paper, eyes fixed to him.
"Try to relax," he said. He had the hint of an accent - she would place it as Eastern European, but she'd never been a linguistic expert. He was dressed unexpectedly - she'd been looking for a man in a suit and tie, not a denim jacket and hair just a few frosted tips away from boy band territory. "You're tense. People are going to notice," he continued, smiling, and she took a deep breath.
"Sorry. I'm not used to this," she said, taking another sip of coffee to gird herself, glancing away from him just to avoid meeting his eyes for a second.
He shrugged. "You get used to it. Now, do you have what you say you have?"
She met his eyes again, and nodded a little. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. She put her coffee down and leaned to the side to pull the folder out of her bag, sliding it across the table to him. "You can't take it with you - they'll miss it. But you can copy the information, or memorize it, or whatever. I just need it back."
He nodded distractedly as she spoke, the folder already open in front of him, his cold eyes already sweeping across the information inside. Margot felt a spike of anxiety, of doubt. Was she doing the right thing? She knew, realistically, what would happen to Howard because of this. Her boss. She liked him - when he wasn't being an ass, anyway - but this project could cause another arms race. Could start another actual war. Howard had to go. The team had to go. She felt another surge of doubt.
The man looked up from the folder, and she could tell he was pleased, though his smile was nearly identical to the ones he had given her previously. "This helps nicely, Ms. Roche. We'll be in touch. Stay in the city until.." he lifted his wrist to look at an extraordinarily expensive watch that didn't go with his outfit at all. "Oh, let's say until the New Year." She frowned, opened her mouth to protest, and he looked at her sharply. "Trust me, Ms. Roche. Trust me."
She grit her teeth slightly, and let out a short breath, but said, "Fine."
He closed the folder, slid it across the table back to her, and stood, slipping his hands into his jacket's pockets. "We appreciate your cooperation, Ms. Roche. Have a splendid day." And then he turned and left, disappearing into the busy coffee shop crowd, and she put the folder back into her bag, finished her coffee, and left five minutes later.
A/N One more glimpse incoming!