Checkpoint Charlie, West Berlin, Germany; 1962
The powder blue MGA Mark II was unquestionably the perfect car for a sunny day in West Berlin. Headscarf in place and with an engine revving excitedly, she was thoroughly enjoying being free of the undercover operation that had consumed her every thought for the past two months and basking in the flirty grins of the American soldiers guarding the Checkpoint.
Papers back in had she was waved through with a wink and the tiny sports car rumbled through the barrier with ease.
That was the easy part. It was the small brown shed coming up on her left that would be the source of any problems she was to encounter. The small stretch of road separating the checkpoints between East and West was the safest part of the city and, ignoring the watchtowers and barbed wire on both sides, the nicest too.
There were soldiers watching her drive from both sides and while the GI's from the immaculately painted checkpoint were watching for safety reasons, the stone faced men she was approaching were watching for much less friendly reasons.
She pulled up to the checkpoint with a smile and opened her mouth to greet them with her best hello, only to be cut off with a sharp order.
"Out of the car." The clipped accent and sharp stare had her closing her mouth and following the order without protest.
The soft click of her heels on the concrete as she extended her legs out was the best form of identification she could have brought; the image of a woman who clearly no qualms about showing off her curves in a figure hugging navy dress, would be the best way to get her cover as a modern American woman verified as she crossed over to East Berlin.
Following the soldier to the small hut she smiled as they scrutinised her papers and tried to ignore the men opening her trunk and sifting through its meagre contents. Obviously, she knew this would happen; smuggling things in and out of the opposing sides of Berlin would get her imprisoned faster than she could say the word 'spy' and so all she was carrying was an overnight bag – which they were now poking through.
"All good?" She asked as the trunk slammed shut and her papers were handed back to her.
"You may proceed." She flashed the soldiers another smile before collecting her identification papers and tottering back to the car.
Slipping her sunglasses back on she waited for the barrier to lift just enough for the low car before she stamped her foot down and sped off towards her target.
East Berlin, Germany; 1962
She'd driven around aimlessly for a good while before pulling up in front of the hotel she'd be staying at.
Dropping her bag in her room she retrieved the palm-sized box labelled 'personal things' (even soldiers were too afraid to look in that) and flicked open the lid to reveal a customised cassette player with tape.
Placing it on the bed-side-table she gingerly lifted the Russian made listening device/tracker from its place just inside the bag's lining and placed it next to the tin.
Giving herself a once-over in the mirror of the tiny room; she smiled, pressed play and left the room with her Russian counterparts happily listening to a pre-recorded night-time routine.
Slipping through the fire exit at the end of the hallway, she tiptoed down the rusting fire escape and towards the only car behind the hotel.
The powder blue car had been expertly covered in the stick-on panels that she'd hidden in the trunk's secret compartment and she thanked East Berlin's generous amount of dark, seedy alleyways that had allowed her to cover up the car's identity a handful of hours after passing through the checkpoint.
She retrieved the hand-drawn map from her glove-compartment and with a quick glance at its directions, she was back speeding through the now dark streets.
PROFI-MECHANIKER GARAGE
The sign was barely legible as it hung above the run-down mechanics she pulled up outside of and she hesitated before stepping from the car and into the shop.
Only one car filled the space and judging by the lack of anybody else in the building; the pair of legs sticking out from under the rusting vehicle belonged to the person she was looking for.
"Mein auto macht seltsame geräusche." She said, coming to rest beside the car and eyeing its open bonnet with little interest. "Sie sagten, du könntest es beheben."
A deep sigh resonated from under the car and Eva knew that the image of her heeled feet coupled with her apparent lack of knowledge on this subject would flush them out.
"Du sprichst gut deutsch, für einen Amerikaner." Eva laughed as the person wheeled themselves out and into the dim light of the store.
"And an even better American accent for a Brit." She replied, letting her façade drop and holding out a hand for the woman.
She ignored it and got to her feet herself; wiping her hands on an oily rag as she went.
"Show me the car." Eva raised an eyebrow at the woman before turning and pointing the MGA. The female mechanic let out a whistle as she saw it and looked to Eva for permission to approach. With a nod, the spy watched as she practically ran to the motor and began inspecting every inch of it.
"You don't get many like this on this side?" She asked, knowing the answer already as the mechanic squatted to peer underneath.
"We don't get any." She replied. "So what's the problem?"
"Well…" She sighed, moving to stand next to her as they started at the car. "…There's a rattling when I make corners, the steering feels strange and MI5 has no valuable operatives in East Berlin."
"I'm sorry?" Eva turned to her as the mechanic took a step back.
"I said the steering feels strange."
"Not that." The mechanic, whispered furiously as her eyes darted around. "The other thing."
"Oh." Eva laughed and straightened the navy jacket that matched her dress. "The bit about MI5?" The mechanic nodded. "You had to know this was coming."
"Know what was coming?"
"Gabriella Teller; my name is Agent Eva Green with MI5 and I'm here to recruit you into Her Majesty's Service."