The man sat in the restaurant slowly…slowly stirring his tea watching her. The rain bouncing off the awning and onto the sidewalk below. Couples raced by fighting the spray, the early spring chill and each other to find cars parked too far away. The real object of attention though worked three tables away. She wore a tight white top that showed the goodies. Modestly. She complimented this with a tight pencil skirt and kitten heels. Between customers, he watched as the Red Head went outside and rounded the corner for a quick smoke. He watched her breathe in the smoke and exhale it like her spirit depended on it. The cigarette trembling in her hand.
He watched her laugh and flirt with the bartender to get her drinks faster and her tips fatter. At the end of the night, she finally bothered to look his way. The smile receded into a smirk. She moved through the now empty restaurant toward him, hips swaying, relaxed. Sitting down across from him she started to count her tips.
“You gotta lot of nerve Mikey coming around after last night.” Mikey swam into her green eyes. They declared victory over his lust. He continued to stir his now room temperature tea and stare at her.
Everything about her was a lie. The bra hid the chicklets that boosted her size. Her hair was red but more of the Irish red than the magenta she rocked this evening which also belied a Brooklyn accent hiding a Northern Irish one. Even about last night. At least her eyes were green though. Not everything about her lied.
He sighed. “I guess I’ll just go back to the Abby then.” Standing up he began his journey home. The winding country road bespeckled with puddles brightened by moonlight made for a pretty walk. He slowly heard the light pitter-patter of feet slapping road. Lolsy O’brien quickly caught him and matched his walking pace. “Fucking cold tonight eh padre?” She stayed in character because he had taught her to do so. Because tradecraft demanded focus and she had a lot of it.
As they entered the narrow entry that leads to the path to their small apartments she scanned ahead to ensure they didn’t have a tail. He casually checked back to do the same. As they approached the door instead of a key a simple touch of the electronic panel brought them to a simple common room. Sitting down, “Father” Michael placed a recorder on the table between them.
“Did you make contact with the TOA (Target of Opportunity)?” She lit a cigarette breathed in the smoke, let it linger and breathed out her answer. “Yes, he came in at 22:00 hours.” Michael sauntered over to the carafe in the corner of the room and poured a generous glass of rye. “How was the target neutralized?” He asked this as matter of factly as one asks for the weather. “I followed him into the restroom, got him shall we say very excited and at the moment of pleasure injected his member. He died within a few seconds. Tommy and William cleaned up the mess.” She took another drag. “Another day at the office.”
Michael removed the collar for hopefully the last time this month. The new friar would be here soon to replace him. Running operations for the Vatican gave him a natural cover but the price as he looked at Lolsy’s legs could be quite high at times. “Ex-fil as soon as I finish this drink love.” Sister Lolsy Obrien stood and finished her smoke. “I’ll be ready in five. Maybe back in time for morning prayers with His Eminence?”
Michael stared out the window. He wasn’t interested in prayers. He looked back and with a Fatherly smile said “Maybe Sister, just maybe.”