Organisation Man: Chapter 22

In which things rather predictably do not go as planned.

Lexa Hackett looked around the square once more. Nothing seemed unusual. People lazed in the sun. Some clowns were playing pat-a-cake. A drunk was dispensing wisdom to three young men sitting on a bench who were enduring his attentions with a stoic politeness. Lexa's suspicious gaze tried to overlay everything she saw with an air of tense expectation, as though everyone in the square was waiting for Claire to show up, but she knew this was just projection.

Claire arrived a good twenty minutes ahead of the time agreed with the woman from the Friendly. Lexa had to hand it to her – for all their earlier disagreements, Maguire was a pro. She was almost dead centre in the square before Lexa clocked her. Even then she would not have recognised her if she had not known her so intimately, so unlike her usual appearance had she made herself look. It was only when she reached the square's centre and took off the hat and sunglasses that she became definitively herself.

And it was then that Lexa heard the voices. "There she is". "OK, let's get the bitch. Move". Voices coming almost from right beside Lexa. She had fallen victim to the oldest trick in the book – so carefully was she scanning the square and its environs for trouble, she had ignored the other people sitting outside at her café. And now she saw a group of four tough-looking men with nasty expressions rise from their seats as one and start away towards where Claire was standing. Four men with moustaches. This was not good.

Fortunately they too had fallen for the oldest trick in the book, failing to check the café's other patrons for someone like herself who was watching out for Claire in the square. They were clearly unaware of her presence. But what was she to do? These guys looked like they could move fast. Lexa would not have time to warn Claire, so instead she picked up her coffee cup, still half full of un-drunk cappuccino, and threw it with all the force she could muster at one of the four men. Crack! It hit his head with considerable force, enough to stun him momentarily and cover him with hot coffee, though the blow had not obviously done him serious damage. Still, his comrades hesitated, looking to see how hurt he was, looking to see where the blow had come from.

"Rebecca!" Lexa shouted. "Run!"

That was all she could do to warn Claire, but it was enough. She had heard the cry and was making her exit. Lexa herself knew that she was now in danger of becoming the target – she would have to make a quick escape. She tipped over her table and its accompanying chairs to block the path towards her of the four men and started running in the opposite direction, mouthing an apology to an indignant waiter who saw just that she was leaving without paying.

Lexa ran. Two of the men came after her. That meant that the other two were going after Claire. Well, Claire could look after herself, right now Lexa had to think of herself. The two men coming after her were fast, but so was she. And she was lighter than they were and more able to turn quickly. She had also spent some of the time before Claire's meeting memorising the street plan of the Soho back streets through which she was now running. She kept making abrupt right angle turns, know that her pursuers would lose time following her. And she made sure not to let herself be caught by any dead ends. She felt herself beginning to pull away from the men. Good. And she counted her lucky stars that they were not shooting at her.

For Lexa the chase began to assume a Zen-like quality. She was living in the moment and yet was detached from it. Her heart was pounding and her body pushing itself to its limits, but her corporeal self was working automatically. Her mind was calm and able to reflect on what was happening. She was even considering what she would do if certain eventualities occurred. Suppose she ran into the police or a National Security patrol? They would stop her, sure – there is nothing more suspicious than someone running. She would maybe be able to play the Woman In Peril card, turning the cops on her pursuers. But it would be messy. Any involvement with the authorities was dangerous, as they might start asking questions about who she was and just why these two men were chasing her. She hoped the eventuality would not arise.

After a series of zig zags through the back streets she began to think that maybe, just maybe, she had lost her pursuers. Lexa slowed her pace to a brisk walk, not something that would attract the suspicion of any cops who crossed her path. Permitting herself glances behind her she realised that, yes, she had shaken off her followers. She walked on, careful to check that she was not being followed. This was a skill learned in the Organisation and honed with careful practice. Lexa made frequent stops to look in the windows of the many shops that dotted the streets, allowing her ample opportunity to look behind her without drawing attention to herself. The moustachioed men were nowhere to be seen. She had escaped.

Claire and Lexa had arranged a rendezvous point in the event of something going wrong in the square. That rendezvous point was, naturally, a pub, albeit one some distance away – the Calthorpe Arms, near Euston Station. The safest way to get there was on foot, so Lexa walked the not inconsiderable distance there. It goes without saying that she checked along the way that she was not being followed and deliberately took a somewhat roundabout route. When she arrived, there was no sign of Claire, so she ordered a pint of ale and took a seat, pretending to read her book while she worried about what had happened to her colleague.

This was always the worst part of her work. When you were separated from a colleague like this there was nothing you could do to help them and no way of finding out where they were. She could have telephoned, of course, but it was strictly against the rules in this kind of chase situation. The last thing you wanted when you were running through a crowd was having to deal with a phone ringing in your ear. No, she would have to wait and accept what happened. If Claire did not arrive then she would have to assume that she had been captured; if captured then the enemy could be using all due methods to extract information, so Lexa could take it that their hotel was too dangerous to return to. She would have to abandon it and either continue her mission alone or improvise a return to Ireland. But if Claire had been captured, then this pub might increasingly be a place of peril for her, as it the enemy would want anything it would be to apprehend her accomplice. That was always the problem with this kind of thing – the tension between waiting a reasonable length of time and waiting so long that you were making it easy for the enemy to find you. So while she waited and pretended to read, Lexa was having to scan new arrivals in the pub to see if they were likely agents of the opposition. Fortunately they just seemed to be a succession of people joining friends for a drink or people coming in for a quiet pint on their own.

It was heading towards that witching hour that would make it officially time for Lexa to make herself scarce when Claire arrived. She looked somewhat flustered. "Alison!" she said, seeing Lexa. "Sorry I'm late. I ran into some friends in Covent Garden and I lost track of time". So she had led her pursuers into Covent Garden but been unable to shake them off. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Not too long", said Lexa. "I got here early. Made a connection I normally miss". So now Claire knew she had been able to slip away from her pursuers with relative ease.

Claire ordered herself a beer, which she knocked back quickly. Then she and Lexa had another. They were both pretty rattled, but still coasting on adrenaline. Lexa knew it would not be wise for them to stay in the pub and get hammered, not now, so half way through Claire's second she suggested that they head off to Drummond Street for a curry. On the way they were able to have a quick conversation.

"I couldn't get rid of them… they were like bloodhounds", said Claire. "Every time I thought I had got away I turned around and there they were again. But I had a stroke of luck".

"Yes?"

"They caught up with me when I got caught by a busy road, but when they tried to grab me, some labourers nearby turned on them. I think they thought they were muggers or something, and they started to really lay into them. I slipped away and left them to get the shite kicked out of them".

"Nice. Well anyway, I suppose you admit now that arranging to meet the woman was a mistake?"

"Not at all", said Claire, smiling. "We've learned a lot. We know now that they know we're onto them. So we have to move fast. Tonight's the night. We go into Grieg Industries and extract Ryan".

24/11/2012 – 25/11/2012
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