Keep and Continue

3.

Among the first rules commanded, what they joked as ‘The Ten,’ was the one stating that should one be ten minutes early to a meeting, said one was actually twenty minutes late. Having made a career of following the rules to the T, he arrived at the ‘usual spot’ with time to spare. 

The waterside park was barren and bleak, what few people there were all bundled in colorful wool coats, some matching, others in obvious defiance of fashion. He considered his attire of utilitarian sensibility, grays and blacks that might have been taken for cammy by professionals, but simply as boring by civilians. He blended into the cold scene like a pigeon in a pine tree. He stood by the stone waterfront and watched the bench, the morning's newspaper at nose level. He knew that reading the paper had been replaced by news-feeds on mobile devices, still there was a degree of comfort and normality in using the inky pages as cover. The windy afternoon advanced the technology that turned pulp digital. 

He waited patiently. The bench, the ‘usual spot’ was less than fifty meters away. It was cast iron with a patina dating from an era when counter intelligence was sport, something one did for the home team, not like today, when it was all about money, power and geo-political leverage. The bench was dual-sided, looking like an organic chemistry bell curve, one continuous flowing design that allowed conversations to be orchestrated while sitting back-to-back on opposite sides. He often considered it to be like a confessional as you never got a clear view of the other party be they sinner or saint. 

As he waited he considered how the meeting might go, what it could entail, and how, either way, it was going to blow up his current workout schedule. That was his anchor. Running, biking, swimming, lifting, stretching, martial arts practice. It kept him busy, fit and prepared. He was in current experimentation with an esoteric concept known as dynamic flow, an advanced technique combining athleticism, movement, focus, explosive power and sustainability into one, relaxed and supple transfer of energy. He was fascinated by its premise and was growing more and more comfortable with its extended range of possibilities. It seemed like a perfect extension of the ‘physical readiness’ commandment. It was also a marvelous stress buster. 

At 1644 a man he didn’t recognize nervously walked to the bench, scanned his back-side and carefully sat. He too was carrying a newspaper. Cautiously, I waited and watched, finally deciding that he must be a messenger, a proxy for TOM. 

I take a deep, insouciant breath, feigning boredom, and move towards the bench. As I sit, the man shuffles his paper, turning to the financial section with an air of apathetic indifference. I sit just opposite, close enough to smell his aftershave. It is unmistakably Old Spice. I whistle the tune as he tucks his paper into his armpit. The man speaks softly but clearly:

“Keep your cover and continue your practice.” 

Without waiting for a response, he leaves.