Twenty-Nine Cozy Bears

41

CISA — Tehran, Iran

Doug reached down and tied his running shoes while sitting in a chair. "Isn't it kinda off, that we are going to spend nearly a whole day performing the contact ritual just to talk with them for less than thirty minutes, and then leave? What is Hank trying to achieve here?"

Samantha studied him for a long awkward moment. Long enough to wonder if she wouldn't answer at all.

After awkward turned into rude — she said, "No."

No? But before he could respond she said, "I never pictured you like this."

"Like what?"

"Whining."

"Whining?"

"Yes, you are whiny."

He didn't know what to say. How was he being whiny?

"It's like you feel you're being punished by being sent here," she added.

Weren't they? "Oh," he said. "Anything else?"

She finished putting on her bra, and picked up her blouse. The bra was thick and dangerously close to making her breasts into a uni-boob. "I don't want to argue about it."

"Neither do I. But if I'm whiny, I apologize," he said.

"No, I apologize," she countered with a kinder voice. "You don't like to travel, do you?"

Doug stood up and began walking toward the kitchen area for some coffee, "It's not that."

"Well, what is it?" she asked.

He poured a cup, motioned to her — asking if she wanted one. She shook her head, so he finished pouring and set the pot back into the coffee maker. While he did this he tried to think of an answer that didn't sound whiny.

"Hey," Samantha said, after the long silence, "if it's personal then don't worry about it. At least you realize something has you by the short hairs and is twisting you around. I can deal with it, as long as you're aware."

He added two spoons of sugar to his brew and stirred, "Now, what does that mean?"

She walked over and put her arms around him from behind, "It means that you're not in denial. Once people are aware of their moods they tend to work them out on their own. You don't need my help with this. I'm just making sure you're know you aren't acting like your normal self."

"I'm not?"

"No."

She backed away slowly, sliding her hands across him, and then stepped back into the common room.

"How would I be acting if whatever was going on, wasn't going on?"

"You mean if you weren't in a mood?"

"Sure, I guess, what would I be doing on a normal day?"

"On a normal day you would be interested in your job, and you would have started your computer by now. And we would be talking about events."

Well, she's not wrong. Taking a look at himself from an outside point of view, he had to admit that he walked around listless, and just about everything out of his mouth could be construed as a complaint.

They had to get moving. The first mark had to be made between 9am and 9:15am. So he let it drop. They didn't have to hurry but they didn't have enough time to unpack everything going on with him.

The Mossad when they are in Iran and some other countries make no contact through electronic means with home offices, or supervisors outside of the country. They have devised low tech means of contact, which they claim have been proven air tight, and anti-hacker. The apartment was part of the message. Once it is rented, they will check three places for particular marks. If they don't see them the next day, then they assume that the renters are civilians with nothing to do with them. 

Out on the narrow streets Samantha wore her hijab, a high button blouse and a loose full length skirt. Her dangerous curves were subdued completely. The Fashion police would be appeased. Doug wore a gray long-sleeve t-shirt, blue-jeans, and brown work boots. He had three-days growth on his cheeks and chin.

The street was busy with both vehicles, and pedestrians. Not crowded, everyone had personal space, and polite smiles. He noticed several young women who were not wearing hijab. He still found Samantha attractive wearing hers. It was just a good look on her.

The mark to make was with chalk, on a wall, in an alley way. They made it in time, made the appropriate mark and continued on to the next marking spot. There were three in all. Once the marks were made, they sit tight in their little apartment. Someone would visit. If someone did not visit within a week, then go home because they are not coming.

In the age of cyber warfare, Doug thought to himself, we still use chalk for our tradecraft.

Maybe that was the way of things, the balance that is sure to come and push in another direction. All based on 'the say'. People having their say. Most of the population isn't working on vital industry, they are supporting 'the say'.

'The say' is all important, which is why it is targeted so hotly. Dissemination of brazen propaganda, from memes to massive campaigns all out to quash the say of the others.

For the last year, he's had the terrible fear that most of the people he worked with could not fathom the lines that have been crossed or the damage unfettered and hurtling toward US boarders. And for that time he's been painfully certain that it is mostly their own fault.