Murray chalked the Newspaper dispenser and went and sat opposite it at the small cafe called the Bee Lion. He’d met Grossman here before – Grossman was ex-CIA deep cover, totally off the grid, slightly paranoid, and one of Murray’s most reliable contacts. Murray ordered the English Breakfast with a bottle of Orangina. Time to sit and wait.
Often his network would communicate with him through other modes of communication that sought to remain quiet to the authorities. Hidden Intelligence Community communications buried in supposed drug communications – layer upon layer of meaning floating at different perceptual levels of awareness in the city. Most Intelligence guys were really skillful data analysts.
Grossman was not a creature of habit, and this was by design. Grossman was actually a little funny: he ran his life by means of Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies. Keep it random – keep it unpredictable. The guy didn’t shop at the same place too often, changed his diet; used burner phones and disposable credit cards whenever he could. Grossman left no trails – nothing led back to him. To get data on something like a drop box you had to be very trusted.
Murray spotted him, picked up his pointer laser, and traced a figure 8 on the man’s hand. Grossman froze, lifted his hand up and, in a motion that could be mistaken for someone scratching their ear, he beckoned for Murray to follow.
This run down old shooting gallery still had the charming graffiti, and some of the paraphernalia scattered around.
‘What? No one wants to come in here, do they? It is not inviting.’
‘I suppose not.’
‘OK. I don’t have time to waste – too much time in the same spot, you know. What do you need, Murray?’
‘I need out of the country.’
‘Oh, I see, and you can’t use your normal routes because you’re burned.’
‘You got it.’
‘A choice, or someone pushed?’
‘A choice. Interesting. Yes. Be here tomorrow – $200,000, because you’re an interesting guy, and you’ve always done right by me.’
Murray appreciated the swift businesslike manner with which Grossman operated. It was simple. Everything he needed the next day was all packaged up and there – as it should be. Time to exit, stage left.
telescoping sight 