—final—
EspionageThe train was filled to the gills when Kim Jisoo stepped aboard, leaving behind an Istanbul sky, red and purple as the sun set into the Turkish horizon. It was warm, warmer than it should have been for an October evening, but Jisoo decided against removing her white linen jacket, and she kept a tight grip on her valise. From a distance she heard the final boarding call, "En voiture, s'ils vous plait!" and searched for her compartment with a sigh.
This was her first assignment, and she was so nervous she could feel her fingers trembling as she slid open the compartment door she'd been shown to by the conductuer. Her contact would be meeting her, her very first contact on her very first assignment. A simple intel drop: picking up documents detailing Third Reich activity on the western front and heading off the train before it reached Paris. But nothing was ever so simple; Jisoo had had that engrained in her during training, and she thought that if anything ever went as right for her as it had for Park Chaeyoung, her partner at the OSS, she'd soon be found floating face down in the Seine too.
Her jaw clenched at the thought and she pulled off her jacket in a sudden fit of discomfort. Chaeyoung had been smart, a talented agent, but she'd also been distracted: by her G.I. husband, by the kids that were waiting back home in the states. Her mind had always drifted off her work, until she'd been so distracted she hadn't noticed her cover was blown. That mistake had cost her her life.
Now Jisoo was taking her place, filling the gap. She was just another girl to most agents at the OSS, even to those who knew how valuable an asset a girl-agent could be. A couple of them had warned her, told her to take care from ending up like Chaeyoung; but unlike Chaeyoung, Jisoo had no distractions, nothing to keep her mind off the task at hand. She'd left her family when the war started, never looking back when she'd been recruited out of Pennsylvania State to serve in the Office of Strategic Services. She'd been enrolled in the history department, hoping to pursue a job in academia, when one of her professors had introduced her to a very serious looking young man who'd told her about the OSS, about why he thought she might make a good field agent. Never in her wildest fantasies had she imagined being a spy, but less than a year later she found herself in Turkey, boarding a train bound for Paris, waiting to be handed documents she could be killed for.
Jisoo was lost in her reverie, picking indelicately at her fingernails, when she heard the compartment door slide open. A dark-haired woman, curls pulled into a loose chignon at her head, entered breathlessly. She wore a black dress and heels, and bright red lipstick that shone like a beacon from her full lips; they were parted and she looked flushed, like she'd been running. As she dropped down on the seat opposite Jisoo, the train began to move. Jisoo watched curiously as the woman opened her clutch and extracted a cigarette case. The initials J.R.J. were engraved into the glittering silver. "You mind?" a husky voice asked.
Realizing she'd been staring, Jisoo blinked and smiled tentatively. "Of course not," she replied pleasantly. "Go right ahead."
A Turkish cigarette dangled from curving lips, and Jisoo watched from the corner of her eye as the woman produced a lighter, a bright flame burning the tip of brown paper as she inhaled deeply. A plume of smoke created a momentary fog around the woman before it dissipated and Jisoo caught herself staring into brown, kohl-rimmed, eyes.
"Unseasonably warm, isn't it?"
Jisoo frowned. "Pardon?"
"The weather. Feels like the middle of July instead of October."
"Oh, yes."
"Headed for Paris?"
"Yes."
The woman nodded and took a deep drag from her cigarette. "Me too." She exhaled the smoke off to her right before leaning forward, legs crossing. She said, in a low murmur, "There's a lovely patisserie along the Champs-Elysées."
Jisoo frowned and blinked again. This was... ? She couldn't be. But the woman sat back, obviously waiting for a response.
Stammering, Jisoo replied, "Perhaps we'll take coffee and a croissant."
An unexpected smile formed on the woman's face—Jisoo thought it lit her up from the inside--and she transferred her cigarette to her left hand as she held out her right. "Jennie Kim," she said, laughter in her voice.
"Kim Jisoo," Jisoo answered, feeling warm fingers envelop hers in a firm handshake. "I thought..."
"No names? That's a fiction of the OSS, sweetheart. No one does business that way."
"Oh."
"You'll learn fast enough."
"Sure."
"You knew Chaeyoung?"
Jisoo nodded.
"Shame. She was a nice girl."
"Yes."
"You have a boy's name."
"Pardon?"
"Jisoo. I've never heard of a dame with that name before."
"My parents have a sense of humor."
"Apparently. It suits you though."
"Why? I look like a boy?"
"Jesus, no. But you don't look like a Betty or a Diane or a Plain Jane. Jisoo: it's different, isn't it?"
"I suppose."
Jennie leaned back into her seat and stretched an arm along the back. "But I guess we aren't here to chit-chat."
"We have time."
"That we do. A few hours at least."
"Just a few?"
"I'm leaving in Vienna."
"Oh. I thought you said--"
Jennie shook her head and raised an eyebrow. "I'll hand you the envelope then, in case you're wondering. Less likely to raise suspicion."
"All right." Jisoo nodded and looked out the train window, watching as the sun finally disappeared behind far-off mountains.
"First time out of the States?"
"Yes," Jisoo replied, turning back to Jennie. "Have you been out here long?"
"A year. Cultivating relationships."
Jisoo nodded and pursed her lips; she didn't have to ask what that meant. Cultivating relationships was polite speak for getting close to the enemy, and there were only a few ways girl-agents did that. Which was why she was thoroughly surprised when she heard the words that came out of Jennie's mouth next: "I don't them, you know. I just pretend like I'm their girl. Works out well."
"That's...none of my business."
"Sure it is. My business is your business, doll."
Jisoo's gaze drifted back onto Jenn
Comments