Since Wattpad doesn't permit multiple dedications, I would like to mention four authors who indirectly provided inspiration for this story.
@henry_scott @Frode92 @RainerSalt @jeff_bond
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The approach was subtle and indirect. Interest in his University record and the impressive skills displayed in advertising media, his chosen field.
Eager to embrace the interest and the accolades, it wasn't long before Richard Carstairs followed those courting him down the sugar path they provided.
The offer was one of romance, adventure and important service to country. That was the promise, the lure-the lie.
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1 - England
It was over a soggy sandwich and a milkshake on a busy boardwalk plied by seniors, nannies and dog walkers, Richard was given his first detailed assignment. Having completed his university course and achieved exceptional marks, a position had been secured for him in the promotional section of a charitable foundation in which the Agency had a deep interest.
He was to insert himself into the owner's good graces through the man's daughter.
Previously his duties had required the very boring and disappointing task of reporting gossip gleaned from idle remarks, opinions and behaviours within the university population.
This at least aligned closer with his own perception of the secret world of intelligence. All the weapons, driving and tradecraft training could now be unpacked and ready to use.
After a short but detailed explanation, Richard suddenly experienced first assignment doubt. His handler, Nathan Fischer, a stubby runt of a man with a black head of oily hair and a pair of impish lips that pouted beneath a blunt nose, continually patted his back encouragingly and bravo-ed his abilities.
"This is a piece of cake for a young man with your ability. Charm, wit; you can't miss."
"But to what end?" Richard mopped a rain of sandwich juice from the plate in front of him.
"Ah, Richard. Not the end, not yet. Just the beginning, my boy. Just the beginning. Winning the hand of the fair maiden, Cora, is the very beginning. When that goal has been established, we then move on to ingratiating ourselves to the father, Dalton Whycliffe, and that, dear Richard will be the start of the meaty part of your play."
"What if I can't?"
"Richard, Richard . . . can't is unacceptable." Nathan lit his third cigarette of the lunch and with a parental smile continued to encourage his protege's abilities.
"Really?" The sarcasm was thick.
"Yes, really. and we would be quite pleased to have this achieved with a minimum of delay."
"How long do I have?"
"As I said, a minimum of delay." Nathan's voice hardened. "You have already had an introduction, my boy, that's a running start." A fleshy hand patted his and Richard made a face. "A generous dose of attention to the delightful Cora and as I said, some continental charm . . . it should be a simple effort to achieve and if anyone has that ability, Richard, well . . . it's one reason we chose you, isn't it."
"This is serving my country?" Richard sucked on his milkshake straw and considered the man across from him. Apparently, it was not his brief to know the end goal, he was simply asked to begin down a road and follow instructions.
"Eminently my boy, in the end, eminently. This is the adventure and romance part." Nathan winked crudely.
"Why am I doing this exactly? Why am I setting out to deceive some innocent young woman? Why can't I just meet this Dalton directly?"
Nathan sighed and wiped his moustache with a crumpled serviette. His gaze strayed across the boardwalk and settled on a pair of young women walking with small dogs on leashes and strollers containing sleeping babies.
"I'm quite certain the educators instilled the concept of access and the numerous methods employed during your training, Richard. Please don't embarrass yourself playing ignorant."
A final slurp on the straw and Richard shoved the empty glass away and blew out a noisy sigh. He met Nathan's eyes and saw the pool of cold slate observing him.
"I'm breaking protocol here, Richard. Frankly, I had hoped for a more insightful assessment by yourself, so I want you to pay close attention and then never bring this up again nor mention it to anyone else."
Richard nodded.
"The Whycliffe Foundation formed a central pool of donations for victims of natural disasters several years ago. They assumed all the administrative duties, the bookkeeping and purportedly, the distribution of the funds as needed for food, medication and housing etcetera."
"Like a United Appeal."
"Precisely."
Richard looked hard, awaiting some kind of punch line and Nathan's face set like stone.
"And?"
"And that's all you need to know, Richard." The voice and words were clipped and Richard sensed he had stepped on forbidden ground. "All you need to concentrate on is getting into the good graces of Wycliffe's daughter."
Richard made a fluttering sound with his lips and shook his head. A young boy raced past them on a bicycle, head thrust forward, arms akimbo and legs pumping furiously. He veered off the boardwalk and with an enviable dexterity, lifted the front wheel of the bike and jumped it up onto a grass hillock, startling an ancient nanny and her ward.
"So when do I report for this - work?"
"Tomorrow at 8:00am sharp. You will meet with a Desmond White, your department manager and then things will unfold from there."
"Unfold. You mean I begin my assault on Cora Wycliffe."
"How you achieve the end result is up to you, Richard," Nathan leered. "Just make it quickly."
The ugly part of a story began emerging in Richard's mind and suddenly he felt a dirty curtain closing about him.
"None of the money really goes to aid does it? The government is deliberately letting a charitable foundation collect money to have it dispersed under false pretences?"
"I'm not telling you anything, Richard. Your task is already outlined. That's all you need to know." Nathan took note of his young agent's perspicacity.
Richard picked up his empty drink container and bopped it on the table, watching Nathan.
"It's going to people you would like to see continue receiving these donations."
The persistence continued and Nathan closed his eyes in a slow blink. He hesitated, considering how far to go.
"Whycliffe has a man, Peter Killdrew, who is responsible for the distribution of the funds. He is not an Agency man and we believe he has become somewhat parsimonious in the delivery of that largesse."
Richard sat back, smiling smugly, a kernel of suspicion resolved. "He's skimming the skim." He had to chuckle.
"In a word, yes, and we want that money back. It has been accumulating for a number of years and is considerable. Black operations require black funding, my son. Many things we undertake can't be submitted to our assiduous budget committees."
"So this elaborate scheme is all about getting it back."
Nathan smiled grimly.
"So you really want me to get next to this Peter. Why not just go directly to him?"
"Some routes require a detour, my son." Nathan lit another cigarette and clicked the lid of his lighter with an annoying regularity. I hope you aren't being deliberately obtuse. We want you working with Peter, and Whycliffe is the only one who can make that happen." Nathan dragged on his cigarette with a determined patience then blew out the smoke and leaned toward Richard.
"I will tell you one more thing and then that will be the end of any further details you don't require, is that clear?"
Richard gave an irritated shrug and looked away. His eyes spelled out his objections.
"It's clear."
Another cigarette burst into flame and Nathan drilled Richard with a rock hard stare. "Good - the subject is closed." Nathan flipped his butt away and stood up from the table.
Richard gave Nathan a contemplative gaze. How trustworthy is this man, really, he wondered. In the past his mentors had all been academics, approachable at least on the topics of their chosen vocation. He had never felt any doubt or worry over the guidance received.Nathan was different.