“Oh, yeah, this is really subtle.”
“What? No one can tell that we’re talking to each other.”
“There’s a giant white statue. It couldn’t draw any more attention to us if it was a neon sign with a freaking arrow.”
He glanced over at the statue and then back to his sandwich. To anyone passing by he seemed to be eating lunch, taking a break from a busy morning; but in fact there was a small transistor nestled in the cardboard bread. The smell of ranch dressing wafted through the air and made him wrinkle his nose. Sometimes R&D were TOO good at their jobs. “We’re hiding in plain sight. Weren’t you paying attention in Spycraft with Professor Bullion?”
“Hiding in plain sight means you’re the waiter at a cocktail party full of waiters – not you’re the guys sitting right next to the most visited sculpture in the city. Look, that tourist is taking a freaking picture of us.”
“He’s taking a picture of the STATUE.”
“Which we are in.”
“Would you please focus? The Argentinians will be here any minute, and we need to optimize our strategy for maximum impact. Now, if you enter the building by the West-”
“Look, now there’s a tour group!”
“What?”
“A tour group! He’s telling them about the history of the statue or something.”
“Would you focus?”
“I am focusing. On the tour guide’s ass.”
“Jesus. We have – eight minutes and thirty two seconds before an entire contingent of highly trained operatives descends on our heads.”
“I have about twenty seconds before this contingent of Japanese tourists descends on my mockingly fake sandwich. What flavour is yours? They keep giving me tuna.”
“Well that’s what happens when you sleep with someone and don’t call them in the morning. You have no one to blame but yourself. So if you go in the West window on the fourth-”
“I just did the victory sign for a picture.”
“Why would you do that?!”
“Well, if we’re going to be in this many pictures I figure we need to act natural, right?”
He groaned and dropped his head into his sandwich. “No. You do not need to act natural by posing for tourists’ photographs. You need to keep your mind on your objective!!”
“Excuse me, sir?”
He looked up in alarm to find a uniformed police guard in front of him. He swore under his breath – and realised he had been rather loudly yelling at his sandwich. “Officer.”
“I’m going to have to ask you to move along, sir.”
“Move along? I’m just sitting. Enjoying my sandwich.”
Over the radio his colleague’s voice crackled, “Now you’re hooped.”
“I’m afraid loitering isn’t permitted. You have to move on.”
Again, the crackle, “Maybe you can play sexy cop? Jennifer told me you aren’t very good at it but-”
“Shut up!!”
“Excuse me?”
“Not you, Officer! I mean, I just – I need to stay here. For a minute. I’m almost done.”
“Okay, sir, I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.”
Over the radio, “Did you just get arrested? Oh, this is brilliant. Wait, let me see if I can get one of these tourists to take your picture for the breakroom fridge.”
“I am going to fucking ki– Uh–”
“On the ground! Right now!” He knew three ways to disarm the officer in six seconds. Four ways to kill him in under three. Well, one took more like seven, but that wasn’t the point. He couldn’t do any of it without drawing attention to himself.
“Don’t worry,” he heard in his sandwich, “I’ve got this covered. And when I take out the entire enemy team on my own – no more tuna sandwiches for me!”
“Jesus,” he gasped as the officer slammed him into the concrete, “I think I just got played.”
Image courtesy of Stuart Thursby. Stuart is an art director and photographer. This photo was taken during his adventures in the wilds of Germany, from which he has recently returned. To see more of his work, or to check out his portfolio, please visit StuartThursby.com.