The Meeting

"Bob."

"Steve."

The two men sat next to each other on the park bench. This time they were meeting at a small city park in Zurich near the lake. It was springtime, and the trees were just beginning to bud. Bob had his usual cup of coffee, while Steve had a soda and a bag from the local pretzel shop. Bob grinned, since he knew that Steve had a thing for the buttered pretzels. Bob was more of a battered sausage guy, himself.

"How's the little cabal this week?" asked Bob.

Steve shrugged. "Eh. Cleaning out the pirana tanks at base, stealing jewels, the usual. Nothing to write home about." He opened the bag and pulled out a chunk of buttered pretzel. Closing his eyes he said, "Oh, shit, that's good! It's been a while since I've been to Zurich."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Zurich's mostly for picking up, dropping off, and shopping on Bahnhofstrasse. Swiss intelligence is a bit too sharp for anything else."

Bob nodded. "Yes." They sat in companionable silence watching the ferry fill and then go on it's way. Once it was too far to see the boat clearly, Bob asked, "So, those files and stuff in the US..?"

The other man laughed loudly, disturbing the pigeons. "Oh, hell no, that isn't us! The Americans are doing that all by themselves. And those files? Who do you think gave the files to the Democrats?"

"Seriously?"

He opened his soda and took a long drink. "Damn-- you guys in London are getting a little slow if you hadn't figured that one out!"

Bob cracked a smile. "What makes you think we didn't?"

Steve rolled his eyes and chuckled. "But seriously," he said, sobering. "The Americans don't need a secret evil organization to do their dirty work. They're all cultists to one degree or another. And yeah, that rich guy? My boss may be evil, but he's also honorable. No trafficking, no killing kids. We're out to change the world, not make it worse!"

"Yes, well..." Bob said. "Not that I approve of your methods, but I do admire that aspect of your work."

They were quiet again as Steve finished the pretzel and Bob sipped the last of his coffee. The clouds began to gather overhead, signaling that the weather report wasn't wrong about the thunderstorms promised later in the day. Steve finished his soda, got up, put his trash in the bin, and sat back down. "How about you? How's the spy life?"

"Well, royals are getting arrested, as you know. He won't be the only one before the year is out. The prime minister is about as useful as a sea slug, and right wing cunts are trying to bring the world back to a time that never existed." Bob sighed. "Not exactly the government I signed up for, back in the day."

"It's why I jumped ship," he replied. "My org's hiring, you know."

This time Bob rolled his eyes. "Well... thanks, but no. King and Country and all that."

"Yeah. I get it. I was that way once," Steve said with a sigh. Bob stood, stretched, and turned to leave, but then Steve exclaimed, "Wait!"

"Hmm?" Bob turned back to the other man, who looked like he was weighing something carefully. Bob waited for him to spit it out.

"I heard a little something. About a certain country planning a major weapons deal in Afghanistan. I think it'll destabilize a lot of Europe if it goes through. My boss won't interfere, since, well, the dealer is... well, not a friend, really..."

"Ally? Aquaintence?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"The bald guy? With the yachts?" Bob asked.

"Yeah, that's the one!" Steve said, then stared hard at Bob. "Wait--"

"I heard the deal was in Dubai," Bob said, quietly. He sat back down on the bench, hard. "Classic. Tell the agents you suspect two slightly different stories to figure out the mole." Bob looked out over the water. "Bloody hell. Both of them know about us."

"Fuck!" Steve spat, and they both looked around the park. Bob couldn't spot anyone, but that didn't mean nobody was watching. Steve's face was white. "I know I was careful! All I wanted was--"

"Steve, don't," Bob interrupted. "There's too much shit in the world going on for you to blame yourself." He got up again, and put a hand on the other man's shoulder, smiling sadly at the man he'd known for decades. "It's been a pleasure. Truly."

Steve reached up and put his hand on Bob's. "Come with me? Please? We can--"

Bob shook his head. "I'd love to, my friend, but you and I both know that's not how this works. How people like us work."

Steve let go. "Yeah," he said. "You're right. And yeah, Bob, it's been great."

Bob sighed, squeezed the other man's shoulder, then crossed the street to the tram stop. When he got on the tram, he sat in the back of the car, purposely not sitting on the lake-view side. As the tram made its way through Old Town, he thought about how he had hoped that they'd both been careful enough to retire around the same time and find a little happiness together. Live to a ripe old age on some desert island or in a mountain chalet. But he knew, and Steve knew, it had only been a matter of time, and that time had just run out. Sighing, he got out at Haupt Bahnhof, went through the station, and out the other side, catching a taxi near the coffee shop on the corner.

"Flughafen, bitte," Bob told the young-looking driver.

"Ja, gern," the driver replied and began to navigate the city. But when the man drove past the airport exit on the motorway and kept going north, Bob sighed in resignation.

"That didn't take long," he said.

"You two have outlived your usefulness," the driver replied. "Did you really think that home office wouldn't find you out?"

"Oh, I knew they'd figure it out eventually, but, as you say, clearly we've outlived our usefulness," Bob said. "Happens to us all, in the end." He sighed again. Bob watched the scenery go by, thinking only about Steve, as the towns gave way to forest. There was nothing else to say.