Bond carefully and slowly reached into his pocket for the keys and handed them over. He desperately tried to keep his eyes off the car he and Leiter had so recently emerged from – Cooper hadn’t seemed to have noticed that there had been three of them when they drove up.
“Is this where you’ve been hiding, Cooper?” asked Felix, like Bond not wanting their captor to look towards the car. “Paris, Texas with an occasional trip to Paris, France to visit your lady friend?”
“Never mind that. Now, towards the door. No tricks”.
“All right”, said Bond, “still, it’s hardly the Left Bank of the Seine, is it?”
They walked away from the direction of the Mustang and to the warehouse door Leonie had gone through. Cooper banged loudly on the door and it was opened. He waved Bond and Leiter through. After the sunlight Bond’s eyes found it dark inside, but he could recognise the silhouette walking towards them well enough.
“So you’ve got them, then?” said Leonie.
“No problem. They were looking the wrong way, for you and not me”.
Leonie laughed. She was close now, and Bond could see those bright green eyes shining at him with triumph.
“Hello again, James”, she said, “you and your friend here have been rather persistent. Very well, I believe such persistence should be rewarded. What do you think, DB3?”
Cooper smiled. “I’m DB2, Leonie, but yes. Come with us!”
DB2? DB3? Bond thought. What the hell?
The man indicated that they should go through the next door into the main room of the warehouse. Leonie opened the door and they went in.
This room, taking up the main body of the warehouse, was brightly lit and twenty or so men sat at tables, playing cards, smoking, and drinking coffee. There was no sign of alcohol. The men stopped and they all stood and stared at the newcomers. Bond and Leiter stared back. This was uncanny.
It was somewhat like looking at identical twins or triplets, except there were too many of them. The men were all white and in their forties, with brown eyes and short dark hair parted on the left. They were all about the same height, maybe five foot nine, and clean shaven. They were neither overweight nor under. All wore black trousers and shoes, white shirts with dark ties, and had a black jacket over their chair. One of them took a step forward.
“Hello Mr Leiter”, he said, “and I see that you’ve brought your friend Mr Bond. I’m DB Cooper”.
Leiter looked at the man still holding a gun on them. “But I thought …”
The gunman gave a short chuckle. “Yes, I’m DB Cooper”.
The other waved a hand around the room at the others, who now all came forward to face Bond and Leiter.
“And I’m DB Cooper” said one. “I’m DB Cooper”, said another.
The one who appeared to be the leader spoke before another could lay claim to the name. “That’s enough, my friends. I think they have the idea”.
Bond and Leiter exchanged glances. “No we most certainly do not”, said Bond, “what on Earth is going on here?”
“Yeah, and this isn’t the last scene of Spartacus”, said Felix. “You can’t all be DB Cooper, I know that. He’s the most wanted man in America, we’d have noticed something like this by now”.
“Oh, you would?” asked the leader. “Then why are we here? Why have you come here all the way from France and still can’t understand what’s happening right in front of your eyes? Take a seat, gentlemen. My friend will keep his gun aimed at you just in case you think of trying anything stupid”.
The crowd of identical men went back to their chairs. Leonie linked arms with the leader while Bond and Leiter found seats, acutely aware that they were at gunpoint.
The leader spoke slowly and clearly. “The first thing you have to understand, gentlemen, is that I am DB Cooper and at the same time none of us is DB Cooper, for the simple reason that there is no DB Cooper. I used the name “Dan Cooper” when booking my seat on the Northwest Orient Airlines flight of November 24, 1971 from Portland to Seattle and the great American Press, well known as ever for their accuracy, misspelled that as “DB Cooper”. Not that it matters, for neither of those is my real name”.
“Which is …?” enquired Leiter.
“Which is not something you will ever find out, Mr Leiter”, said Leonie with a satisfied smirk.
“You have been on my tail for some time” continued Cooper. “I have tried twice to have you eliminated in Paris – Paris, France, that is – using agents and neither time proved successful. I see that I will have to finish that job myself, but I will gratify some of your curiosity first”.
“Just not your name”, said Bond.
“No, Mr Bond, I do not see that it is necessary. But you must first of all want to know how there are so many of us here who are so much alike. It’s quite simple, really. We are not. Once you get past the initial startling effect, you will notice that some of us are slightly taller or shorter than others. Some are a little older or younger, and so on. A little hair dye has been judiciously used where needed. Nothing drastic, nothing obvious at first glance. So any one of us could pass for one of the others without difficulty on brief acquaintance, which is exactly how I want it.
You see, while there is no such thing as an invisible man there is such a thing as an unnoticed man. A man who can walk through any crowd and not make any impact. You will have noticed already the lack of anything distinguishing or noticeable about me and all of my friends gathered here. Such a man could, let us say, hijack an airplane and get away without the crew having more than a vague idea of what he looked like”.
“Exactly what you did last year”, said Bond.
“Precisely. And you may or may not have noticed in the press a phenomenon called “Disciples Of DB Cooper”. Many people, you see, were excited by the fact that I hijacked a plane and got away with a large sum of money, without anyone being harmed I might add, and thought they could do the same. Those who survived are now doing long, long spells behind bars.
That, Mr Leiter and Mr Bond, is simply because they saw only the superficial aspects of what I succeeded in carrying out. They lacked planning which, if I may be so immodest, is my forte”.
“All right, Cooper, or whatever your name is, I grant you that”, said Leiter. “You planned your hijacking job really well. Nobody got hurt and you managed to get away. Congratulations for all that. Now, what’s with all the lookalikes?”
“I am going to top my achievement, create an Everest in crime. It is almost Thanksgiving Eve again, November 24. At the same time that day on twenty-four different planes, twenty-four men all resembling DB Cooper will hold them to ransom, this time for one million dollars each plane. There are twenty-four bombs ready in this warehouse. They will all use names that are anagrams of “DB Cooper”.
“Such as C.O. Probed?” asked Leiter.
“Bored Cop?” said Bond.
Cooper smiled.
“Nothing so obvious, gentlemen. You are forgetting the one main rule of the character I have created – nothing must stand out. They will all get away with it like I got away with it, and it won’t take long for the authorities to figure out the twenty-four anagrams and see who is behind such a feat in crime”.
To Be Continued
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 31,007Chief of Staff
What an interesting story and idea…and several little nuggets in there too…lovely 👏🏻👏🏻😁
However, I made a slight error above in saying "continued" rather than "concluded" as I usually do at this point. Tomorrow's chapter will be the final one in this story.
Very good, and @Sonero’s illustrations take on an added meaning now. I thought DAF Blofeld might be involved at some point. It’s over far too soon but I can’t wait for the conclusion 😁
Yeah, well, sometimes nothin' can be a real cool hand.
I originally thought the multi-Coopers were going to be the same as Blofeld making duplicates of himself as in DAF, the fact that the Coopers are all nondescript people ended that strain of thought - your idea is far superior and fascinating, and certainly not beyond the realms of possibility, it’s an inspired idea, as someone once said in a very popular movie 😁
Yeah, well, sometimes nothin' can be a real cool hand.
“So you’re not doing this for the money”, said Bond, “you’re carrying out all this for ego – so the authorities that you have already outwitted will know that you have outwitted them again”.
“But of course, Mr Bond”, said Cooper. “My confederates here, the other Coopers”, he smiled, “shall naturally require payment but I will be satisfied with the knowledge that once again I have succeeded where so many others have failed – and succeeded in grand style, you will have to admit”.
“You’re mad”, said Bond.
“Yeah, you’ll never pull that off”, added Leiter.
“You think that? I would love to see your faces after I do just that, but I am afraid gentlemen that this is where we – “
The amplified voice echoed all around them.
“This is the Police. Throw your weapons down and come out with your hands up. Repeat, this is the Police. Throw your weapons down and come out with your hands up”.
The warehouse burst into frenzied activity, the lookalikes all scurrying round like terrified ants desperately trying to find an exit. One opened a side door then came hopping back inside at the sound of gunfire. The man guarding Bond and Leiter looked feverishly all around, giving Bond plenty of time to chop him to the ground and grab his gun. The leader ran off into an office on the left, leaving Leonie wailing behind him.
Bond chased the real Cooper, or whatever he was called, into the office while Felix grabbed Leonie with his good arm.
“You, little lady, are under arrest”, he said.
“Oh yeah? What for?” The French accent had completely gone.
“Poor taste in boyfriends”.
The warehouse was flooded with police, guns at the ready, and the weakly armed lookalikes went down to the floor in surrender. Candice Chase came in after the police and went straight to Leiter.
“Felix, where’s James?” she demanded.
“In that office over there”. He pointed with his chin.
Bond cannoned through the door to find Cooper scrabbling in one of the desk drawers to find a pistol which he rather shakily aimed at Bond.
“You’re a brave man, Cooper”, said Bond, “or you wouldn’t have pulled off that parachuting from a plane stunt, without the faintest idea where you would land. You’re a clever one, too, I think we all acknowledge that. I know that you can make arrangements for someone to be killed, you tried that with my friend and me, but you can’t do it yourself. You are not a killer”.
Bond pointed his gun straight at Cooper’s heart.
“I am. It’s part of my job. Your hand is trembling, have you noticed? Mine isn’t. Try to pull that trigger and I’ll have you dead before your bullet leaves the chamber”.
Their eyes met for an eternity, before Cooper slowly lowered his gun. His head went down as the door opened and what seemed like the entire Paris, Texas Police Force burst in.
“ …and I ended up doing some work on my leave time, sir” said Bond on the phone at the local Police HQ.
“So I understand”, growled M. “And all to help that friend of yours, Leiter”.
“It certainly was, sir, and I’d do it again if I had to. He’s laid his life on the line for me many times”.
“Let’s hope it never comes to that. All right, James, consider your leave as starting from tomorrow. I’ll see you back here in two weeks”.
“Yes, sir, and thanks”.
He came out of the Captain’s office and stood with Felix and Candice.
“Have we all given statements now?” he asked.
“In great detail”, said Felix.
“I managed to pick up your guns outside the warehouse before calling the cops”, said Candice. “I’ll give you them back at the hotel”.
“Would you care to join us for dinner there, Candice?” asked Bond.
“I think you can start calling me “Candy”, James”, she said.
Felix looked from Bond to Candice. He knew the signs.
“Just you two go ahead. I for one am bushed”, he sighed.
The End
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 31,007Chief of Staff
I love these mash-ups, great fun and extremely well written 😁
It’s the 6th Birthday of this thread, “Imaginary Conversations”!
As ever, I’d like to thank everyone who has collaborated or contributed to the thread – no list, I don’t want to take a chance on missing someone out.
For newcomers, this started as a series of short humourous sketches way back in July 2020. That explains the title. If I knew then what would happen later I’d have come up with a different title, but we’re stuck with it now.
It has changed over time, and somewhere around page 130-140 began to be more about short stories than comedy sketches. I am very much enjoying writing these and hope to continue as long as inspiration allows me.
Recently I noticed the view count and hoped it would reach 100k by this point, but I’ll just have to settle for 99.5.
And as usual I have no idea what the next story will be about or how soon it will appear!
Thank you all very much, guys. And I was totally surprised to find another story came to mind out of the blue and I've been busy writing it out. Well, I say out of the blue - Sonero's post at 5360 got me thinking ...
Rene Mathis had kicked off his stylish shoes and was sitting back with a small glass of wine while making up his mind where to dine that evening.
The Italian restaurant was tempting, he thought, though he had been there twice the previous week – once in the company of an elegant lady from the Luxemburg Embassy he had met in the course of duty for the Deuxieme Bureau. Their next date was planned for tomorrow evening, so he wouldn’t go there tonight alone just in case she wanted to return.
None of the Asian establishments appealed to him tonight. Perhaps the dining room at the Tower …?
A knock at the door took him out of his reverie. He wasn’t expecting anyone and it was too late for the postal service. He slipped his shoes on again, checked for his pistol, and went to the door of his bâtiment de plusieurs chambres. A hidden camera gave him a view of what was outside – an elderly man, dressed plainly, carrying a bulky flat parcel under one arm. An unlikely assassin, Mathis thought, though he still opened the door on the chain first.
“Oui?” he asked.
“Monsieur Mathis?” The voice was strongly accented. Spanish or Portugese.
“Yes, that’s me” he replied, still in French.
“May I come in for a few moments? I have something to show you”.
It had taken this long for Mathis to recognise his visitor.
“But of course, sir”, he said, “it is an honour to receive you”. He unlocked the chain and stood aside to let the old man enter.
“You know who I am, then”, the visitor said.
“I know who you are, in common with most of Europe if not the world”, replied Mathis, “please, have a seat. May I offer you a glass of wine?”
“Sadly, no. I cannot drink any more”, said the old man as he sat. “M. Mathis, I have something to discuss with you and it would simplify matters enormously if I start by showing you this”.
He took the wrappings from his package. Mathis’ eyes bulged.
“Is that … is that what I think it is?” he said.
His visitor sighed. “It is. And now I must give you an explanation ….”
To Be Continued
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 31,007Chief of Staff
Comments
Much appreciated, Sir M, but the ending is not far off I'm afraid.
Nice link with Holmes 😁
Excellent, as always, and another couple of nice illustrations that compliment the text from @Sonero 👏
Thanks, CHB, I thought you'd like that Holmes reference.
Illustration by Sonero
Chapter Three
Cooper held out his hand to Bond.
“The car keys”.
Bond carefully and slowly reached into his pocket for the keys and handed them over. He desperately tried to keep his eyes off the car he and Leiter had so recently emerged from – Cooper hadn’t seemed to have noticed that there had been three of them when they drove up.
“Is this where you’ve been hiding, Cooper?” asked Felix, like Bond not wanting their captor to look towards the car. “Paris, Texas with an occasional trip to Paris, France to visit your lady friend?”
“Never mind that. Now, towards the door. No tricks”.
“All right”, said Bond, “still, it’s hardly the Left Bank of the Seine, is it?”
They walked away from the direction of the Mustang and to the warehouse door Leonie had gone through. Cooper banged loudly on the door and it was opened. He waved Bond and Leiter through. After the sunlight Bond’s eyes found it dark inside, but he could recognise the silhouette walking towards them well enough.
“So you’ve got them, then?” said Leonie.
“No problem. They were looking the wrong way, for you and not me”.
Leonie laughed. She was close now, and Bond could see those bright green eyes shining at him with triumph.
“Hello again, James”, she said, “you and your friend here have been rather persistent. Very well, I believe such persistence should be rewarded. What do you think, DB3?”
Cooper smiled. “I’m DB2, Leonie, but yes. Come with us!”
DB2? DB3? Bond thought. What the hell?
The man indicated that they should go through the next door into the main room of the warehouse. Leonie opened the door and they went in.
This room, taking up the main body of the warehouse, was brightly lit and twenty or so men sat at tables, playing cards, smoking, and drinking coffee. There was no sign of alcohol. The men stopped and they all stood and stared at the newcomers. Bond and Leiter stared back. This was uncanny.
It was somewhat like looking at identical twins or triplets, except there were too many of them. The men were all white and in their forties, with brown eyes and short dark hair parted on the left. They were all about the same height, maybe five foot nine, and clean shaven. They were neither overweight nor under. All wore black trousers and shoes, white shirts with dark ties, and had a black jacket over their chair. One of them took a step forward.
“Hello Mr Leiter”, he said, “and I see that you’ve brought your friend Mr Bond. I’m DB Cooper”.
Leiter looked at the man still holding a gun on them. “But I thought …”
The gunman gave a short chuckle. “Yes, I’m DB Cooper”.
The other waved a hand around the room at the others, who now all came forward to face Bond and Leiter.
“And I’m DB Cooper” said one. “I’m DB Cooper”, said another.
The one who appeared to be the leader spoke before another could lay claim to the name. “That’s enough, my friends. I think they have the idea”.
Bond and Leiter exchanged glances. “No we most certainly do not”, said Bond, “what on Earth is going on here?”
“Yeah, and this isn’t the last scene of Spartacus”, said Felix. “You can’t all be DB Cooper, I know that. He’s the most wanted man in America, we’d have noticed something like this by now”.
“Oh, you would?” asked the leader. “Then why are we here? Why have you come here all the way from France and still can’t understand what’s happening right in front of your eyes? Take a seat, gentlemen. My friend will keep his gun aimed at you just in case you think of trying anything stupid”.
The crowd of identical men went back to their chairs. Leonie linked arms with the leader while Bond and Leiter found seats, acutely aware that they were at gunpoint.
The leader spoke slowly and clearly. “The first thing you have to understand, gentlemen, is that I am DB Cooper and at the same time none of us is DB Cooper, for the simple reason that there is no DB Cooper. I used the name “Dan Cooper” when booking my seat on the Northwest Orient Airlines flight of November 24, 1971 from Portland to Seattle and the great American Press, well known as ever for their accuracy, misspelled that as “DB Cooper”. Not that it matters, for neither of those is my real name”.
“Which is …?” enquired Leiter.
“Which is not something you will ever find out, Mr Leiter”, said Leonie with a satisfied smirk.
“You have been on my tail for some time” continued Cooper. “I have tried twice to have you eliminated in Paris – Paris, France, that is – using agents and neither time proved successful. I see that I will have to finish that job myself, but I will gratify some of your curiosity first”.
“Just not your name”, said Bond.
“No, Mr Bond, I do not see that it is necessary. But you must first of all want to know how there are so many of us here who are so much alike. It’s quite simple, really. We are not. Once you get past the initial startling effect, you will notice that some of us are slightly taller or shorter than others. Some are a little older or younger, and so on. A little hair dye has been judiciously used where needed. Nothing drastic, nothing obvious at first glance. So any one of us could pass for one of the others without difficulty on brief acquaintance, which is exactly how I want it.
You see, while there is no such thing as an invisible man there is such a thing as an unnoticed man. A man who can walk through any crowd and not make any impact. You will have noticed already the lack of anything distinguishing or noticeable about me and all of my friends gathered here. Such a man could, let us say, hijack an airplane and get away without the crew having more than a vague idea of what he looked like”.
“Exactly what you did last year”, said Bond.
“Precisely. And you may or may not have noticed in the press a phenomenon called “Disciples Of DB Cooper”. Many people, you see, were excited by the fact that I hijacked a plane and got away with a large sum of money, without anyone being harmed I might add, and thought they could do the same. Those who survived are now doing long, long spells behind bars.
That, Mr Leiter and Mr Bond, is simply because they saw only the superficial aspects of what I succeeded in carrying out. They lacked planning which, if I may be so immodest, is my forte”.
“All right, Cooper, or whatever your name is, I grant you that”, said Leiter. “You planned your hijacking job really well. Nobody got hurt and you managed to get away. Congratulations for all that. Now, what’s with all the lookalikes?”
“I am going to top my achievement, create an Everest in crime. It is almost Thanksgiving Eve again, November 24. At the same time that day on twenty-four different planes, twenty-four men all resembling DB Cooper will hold them to ransom, this time for one million dollars each plane. There are twenty-four bombs ready in this warehouse. They will all use names that are anagrams of “DB Cooper”.
“Such as C.O. Probed?” asked Leiter.
“Bored Cop?” said Bond.
Cooper smiled.
“Nothing so obvious, gentlemen. You are forgetting the one main rule of the character I have created – nothing must stand out. They will all get away with it like I got away with it, and it won’t take long for the authorities to figure out the twenty-four anagrams and see who is behind such a feat in crime”.
To Be Continued
What an interesting story and idea…and several little nuggets in there too…lovely 👏🏻👏🏻😁
Thank you, glad to hear you say that.
However, I made a slight error above in saying "continued" rather than "concluded" as I usually do at this point. Tomorrow's chapter will be the final one in this story.
Very good, and @Sonero’s illustrations take on an added meaning now. I thought DAF Blofeld might be involved at some point. It’s over far too soon but I can’t wait for the conclusion 😁
Conclusion will be posted soon.
Yes, @Sonero has done well, again. What made you think about DAF Blofeld, the timing? That's due to DB Cooper.
I originally thought the multi-Coopers were going to be the same as Blofeld making duplicates of himself as in DAF, the fact that the Coopers are all nondescript people ended that strain of thought - your idea is far superior and fascinating, and certainly not beyond the realms of possibility, it’s an inspired idea, as someone once said in a very popular movie 😁
Yes, I believe I've seen that one. Many thanks for all the kind words, and now to the conclusion.
Chapter Four
“So you’re not doing this for the money”, said Bond, “you’re carrying out all this for ego – so the authorities that you have already outwitted will know that you have outwitted them again”.
“But of course, Mr Bond”, said Cooper. “My confederates here, the other Coopers”, he smiled, “shall naturally require payment but I will be satisfied with the knowledge that once again I have succeeded where so many others have failed – and succeeded in grand style, you will have to admit”.
“You’re mad”, said Bond.
“Yeah, you’ll never pull that off”, added Leiter.
“You think that? I would love to see your faces after I do just that, but I am afraid gentlemen that this is where we – “
The amplified voice echoed all around them.
“This is the Police. Throw your weapons down and come out with your hands up. Repeat, this is the Police. Throw your weapons down and come out with your hands up”.
The warehouse burst into frenzied activity, the lookalikes all scurrying round like terrified ants desperately trying to find an exit. One opened a side door then came hopping back inside at the sound of gunfire. The man guarding Bond and Leiter looked feverishly all around, giving Bond plenty of time to chop him to the ground and grab his gun. The leader ran off into an office on the left, leaving Leonie wailing behind him.
Bond chased the real Cooper, or whatever he was called, into the office while Felix grabbed Leonie with his good arm.
“You, little lady, are under arrest”, he said.
“Oh yeah? What for?” The French accent had completely gone.
“Poor taste in boyfriends”.
The warehouse was flooded with police, guns at the ready, and the weakly armed lookalikes went down to the floor in surrender. Candice Chase came in after the police and went straight to Leiter.
“Felix, where’s James?” she demanded.
“In that office over there”. He pointed with his chin.
Bond cannoned through the door to find Cooper scrabbling in one of the desk drawers to find a pistol which he rather shakily aimed at Bond.
“You’re a brave man, Cooper”, said Bond, “or you wouldn’t have pulled off that parachuting from a plane stunt, without the faintest idea where you would land. You’re a clever one, too, I think we all acknowledge that. I know that you can make arrangements for someone to be killed, you tried that with my friend and me, but you can’t do it yourself. You are not a killer”.
Bond pointed his gun straight at Cooper’s heart.
“I am. It’s part of my job. Your hand is trembling, have you noticed? Mine isn’t. Try to pull that trigger and I’ll have you dead before your bullet leaves the chamber”.
Their eyes met for an eternity, before Cooper slowly lowered his gun. His head went down as the door opened and what seemed like the entire Paris, Texas Police Force burst in.
“ …and I ended up doing some work on my leave time, sir” said Bond on the phone at the local Police HQ.
“So I understand”, growled M. “And all to help that friend of yours, Leiter”.
“It certainly was, sir, and I’d do it again if I had to. He’s laid his life on the line for me many times”.
“Let’s hope it never comes to that. All right, James, consider your leave as starting from tomorrow. I’ll see you back here in two weeks”.
“Yes, sir, and thanks”.
He came out of the Captain’s office and stood with Felix and Candice.
“Have we all given statements now?” he asked.
“In great detail”, said Felix.
“I managed to pick up your guns outside the warehouse before calling the cops”, said Candice. “I’ll give you them back at the hotel”.
“Would you care to join us for dinner there, Candice?” asked Bond.
“I think you can start calling me “Candy”, James”, she said.
Felix looked from Bond to Candice. He knew the signs.
“Just you two go ahead. I for one am bushed”, he sighed.
The End
I love these mash-ups, great fun and extremely well written 😁
Bravo Barbel.
👏👏👏👏
I throughly enjoyed reading this wonderful adventure.
Keep up the great work.
Another super story, thanks Barbel 👏🍸
Thank you all, guys.
Big thanks to @Sonero for the illustrations.
Most welcome @Barbel.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
It’s the 6th Birthday of this thread, “Imaginary Conversations”!
As ever, I’d like to thank everyone who has collaborated or contributed to the thread – no list, I don’t want to take a chance on missing someone out.
For newcomers, this started as a series of short humourous sketches way back in July 2020. That explains the title. If I knew then what would happen later I’d have come up with a different title, but we’re stuck with it now.
It has changed over time, and somewhere around page 130-140 began to be more about short stories than comedy sketches. I am very much enjoying writing these and hope to continue as long as inspiration allows me.
Recently I noticed the view count and hoped it would reach 100k by this point, but I’ll just have to settle for 99.5.
And as usual I have no idea what the next story will be about or how soon it will appear!
Great achievement for the thread.
Barbel, thank you for writing such great 007 short stories.
They are like Vermeer's paintings...small pieces of heaven.
And we all thoroughly enjoy reading them.
Please keep up the great work...you are an inspiration to us all.
Happy birthday to this thread - and long may it continue 🎂
Happy 6th birthday to this thread…and congratulations to the father for nurturing this thread to where it is today 😁
Thank you all very much, guys. And I was totally surprised to find another story came to mind out of the blue and I've been busy writing it out. Well, I say out of the blue - Sonero's post at 5360 got me thinking ...
I'm planning to start posting it tomorrow.
1969
Preface
Rene Mathis had kicked off his stylish shoes and was sitting back with a small glass of wine while making up his mind where to dine that evening.
The Italian restaurant was tempting, he thought, though he had been there twice the previous week – once in the company of an elegant lady from the Luxemburg Embassy he had met in the course of duty for the Deuxieme Bureau. Their next date was planned for tomorrow evening, so he wouldn’t go there tonight alone just in case she wanted to return.
None of the Asian establishments appealed to him tonight. Perhaps the dining room at the Tower …?
A knock at the door took him out of his reverie. He wasn’t expecting anyone and it was too late for the postal service. He slipped his shoes on again, checked for his pistol, and went to the door of his bâtiment de plusieurs chambres. A hidden camera gave him a view of what was outside – an elderly man, dressed plainly, carrying a bulky flat parcel under one arm. An unlikely assassin, Mathis thought, though he still opened the door on the chain first.
“Oui?” he asked.
“Monsieur Mathis?” The voice was strongly accented. Spanish or Portugese.
“Yes, that’s me” he replied, still in French.
“May I come in for a few moments? I have something to show you”.
It had taken this long for Mathis to recognise his visitor.
“But of course, sir”, he said, “it is an honour to receive you”. He unlocked the chain and stood aside to let the old man enter.
“You know who I am, then”, the visitor said.
“I know who you are, in common with most of Europe if not the world”, replied Mathis, “please, have a seat. May I offer you a glass of wine?”
“Sadly, no. I cannot drink any more”, said the old man as he sat. “M. Mathis, I have something to discuss with you and it would simplify matters enormously if I start by showing you this”.
He took the wrappings from his package. Mathis’ eyes bulged.
“Is that … is that what I think it is?” he said.
His visitor sighed. “It is. And now I must give you an explanation ….”
To Be Continued
A very interesting start 👀😁
You might not find out what is in the package ....
A MacGuffin? 🤔
Although my mind - such as it is 🤗 - immediately pictured this…
🤭
🤣 Mathis! Of course!
No, it's not a MacGuffin and we'll be looking at it very soon ....
I’m wanting to know where this is going 😁
I sincerely hope you mean Barbel’s excellent story and NOT my mind…that would be the stuff of nightmares 😮
Can't comment on that. Chapter One very soon (this is much shorter than the last story, btw) but first
Illustration by Sonero