Hope you all had a great few weeks, it's been busy by me. Next chapter to follow...and Nero and Cincinnatus to return very soon! Vie Victus!
Agent Gogoshen gave the beggar’s car a final once over before stepping off the 4:35 out of Rome. He glanced at the destination board, ignoring everything on the listing until he arrived at the bottom location: Ravenna Major Terminal. With a satisfied nod to himself he made his way over to the concession counter where the harried clerk was struggling to finish her sales to the long queue of travelers anxious to complete their purchases. He stood near the display of tonic waters and kept his eye on the platform.
The final train heading towards Ravenna this week often attracted a large number of travelers and today was no exception. The conductors were doing the best they can to get the passengers loaded, checking tickets against ID papers while linemen were walking along the base of the locomotive cars with long necked cans of lubricating oil, squirting both sides of every axle they passed. Luggage handlers were standing on top the cars while stevedores tossed cases and baggage up to be lashed in place. Hundreds and hundreds of people were milling about, and to Gogoshen’s trained eyes, no one was standing around being suspicious or just observing.
Except himself that is.
“Well?” One of the customer’s from the counter had sidled up next to the Agent, a wax wrapped sandwich held loosely in his left hand. He had on a slouch cap that had been washed enough times it was a greyish-brown color. His second hand coat had the collars turned up, obscuring part of his face.
“Looks ok.”
“Good enough for me.” He reached out and shook Gogoshen’s hand. “You are doing your country a great service, Agent. I am proud to have someone like you defending the principles this country was built upon.”
“Only doing what I know is right, Master Director.” Agent Gogoshen seemed to swell up with pride while he clasped hands with Felix Zhinskius. On the platform the main conductor was wandering down the wooden planks, pocket watch in his hand, shouting, “All Aboard! 4:35 leaving in 1 minute! All Aboard!”
“That’s my cue.” Felix reached into his overcoat pocket and pulled out a slightly crinkled ticket. “I’ll keep you posted, Agent Gogoshen.” With a final nod, Felix walked away from beaming Agent and made his way to the beggar’s car. The ticket agent here was not comparing the cheaper tickets to ID’s, making the hurried line of passengers move faster but the quality of people on board left something to be desired.
Satisfied that Master Director Zhinskius was on board, Agent Gogoshen turned towards the row of peddler’s carts that were near the muddy base of the train platform and perused the wares until he stopped at a wine seller’s cart. “Cup of Seven Hills Red,” he asked in a monotone voice.
“Would you prefer a Rosé? I have a nice Foxmeadow?” the seller replied.
“The foxes do love to wander,” the Agent answered. When the seller tapped the top of his cart with his ring finger twice in rapid succession Gogoshen relaxed slightly. “He’s on.”
“Ravenna?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We’re going to extract at Casalotti Station.” The wine seller took a small brown bottle from his cart, checked the cork was set, and handed it to Gogoshen.
“Terrific.” Gogoshen handed the man a 20 lira piece, taking the bottle in return. “I feel like filth,” he grimaced.
The seller shrugged, “Comes with the territory.”
“Whatever.” The locomotive gave a loud whistling blast and then the train began moving with ponderous purpose away from the platform and on its way. Agent Gogoshen turned away and made his way through the garbage choked street until he was back on Venezia Boulevard. He walked along the crowded road, his shoulders bowed and heart heavy.
What does that make me? he mused,
Am I a double agent for crossing the Master Director or am I a patriot for double crossing him? There was no answer to be found as he strode the cobbled street; only questions.
Meanwhile, five minutes earlier, one of the passengers on the beggar’s car embraced Felix as he boarded, clapping the Master Director on the back. He held his hand out and took Zhinskius’ hat and coat from him. “Any problems, sir?”
Felix smiled. “None, whatsoever.” The other man handed Felix a paper bag with a plaid tweed jacket and stovetop hat which Felix quickly slipped on. He patted the pocket and felt the ticket within. “Pisae Heights Station?” he asked.
“As requested, boss.”
With a satisfied grunt and nod, Zhinskius placed a hand on the covert agent’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Perfect.” The two men locked eyes. “You are doing your country a great service, Agent. I am proud to have someone like you defending the principles this country was built upon.”
“Happy to do my part, boss.” The locomotive gave a whistling blast, signaling it was about to leave. “You should go,” he said, pulling Felix’ slouch cap low while slipping his overcoat on.
“Will do. Be careful, they’ll probably try and intercept at Casalotti or Vittoria.”
The agent gave a wry grin. “Not bothered, boss. Get out of here.”
Felix smiled, made his way to the back of the beggar’s car, kicked the floor trap open and shimmied out the hole and onto the tracks amidst the angry grumblings from the passengers within. He crouched low as the 4:35 to Ravenna picked up speed and the beggar’s car and eventual caboose passed over his head.
Once no longer under the cover of the accelerating train, Felix mixed in with the various linesmen wandering the tracks, made his way to the platform on the south side, and entered the short line of men waiting to use the lavatory. Once inside he purposely let two men cut ahead of him until the far stall became available. His head held high he entered the squat stall and slid the locking bar closed.
With deft motions he stripped off his tweed jacket, jammed it into the stovepipe hat, and then proceeded to take his pants off as well, adding it to the hat. He then reached behind the commodus until his fingers felt a stiff wire. He pulled the wire with a single jerking motion and a hollow spot in the back wall opened up. With delicate care he backed himself into the space until he was in the dank wet wall behind the bathroom. The wire was unhooked from the nail placed on the inside of the panel and the panel itself was nudged back into place until it was snuggly fitting.
Feeling around the dimly lit interior, Felix felt the burlap bundle he placed here a week earlier before he visited the Adept one final time and took it down from its hook. He opened the bag and withdrew new pants, a grey and red trimmed overcoat, and a flat wool hat that was popular in Leptis Magna. Once dressed he placed his other clothes in the bag and then felt his way along the darkness until he arrived at the access door. A quick peek through showed no one nearby and with a confident twist of the knob, Felix emerged onto Platform IV and joined the mass of citizenry making their way to the waiting 5:15 nightly express on its way to Grand Antium Station.
“Just made it, Brother,” the conductor said as he gave Felix’ ticket and ID a cursory glance. “Grab any seat you’d like.”
“Thank you, Brother.” He paused. “Any idea when we arrive in Antium?”
“Should be by 4:30 in the morning.”
Nodding his thanks, Felix made his way to the far end of the passenger car where he sat down with a satisfied grunt. He glanced out the window and smiled as his fingers played with the heavy crease on his counterfeit ID badge. He gave a quick look. “Johannes Ferraro”. Felix chuckled aloud.
Can’t get any more common than that, he thought.
Eventually the 5:15 pulled out of the station and chugged its way through the business district of Rome’s heart. To Zhinskius he looked on the tall buildings, wide avenues, and tree lined parks with a wry grin.
I’ll be back. Soon, my dear, he crooned internally to the city he loved.
Just have to stay one step ahead until the vote to declare the Chairman’s seat open comes up next month. And then we can see about filling it at long last and getting this country back to where it’s supposed to be.
“Can I interest you in some pipe weed, a cigar, or cigarettes?”
The voice snapped him out of his silent musing and Felix turned to see the train’s smoking girl standing near; her tray of wares held in front of her, twin straps ran up and over her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Sister,” he said with a depreciating grin. “You surprised me.” He looked over her tray quickly and pointed to an open box of cigars. “Are those Gizan?”
“Yes they are.”
“Terrific. I’ll take one please.” He fished out a silver 3-lira piece. She cut the end off the cigar and handed it to him, taking the silver coin in return. He placed it between his lips as she then lit a sulfur match on the side of her tray and then held it to his cigar. Felix sucked in a few times, getting the end of the Gizan cigar well lit, while his eyes took in her cleavage as she held the position a moment longer.
She stood up with a smile and asked, “Will there be anything else, sir?”
Taking a deep draw of the cigar and letting the smoke coil about his mouth before letting it out with a grin, Felix shook his head. “No thank you, this is perfect. Just what I needed.” His grin grew wider, “You know, you are doing your country a great service, Sister.”
She giggled, “Just doing my job.”
Felix watched her shapely behind as she made her way to the next passenger to offer her wares to him before looking back out the window again. Absently he reached into his pocket and took out the wax paper wrapped sandwich he purchased earlier. As he opened it, the wrapper making a wet crinkly sound until he managed to withdraw half and take a small bite, he sighed deeply from the bottom of his heart. “So am I,” he whispered.
