In The Shoes of Sam

In the Shoes of Sam

by Cleve Taylor

Summer disappeared like it fell off a cliff. One day it was hot in the nineties, and the next day the trees shrugged their shoulders and dropped their leaves to the ground. The fig tree he had babied for three years stopped growth in midstride and the figs that he had been watching mature started shriveling. And he finally admitted that he was bored.

The most exciting thing that he had been involved in since his retirement at a youngish fifty-five years of age was when he was mistaken for a local deceased doppelganger and was given some money which was being returned to the lookalike. That incident led to an introduction to a clandestine agent who suggested that because he was a dead ringer for Sam, the doppelganger who was the ringer actually dead, that they might have some work for him if he was interested.

He decided that he was.

In large part his boredom could be tracked to the shutdowns and closures necessitated by the Covid pandemic, which he expects will be with us for years because of the large number of unvaccinated who are determined to stay that way. But as Thomas Paine said, "To argue with someone who has renounced the use of reason is like administering medicine to the dead."

But being fully vaccinated and masking where necessary, he felt he could be reasonably active while protecting himself and being minimally dangerous to others. It was with this confidence that he called the agent who had suggested that perhaps he could take Sam's place.

As luck would have it, the agent said he was glad to get the call and had in fact planned to call him . On the assumption that he would call one day, the agency had already investigated his background and discovered that he had secret clearances from his former career in Public Health which could easily be dusted off to work with them. When could he make himself available he was asked.

Having already discussed this with his wife, who said she wondered why he waited so long, he responded, "Not before tomorrow morning."

The agent said he had some business at Ft Mead the next morning and suggested that they meet for lunch at the Timbuktu Restaurant a few miles up the road. He was familiar with the place and they agreed to meet just past noon at 12:30. Because of the pandemic few people were working in their offices and most were working remotely.

The next day, wearing a mask from the car to the table, he joined the agent. "Damn, you look just like Sam. That's kind of creepy since I went to his funeral. But anyway, since we will be working together," he said as the new Sam removed his mask, "My legend name is Melvin and I will always use it when working with you. Sam's legend was Gary Phillips, which you will continue to use since we expect you to step into Sam's shoes. Your voice is slightly softer than his, but if commented on you can blame it on a slight bout with Covid which affected your speech."

In between bites of a crab cake sandwich and sips from a foam topped pint of Guinness, he signed papers, provided personal information, agreed on compensation, selected a health plan, and signed the secrets act. After Gary signed his life away, Melvin shook his hand, and said, Welcome to the company Gary. As of right now, you are an operative. I will call you tomorrow with your first assignment."

In the parking lot at the car, Melvin gave Gary a box of papers to read and a specially configured secure IPhone on which he was to conduct all and only company business. Use a strong password he was advised. If the company ever needed access to the phone, they had a back door through its security, so they did not need to know his password.

Melvin called Gary the next morning and arranged lunch at the Outback in Aspen Hill where they had first met. He explained that despite secure phones, as an added layer of security, information and assignments were person to person arrangements.

Gary was pleased that his first assignment was to meet one of Sam's informants in London to pick up a thumb drive containing information on Russia's continuing campaign to release false information in the United States to further stir up hate between the far right and moderate political and religious factions. Melvin gave Gary tickets on British Air to Heathrow. He was hoping for business class, but got economy plus seats with extra legroom instead. Melvin explained that Gary was not a business class flyer and that he had to stay true to his legend.

With the tickets Gary got a well used passport in his legend's name with his photograph in it. He was also given a Covid vaccination card for Gary Phillips with the same vaccination dates as his actual vaccination dates. No one was flying internationally without a vaccination passport and England was allowing only vaccinated travelers into the country.

Two days Later Gary was on an overnight flight out of Dulles Airport to London Heathrow. Flying Covid was exhausting. Long, slow lines, anxious and prickly passengers, a couple who loudly complained about mask requirements, and worst of all, the inability to sleep more than a couple of catnaps while in flight. Heathrow, at 6:30 a. m. London time was the same slow exasperating process as was boarding at Dulles. Gary had only a carry on bag and nothing to declare so his departure was a little less complicated than some others.

Outside the departure hall he took a taxi to the Hilton Hotel just north of the Marble Arch on Edgeware Rd where an early arrival had been arranged. Gary checked in and went straight to bed to get some of the sleep he missed on the flight over. His meet with the informant was set for the following morning at nine, after which Gary would try for a noon return flight to Washington. The informant knew what Gary looked like, and had insisted that he would meet only with Gary because he trusted him. Gary had been shown a picture of the informant which Gary had to commit to memory. It would not do for something to go sideways and a picture of the informant turn up in the wrong hands.

Gary's short Taxi ride straight down the street to the Marble Arch delivered him ten minutes early. He did not want to hang around any more than was necessary. He had a Times newspaper news section with him, "So clever and trite of me," he thought to himself as he looked around casually for his contact. His contact spotted him first and approached him with a double decker tour bus map in his hand and asked Gary if he knew where the red line tour bus stop was. Gary took the map from him, looked at it., pointed to a spot on the map, returned the map while palming a small ziplock-like sealed bag containing a thumb drive.

The informant went off in the direction of the tour stop. Gary stayed where he was for about ten minutes more, checking his watch every couple of minutes as he pretended to be waiting for someone. He asked one man for the time so he could verify his watch was correct, and he asked another man for directions to a restaurant so he could have breakfast. Finally, he hailed a taxi, went back to the hotel where he picked up his bag, checked out, and took the waiting taxi to Heathrow where he caught his return flight.

When he got back to Dulles he was met by Melvin who debriefed him and took the thumb drive. It was then that he learned that his informant never made it back to the Russian Embassy where he worked. He was found unconscious on a rear seat of a redline tour bus and never regained consciousness. Early indications were that he died of the same poison that a Russian dissident died of a few years ago.

For a fleeting second Gary wondered if Sam had really died of cancer.

Naah, of course he died of cancer. It said so right there in the newspaper.