The Woman in the Diner

Mike was on his third cup of coffee and four chapters into his book when the woman walked into the diner. She wasn’t hard to spot; as it was a little after eleven, it was too late for breakfast, but not quite early enough for the lunch rush. This particular woman would’ve drawn eyes regardless of the crowd. She looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties, thin, long blonde hair, wearing nothing but a short blue dress underneath her coat. Most of the men in the diner were transfixed from the moment she walked in. Not Mike, though. He had been waiting for this particular woman all morning, but now that she had arrived, he steadfastly avoided even a glance in her direction.

The woman ignored him as well, walking right past his table on her way to a seat at the counter. She spared a few quick smiles for some of the other patrons though, not enough to look like she was blatantly flirting, but just enough to encourage their continued interest. Mike was doing his best to be inconspicuous, but they both knew that the more everyone noticed her, the less attention they’d give the guy sitting in the corner booth in the back. She had barely settled into her seat before the teenage waiter was at her side, with a menu and a glass of water. She accepted the water gratefully, and glanced at the menu for only a few seconds before handing it back. The waiter, looking a tad disappointed to have had such a short interaction, was just as quickly headed back to the kitchen.

Sitting back in his seat, Mike placed his book on the table and finally allowed himself to watch the woman. More specifically, he was watching for what she had ordered. This diner was known for its desserts, and it wasn’t unusual for customers to come in just to satisfy a sweet tooth craving. Knowing this, they’d planned ahead of time that she would order a dessert-no one would find that suspicious. But what had she ordered? Please, Mike prayed, let it be the cherry pie. Nothing would make him happier than to see the waiter walk out with a slice of cherry pie. Cherry pie meant everything was okay, and nothing needed to happen. But if she’d ordered the chocolate cake…well, hopefully, she wouldn’t get the cake. Mike took a deep breath, trying to keep himself looking relaxed and composed, as he waited for the waiter to return.

It didn’t take long. The desserts were already baked, so the waiter needed only to cut a slice, put it on a plate, and maybe add a little whipped cream. The diner’s triple chocolate cake was three layers of moist, decadent cake with a smooth milk chocolate mousse layered in between, all covered with the diner’s famous homemade buttercream and chocolate chips sprinkled over the top. Normally, the delicious concoction was enough to tempt even the strictest of health nuts. This morning, though, watching the waiter bring out that plate of chocolatey goodness and place it in front of the woman, all Mike felt was a pit in his stomach. Chocolate cake meant everything was confirmed. They were clear to proceed with the plan. Oh well, he thought to himself, it’s no good worrying about it now. Time to move.

He tossed his book into his backpack, did a quick sweep of the booth to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, and tossed a few bills on the table to pay for his coffee. He walked out of the diner, and made his way north. As he walked, he pulled out his cell phone, and typed out a quick email. “Hey friends! We’re good to go for the game Tuesday. Look forward to seeing everyone there.” Innocent-looking enough for anyone who might read the message, but Mike still wanted to be cautious. He saved the email as a draft, ensuring no one would be able to intercept the message. Everyone else on the team had access to the same shared mailbox, and they would be able to read the message there, and know that the plan was in motion.

Once he’d made his way four blocks north, Mike turned and entered a used bookstore. It was a cozy, quaint little shop, the kind of place that, even operating in a city like this, would be unlikely to have any security cameras. There were only two other customers: a young man in a red polo and khakis who was trying to appear as cool and nonchalant as possible while perusing the Dating and Relationships books; and a tall, athletic black man in a gray t-shirt and jeans, who didn’t even look up when Mike entered. Mike casually made his way to the back of store and stopped at the Thriller section. He flipped through several of the books on the shelf before slowly pulling the book out of his backpack. The list was still safely tucked into the pages, right at the start of the first chapter. Written on the list were the names of seven targets, along with photos and short biographies, everything the strike team would need for identification. Mike placed the book on the far-right edge of the bottom shelf, and bent back the corner of the front cover. It was just enough to make it obvious which book he’d placed, but nothing you’d notice if you weren’t looking. To detour suspicion, he grabbed another random book from the shelf to buy. As he approached the cash register, he saw the tall black man turn and walk back towards the Thrillers. Mike allowed himself a quick glance to make sure the man grabbed the right book. The man gave Mike a brief nod as he returned, indicating his possession of the List. The information would be disseminated to the rest of the strike team, and they would do what they did best. Mike finished paying and walked the four blocks back towards the diner. He opened the door of a white sedan parked on the street and slid into the driver’s seat. The woman from the diner was already waiting in the passenger seat.

“Hey there”, he said, in what he hoped was a relaxed manner. “Fancy meeting you here.”

She looked back at him, fear and anxiousness etched across her face. Clearly joking was not going to put her at ease. “You said you’d get me out”, she whispered.

“I am going to get you out.”

“I did everything you asked”, she said, almost accusingly. “I got you everything you asked for. Now it’s your turn. You said you’d get me out of here. Well, I’m ready to go.” The desperation in her voice mirrored what Mike saw in her facial expressions and body language. She knew what was coming, what was going to happen to her boyfriend and his associates, and she knew what that meant for her if anyone ever realized she was the mole.

“Don’t worry”, Mike reassured her. “I’m gonna hold up my end of the bargain. I’ve got a contact who’s got a new identity already prepared for you. He’ll just need to get your photo to put on the documents. There’s a safehouse set up for you up north, a bank account with $20000 to get you started, and a bus ticket leaving the city this evening.”

She exhaled in relief. “Thank you. You have no idea what this means for me.”

Mike’s phone buzzed. “One second”, he said, pulling the phone out of his pocket. It was a reply to email he’d saved earlier, from his boss. “I can’t wait! I’ll be bringing my famous taco dip-I know you’re gonna kill it like you did last time.”

Mike’s heart froze in his chest. It didn’t really surprise him to see the message, but he’d had been hoping it wouldn’t come to this. He looked glanced back at the woman. She was so young and full of promise. When Mike had first made contact a few months ago, he’d been struck by her beauty, yes, but also her brains and her charm and her confidence. And she’d shown incredible bravery in getting him the information that he needed. He wanted nothing more than to keep his promise, to get her out of the city and help her start fresh. But the team couldn’t afford any loose ends. “I know you’re gonna kill it.” Damn.

He started up the car. “We’re meeting the identity guy at his farm property. It’s about an hour and a half outside of the city. He’ll get you set up there.”

She nodded, and gave a nervous smile. She had a small chocolate stain on her front tooth. “How’d you like the cake?” he asked. Her smile morphed into a genuine grin. “It may have been the most amazing dessert I’ve ever had.”

“That’s good to hear”, Mike replied, as he pulled into the street and headed towards the interstate. It was good, he thought. At least she got to enjoy a last meal.