Spy vs. Spy

[Tony2015]

Spy vs. Spy

NOTE:​

This role play needs a female writer.
If you are interested, please PM me first.​

When the young woman in the café booth looks up from her magazine, I smile and continue, "Remember the old Mad Magazine comic...? The two spies, one all in black, one all in white...?"

I am unsure whether her expression stems from her not recalling the comical espionage comic born in the early 1960s -- long before her own birth -- or because she doesn't understand why a stranger would walk up to her during her lunch break and out of the blue ask her about it.

Of course, that expression could stem from the fact that -- unknown to any but her closest friends and family members -- she works as a liaison for the Central Intelligence Agency. And this stranger stepping up and talking about spies -- albeit cartoon ones -- is a little unsettling.

Without asking permission, I take a seat across from her in her booth, gesture the waitress for a cup of coffee, then -- in a low voice meant only for her -- immediately explain, "Listen. Don't talk. I am from Directorate S."

I know she's heard of my agency. I can see it in her eyes. I also know that she probably thinks I'm just an unknown CIA agent, having fun with her. Directorate S is thought by most people to be a fallacy ... a ghost story ... a tale told to new Spooks -- excuse the pun -- to scare them.

The Cold War Soviet Program had been designed to infiltrate all areas of life within the United States with Soviet spies who looked, spoke, and acted more like Americans than Americans themselves. During the Reagan years, one quarter of the CIA's man power and resources had been dedicated solely to uncovering and capturing DS agents. And while many a spy -- and even whole networks -- had been brought down, there had never been any proof found of a super secret American-infiltration program.

I pull a tiny digital tape recorder out of my jacket pocket and set it on the table before her. I click it to activate the recording, then begin my introduction.

"My name is Mark Taylor. My parents were Robert and Elizabeth Taylor. At least ... those were the names they used for the 35 years in which they lived in the United States ... as KGB, and later FSB agents."

I give her a moment to decide whether or not I'm still pulling her leg, then continue. "Recently, my parents went missing, as did my sister and brother. I believe that an element of the FSB has taken them ... possibly even killed them. I need to find them, dead or alive. I need help ... help from your CIA."

I see the change in her expression, albeit very slight, and smile politely. "Yes. I know who you are and what you do, and that is why I am offering my services to you. You help me find the truth behind my family's disappearance ... and I will give you information on Directorate S ... information ... that will cause your career to spring forward like a jack rabbit on steroids."

I reach up, click off the tape recorder, and push it toward her, indicating that I intend for her to keep it. "With the information I just gave you, you should be able to verify the information I just gave you concerning the sudden and unexplained disappearance of my family. Once you have verified that information, call this number--" I slide a folded piece of paper across to her. "--and I will give you a place and time to meet."

I start to rise, then pause. In a quieter voice, I warn, "My friend is across the street, listening to our conversation ... watching us through a rifle scope."

I reach to the coffee cup sitting in front of her, tapping a finger on it. A bright light from a laser guided rifle scope begins reflecting off the mug, diffused a bit by the glass of the big window at which we are sitting.

"If you stand and follow me," I continued, "my friend will begin shooting people in the café. He won't bother with you. He'll go for the waitress standing behind the register--" The laser point lifts, settling on the back of the waitress's shoulder. "Then the toddler sitting in the booth behind me." Again, the point of red shifts, coming to rest on the chest of the toddler, who detects it and begins trying to grab it as if it was a lady bug trying to find a place to land.

I rise, smile politely, and pull out a twenty dollar bill. I set it atop the breakfast check, then -- very conspicuously -- press my thumb upon the paper to ensure that my print is there to be analyzed. Again I smile ... before simply turning and walking out of the café.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Looking for a female writer interested in a lot of story that includes a little, belated sex. The basic story is pretty well explained above: he needs to know what happened to his family, and in return he will help her bring down the Russian agency he suspects is responsible for their disappearance.

BTW, the inspiration for this role play is the television program "The Americans", which is about KGB spies who appear like regular every day Americans. It takes place during the 1980s, making this role play about the children of those sleeper agents.

PM me if you are interested. The first many posts will be about establishing the relationship between the two characters; and, ultimately, there will be sex between the pair of them. If you are interested in sex scenes up front, we can also create two secondary characters -- his and her respective lovers -- and involve them as well.