xp_logs | Training Day: Almeria

Gabe and Kevin reach their first destination, and Gabe discovers the full extent of what this trip entails.

Almeria wasn't what you'd call a huge tourist attraction. The Moor fortress of Alcazaba drew some history buffs and like any thousand year old city, it had a number of beautiful buildings, but it lacked the sandy beaches and cruise ports of other cities. It was mainly known for agriculture and the shipping of said produce from its large commercial port. Which is exactly why it was such an excellent spot for people like Kevin.

"Well established shipping lanes to North Africa. Most cargoes are both perishable and only valuable in bulk, making them terrible targets for pirates. And most of the corporate presence is regional, so site security is largely low and cheap. You're going to learn to love places like Almeria." Kevin explained, after their coffee had been delivered on the patio of a large cafe.

"Aha." Gabriel took a sip of his coffee. He snagged a packet of sugar off the table then hesitated, unsure what the norms were about coffee in Spain, and put it back. "Though, to be fair, I love most places where wine is cheap, and I can speak the language." His eyes drifted out toward the street. Tourist trap or not, Gabriel decided Almeria was beautiful. The advantage of being a naive traveler, he supposed, was seeing everything with some wonder in your eyes.

"So, okay. Agriculture, shipping, mostly locals. Wouldn't that make it harder for people like us to blend?"

"Not really. There's still almost two hundred thousand people here and port cities always have new people coming and going." Kevin swirled the coffee in his cup. "We're just checking in to reactivate the asset and picking up any intel. If we had a longer operation here, that would be a concern. Now, tell me what we're looking for." He prompted.

“We’re reactivating an old network,” Gabriel said. “Which you know, unless your mind is starting to go after all these years. So...” He closed his eyes, trying to think and focus. “We need to find your old contact, obviously. And otherwise keep an eye out for suspicious shit that might prove useful, I guess?”

"No. Always avoid mission creep. Unless it is unavoidable, keep your focus narrow, do what you came here to do, and get out. You see something, you pass it up the chain once you're done." It wasn't a rebuke, but Kevin's tone stressed the importance of the lesson. "Now, the contact is Oscar Molla. He knows he's been reactivated thanks to a specific bit of spam email he received. If he is still on the books, he knows to come here and sit at the far right table near the little cream service. Someone holding both their cup and the cream will ask him the time. If he's two minutes ahead, he's not only activated but knows that person is his handler."

"Got it." Gabriel nodded. "That's it? Two minutes?" He picked up his coffee cup. "You guys always use that code? I mean, two minutes is, a hiccup. That's, what, the time your watch is stopped when you need to replace a watch battery, right? That seems sort of... coincidental."

"It's meant to be mundane, but also not easily replicated accidentally." Kevin said, looking at his paper. "And Molla has just sat down. So, you know what to say to him."

"Me?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow and took another sip. This was new information. "Since when do I get to be a 'me' and not a 'we,' exactly?"

"Because Molla is going to be your asset. In fact, this entire network is going to be yours to run."

"What?" Gabriel's eyebrow lifted a bit more. "Mine?" He put the cup back down and crossed his arms. "Listen, I love a dramatic reveal as much as the next guy, but come on."

"You might have said no otherwise." Kevin smirked. "Look, Gabe, you're ready for this. This network is useful but also low priority. It is a good place for you to start to learn how to handle assets because, god knows, we need people who can do it and those who can are already stretched thin."

"Useful but low priority. Sounds like me." Not that Gabriel didn't get it. This was a minimal amount of responsibility — the right amount for someone with his track record, especially given the way things had generally for him over the last few years. "I take it the fact that I speak the language is an added bonus and not, like, a low-key microaggression."

"Let's say both." Kevin smirked. "Gabe, this is the next step in your career and even if it is low priority, it's not some joke. There is some risk, both to you and the assets you're going to be managing. Once you've settled in, we can start looking at the rest of our needs and add to your portfolio."

Gabriel frowned slightly. "I hate how corporate you're sounding right now," he said after a second. He was fully aware this was the exact kind of humor that Kevin had been warning him against, but he couldn't help it. "Especially the way you keep saying 'our' which really doesn't seem like you. But," he reached into his pocket for a box of cigarettes and a lighter, "I guess if we keep talking about this, we'll miss 'our' window." In a split-second, the cigarette was lit, and he was blowing smoke toward the street. "Wouldn't want to run low on time."

"There is a reason the CIA was called The Company." Kevin went back to his coffee as Gabe got up from the table. He had a view of him and the other table from a reflection in a shop window across the street to follow the exchange.

Coffee in hand, Gabriel made his way toward the cream. This was a simple task, all things considered, but he was still nervous. There was something about having Kevin being there, watching him and presumably judging every move, that made the stakes feel higher. He supposed that was part of the point, but even so, it surprised him much he wanted the older man's approval.

He grabbed the cream and headed to Molla's table. "Excuse me," he said in Spanish, trying to look casual without looking flirting casual. "But could you tell me the time?"

The man looked at his watch, an older analog time piece. "2:14." He said with a nod and went back to his own paper.

“Ah, thank you. I just arrived from New York, and my clock is a bit off,” Gabriel said a little apologetically. This attempt to seem casual, he realized almost immediately, would have been more successful had Gabriel actually been wearing a watch. He filed away the note for next time.

In an effort to move past the obvious blunder, he set the cream down. “Mr. Molla?” He took a seat. “I’m the one your waiting for. Gabriel Cohuelo.”

"Mr. Cohuelo." He said, filing the information away. "I assume our old routines will suffice? It has been several years."

"Too long, probably. For that we apologize," Gabriel said, because it seemed courteous. The vagueness of the royal we had its benefits, apparently. "The old ways are fine," he added. "Far be it from me to interfere with a system that works. Assuming, of course, that it works for you." He, of course, had no idea what the old routines were.

"You can deposit my stipend in the same account. Good day, Mister Cohuelo."

"A pleasure." Gabriel nodded, but in a casual way, because he was trying to maintain an air of cool indifference. He stood. "We'll be in touch."