The Velvet lounge

The Velvet lounge

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi

An excerpt

The shrill phone rings caused Scot Finlay to wake up with a start. He sent his hand to the phone receiver on the dresser beside his bed, and picked it up.

'Hello who is it?' He mumbled half asleep yet, and glanced at his wrist watch, while listening to the unfamiliar feminine voice.

'Could you repeat your message please?' He asked her, he could not believe that the meeting is going to take place in some bar, and not in the agency's special division office.

'You're expected to arrive at the Velvet Lounge at eleven forty five am tomorrow.' She repeated her message and hung up. He switched on the night lamp in his darkened bed room, and had another glimpse at his wrist watch; the time was two fifteen pm. I'd better get up despite the jet lag, but I've rested enough and I'm hungry. He decided while his last's long flight home from Moscow was still embedded vividly in his mind.

On the next day at eleven forty five plus minus Scot entered the Velvet Lounge, and perceived his division's head and his deputy sitting next to one of the farthest tables near the wide hall's left corner. There were just a few guests present in the bar except his elated superiors at that early Monday hour, and a broad vacant space separated his superiors’ table and the rest of the restaurant's guests. His adored boss asked him to join their table with a forced smile. It surprised Scot that expected a more pleasant welcome from the man that treated Scot as if he was his young brother; he had no such expectations from the boss deputy, whom he did not trust from the very first moment that he set his eyes on him.

'Well how was your flight back?' Ray Thurston his adored boss asked him.

'It was okay without any problems.' Scot replied surprised, he did not expect such an opening from his rather practical boss. Morgan the deputy summoned a waiter while Scot was still in mid of his short reply, and when the waiter reached their table Morgan ordered for the three of them.

'I see and your stay over there was without any particular problems I understand.' Thurston remarked with an obvious note of sarcasm, which alarmed Scot.

'I was followed right after I landed and they turned into open surveillance during the last couple of weeks… Jeff my operator ordered me to return without delay, when we met the day before yesterday.' Thurston exchanged a quick glance with Morgan; as if he was saying you're right we've the confirmed evidence.

So Jeff is Morgan's man, and my enigmatic mission in Moscow was under Morgan's responsibility. Scot reached the apprehended conclusion with a quick thought.

With the main course over and at the meal's end in fact, Thurston looked straight into Scot's eyes, and said: 'You're on leave from now on, up to the end of the month. We'd budget's cuts off and your project is canceled, so from the end of next month you'll have to resume your career somewhere else.'

'I'm fired then,' Scot raised his voice with disbelief.

'Haven't you heard what I've told you? The agency had just recently budget cuts off, and we've to give up your services and that's all. You'll get your Salary for the next six months plus the compensation due to your resignation, and you're free to go now.' Thurston summed up the meeting up with his usual authoritative voice.

A shade of a smile appeared on Morgan's lips, as he kept watching Scot's reactions. It took the shocked Scot several seconds, before he stood up and left their superiors' company without a word.

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