The first thing de Payns noticed about Raven when she walked into the cafe was that she’d just had her hair and nails done. He could smell all the product from the salon, and her dark hair was big and piled up on top of her head, exposing her neck and giving him a look at the small silver hoops in her ears. She wasn’t his type, but she dressed for what she had.
‘Hi, Sébastien,’ she said, smiling brightly. She gave him the French greeting of a hug and double kiss.
They made small talk as she handed over the sample translations he’d asked her to prepare.
‘It’s not like I can check them,’ said de Payns, chuckling, but noticing her translations were both in the European alphabet and Urdu script. ‘Did you have any trouble with the material?’
‘No, it’s not too bad,’ she said, putting a napkin on her lap. ‘When I hit a word I don’t fully understand, I search it.’
De Payns smiled and pushed an envelope across the table.
‘What’s that?’ she asked, eyebrows raised.
‘Your payment, one thousand euro,’ said de Payns. ‘It was easier to do it in cash. Please count it.’
She extracted the notes and fanned them, and somewhere through the western window of the cafe, one of Templar’s team was recording the entire transaction on HD video.
‘It’s nice to be paid so quickly,’ she said. ‘Government clients make me wait sixty days.’
They ordered and de Payns started what he hoped would be a fruitful escalation. ‘Once we get some of these foundation documents done, and printed and uploaded, I have something more specific for you.’
‘Yes?’ she replied.
He handed over the next level of translations that had been given to him at the Bunker. ‘The pharmaceuticals side of this business is well developed as a channel, and I know exactly who we have to target and service,’ said de Payns. ‘But the agricultural side—the biotech and agritech and chemicals research—is more diffuse.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Diffuse?’
‘You know, not defined, not concentrated?’
‘All over the place?’ she suggested, smiling.
‘I should just speak in plain French,’ he said, and explained that the supplies and machinery his clients wanted to push in the Middle East did not always have a central market, because the R&D groups were tucked away in facilities and campuses attached to universities and government departments, and it was hard to market to such a diffuse group of people.
Anoush nodded, indicating that she understood the problem. But she gave up nothing.
‘We might have a research facility on our list of potential clients, but are they developing pesticides, or herbicides, or GMO crops or fertilisers? Or are they working on vaccines for chickens or better yields for dairy cows?’
Anoush shrugged. ‘Could be anything.’
De Payns changed the topic to a man outside the window—he was allowing his dog to urinate on a chained bike.
‘That’s very nice of him,’ said de Payns, winking. ‘I bet he wouldn’t allow that if it was his bike. This man could be Parisian!’
She laughed and agreed, and as the laughter died down, she asked, ‘So which research facilities are we talking about?’
De Payns kept it casual and listed four, in Saudi Arabia, Iraq and Kuwait. Then he said, ‘We can’t forget your country. Pakistan has some of the best scientists in the Middle East.’ De Payns watched her face.
‘I don’t know much about that,’ she said.
The food arrived and de Payns shifted the conversation to personal topics. He asked about her kids, and allowed her to skirt around her husband without stating that they were estranged. By the time they were on to coffees, de Payns went for the social escalation. ‘I’m in Mons for a couple of days this time. What does a visitor do around here?’
She looked down at her coffee and then addressed him with a hopeful smile. ‘Perhaps I could show you?’
‘Sure,’ said de Payns, showing all his teeth. ‘Let’s do something.’