“Americans are suspicious of everything,” Hans told Lena a week later. “But they must not be suspicious of you.”
They were walking down State Street in the Loop on a crisp Saturday morning in April. It was still early, and the sun slanted through the buildings and bounced off shop windows in a cheerful display of light. “You must always be aware of your surroundings, the environment, and the people. Be alert for someone or something that could compromise your security. It might be quite small and inconsequential, and it will probably be the one thing that doesn’t belong.” He stopped. “For example, what color was the dress of the woman who just passed us?”
Hans had a fast stride, and Lena was concentrating on keeping pace with him. She had no idea about the dress. “I don’t know,” she said.
“Turn around.”
She did. The dress was powder blue. She turned back.
“What about her shoes?”
Lena’s spirits sank. It was one thing to make sure she didn’t bump into people as they hurried down the street. It was quite another to remember what shoes they were wearing.
“They were black,” he said. “Was she wearing perfume?”
Lena shrugged.
As if reading her mind, he went on. “She was. But do not worry. It will come. The point is, you must not do anything to raise an alarm… to make people think their security is at stake. But your security is critical. If it seems too much of a risk, if you think someone is tailing you, abort the mission. Figure out how to accomplish it a different way.”
Hans had been training Lena for five days. Despite the fact it was hard to leave Max, she had worked with Hans every evening after work and now today. He had divided her education into subjects. Today was surveillance. He was teaching her how to tell if she was being followed, and if so, how to lose the tail. He was also showing her how to tail someone else, although he admitted she likely wouldn’t have much use for it. Her primary activity was simply to supply information about the research and development going on at Met Lab. Still, he said, she should be familiar with basic techniques.
They had already discussed communication. She would buy a flowerpot for her windowsill, he said, and move it from one side to the other to signal a meet or indicate something was in the dead drop. He also taught her to watch for signals from him. How to follow chalk marks, bottle caps, orange peels, or tacks affixed to telephone poles. He pointed out two dead drops both within a block of her apartment, where she would leave rolls of film and documents. She was surprised she’d never noticed them before; then again, that was the point. He taught her how to spot a classified ad in the newspaper that was really a coded message and how to decrypt it. Her brain was swimming.
“And those are just the simple methods,” he’d reminded her.
The next area they needed to discuss, he said, as they continued down State, were tools. “You will clearly need a camera so you can take pictures of the set up as well as documents.”
Lena frowned. “But how—”
He cut her off. “Of course we would prefer the actual documents, but we know in your case that will not be possible. Photos will suffice. You will leave a roll of film in the dead drop every time you have something.”
“What if I’m not able to take photos?”
“You will find a way. Work late. Come in early.”
“Everyone already does.”
“Then go in earlier. Stay later. Go in on a weekend.”
“And how am I supposed to get the film out of the office?”
He waved a hand. “Your purse. A briefcase. You will figure it out.”
“I don’t carry a briefcase. It would look pretentious if I began.”
“Improvise. A grocery bag. Your coat pockets. Here.” He stopped walking, pulled out his wallet, and peeled off a twenty. “Go into Marshall Fields and buy a new bag. A big one.”
Lena didn’t miss a beat. “And the camera?”
He laughed. “You learn quickly. We will supply it. Go into the store. I will wait.”
They were standing under the clock at State and Randolph. She headed towards the store entrance. Then she turned around and came back. “What about a gun?”
“A gun? For you?”
She nodded.
“No gun.”
She spun around and went into Fields.