It was amazing how naked one could feel, while being fully clothed. I had come to rely on my glasses to keep me in contact with Galatea allowing her to give me real-time information and warnings that cropped up, but now I had to do without them. I also had to do without most of my other gear, the only things I had on me were a pepper spray armlet and an old burner-phone. Well, and a boot-knife. Everything else on me, was simply mundane clothing, from the sunglasses to the boots.

I had spent the previous thirty minutes canvassing the area and making sure that there was no ambush, mostly because it was part of my role. There were still ten minutes left until the appointed time with Joy and Sandra, but I had decided that someone trained by a professional paranoid would be there a lot earlier and check everything out. Such training would provide an excellent explanation for my skills and I was planning to hint at a father who was in a sensitive, read intelligence, position and had trained me to take care of myself.

Maybe five minutes before the appointed time, I walked into the coffee-shop and got a table. Obviously, a corner-table, far from other patrons that allowed me to sit on a chair, with my back against the wall and in privacy. Nobody with security training would be caught either with their back to the room or stuck in the middle of a bench-seat.

I had to hide a smile when I saw their disclaimer. It was unlikely that it had any true legally binding power, but simply a sign saying that the establishment was not responsible for any physical problems suffered due to drinking the ‘Bitchslap’-beverage was an interesting idea. And a necessary one. What they called the ‘Bitchslap’ was basically an espresso, only that a normal espresso was served in a small, maybe 40ml cup and they served their Bitchslap in a 350ml mug. Topped with a sugary foam, made from, sugar and more espresso. So, tons of sugar and caffeine, the perfect mixture to trigger heart palpitations.

Just when I told a friendly barrista that I would order once my company arrived, Joy and Sandra walked in.

“Hi Joy. How are you?” I asked her, while pulling a surprised Joy into a hug. My overtly presented personality was a bubbly, slightly airheaded teenager. Completely over the top, as if the one below it was actively trying to present it.

“Hello Cat. Meet one of my oldest friends, Sandra. San, meet Cat.” She was slightly bewildered by my enthusiastic greeting. But I was not done yet.

“Hi Sandra, may I call you San? It’s a joy to meet you.” I bubbled, while pulling her into a hug as well. “Let’s order and sit.” I moved towards the counter, pulling them into my pace as I went. Sandra had not yet managed to get in more than a greeting.

I quickly ordered some sort of heretical concoction that only a witch could have come up with, desecrating good coffee with caramel-syrup, sugar and soy-milk, but make it half fat, or some utter stupidity like that, something sweet enough to make one's teeth rot and fall out, simply because it fit with my overt role. The barrista’s disgusted look made it clear what she thought about my choice in beverage.

We all went to the table I had claimed and I sat, making sure that I was ‘covertly’ scanning the room with my eyes from time to time. I even took a quick-test for date-rape drugs, trying to make sure that neither of them noticed.

“So, Joy, have you broken up with your boyfriend and are now going out with Heather? The two of you looked so cute together.” I asked as an opening shot and instantly put my hand in front of my mouth, as if I had blurted something out, while looking apprehensively at Sandra. I was rewarded with a stunned Joy and a surprised Sandra. Part of my plan was to use Joy to distract Sandra and it seemed to be working.

“Wha? How do you know about Steve?!” Joy blurted out.

Now, it was my turn to act surprised. “You must have told me, Friday.” I said, trying to play it off. It was part of a third role, what was supposed to be my true being, shining through the intelligence training.

Luckily, Sandra was interested enough in that topic that she jumped in. “Ararara, now that is interesting, indeed. You say that Joy and Heather looked cute together?” Sandra asked with a grin.

“Totally, they’re, like, such a cute couple don’t you think? And when they danced tight, they looked seriously hot.” I said, managing to keep myself from cringing at my language.

Sandra focused on Joy, interested in her friends reaction. Who tried to deflect.

“No. That’s not what I wanted to talk about.” she blurted out in a panic.

“What did ya want to talk about on this joyous day?” I asked, still with a bright smile on my face.

“After we left, the attack, I want you to add your statement to mine.” She said, slowly getting her bearings back.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said, forcing my voice to stay friendly and bright, but glared at her to shut her up.

“Don’t worry, Sandra is reliable. She has always saved me, she’s my hero, you know?” She said, trying to make a joke for Sandra, that I would not understand.

“That’s wonderful for you. But I don’t know her, and I know that I’d be in trouble with dad if he got wind what I’d been doing Friday. And even more if he knew with whom.” For a moment, I let the bubbly facade drop, putting steel into my voice and pinning Joy with a glare that would have peeled paint at a hundred meters.

Sandra put her hand on Joy’s arm, in a soothing and supporting gesture. “That’s fine. But, Joy, you never answered the question about Heather and Steve.”

I put my bubbly facade back up and chimed in. “Totally. You should pick Heather, you know. Or do you want to have your beefcake and eat it?” I asked, with a wicked grin. I had seen pictures of Steve on their social media and while beefcake was not really fitting, it got my point across, causing Sandra to snort in laughter. That laughter exploded when I added, “Or is that ‘and eat her’?”

By now, Joy seemed to be sending distress signals into orbit via facial heat, her blush was certainly strong enough that they could see the glow from up high.

“We should have mercy on Joy. Even if it’s enJoyable to tease her.” I added.

“You think so? Really? Are you sure? I’m having fun.” Sandra asked, gleefully. “But then, I’ve been teased for years for my lack of dating time. But without time, there is no dating time, you know?”

“Not really, no. But I think I can imagine.” I admitted.

We continued to gossip, I let small tidbits flow in hinting at my knowledge of Joy’s social life, but never being as blatant as I had been in the beginning. After a while, I decided that I had fulfilled my goal and told the other two that I was leaving.

On the way out, I could not resist getting another drink, this one to go. And, to the barrista’s amusement, I ordered a black coffee, plain and simple. But before I could leave, Sandra intercepted me.

“Just so you know, Joy is a personal friend.” she said, stressing the personal.

“I guessed as much. Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“I would like that, even if it is only to tease Joy. Would you mind trading numbers? Having intelligent friends is sometimes useful.”

“We can do that. From time to time, heroics can be shockingly useful, when intelligence fails.” I admitted, giving her a contact number that was rerouted often enough to make it untraceable.

Back in my bunker, Galatea immediately started playing back the conversation after I had left. It was enlightening.

“That was interesting.” Sandra said, with a sigh.

“She seemed a little strange. Too cheerful. Why didn’t you try to get her to join the statement? You two only picked on me.” Joy complained.

“Because it would have been pointless. The cheerfulness, that was a mask. I’d almost bet that her father, or maybe her mother, is some sort of intelligence or counterintelligence and he has trained her well. Have you noticed how she dropped the cheerful act the moment you brought up the statement? Trying to press her would have backfired in a major way. The way I played it, you have someone else watching out for you.”

“What do you mean?” Joy asked, confused.

“When she left, we exchanged numbers and a few, veiled statements. If she notices something regarding you, she’ll tell me. Call it professional courtesy.”

“Why tell you? She doesn’t know about that, does she?”

“She knows. I’d bet that she researched you down to your bra-size before ever stepping into the vicinity of the shop today. And probably all your friends as well. Intelligence-people are notoriously paranoid. So, your clever quip about me, being your hero? Not so clever.”

“Oh…”

The recording continued a little longer, but nothing of substance was exchanged. It had worked quite well, there was a possibility to exchange favours between Sandra and me. She just had the wrong idea about whom I worked with. And I would not correct her thinking.