Tom has only been in the service for a few years.He can’t remember why he joined, to make the world a better place, to change things, a quest possibly, but he is sure of the rudderless feeling in his stomach. The clock is ticking and the traffic is not moving. He could take the quai down by the Seine but if a tourist bus is parking the time saved will quickly become time lost. He opts to cut through Place de la Concorde, by the American Consulate, Collette and then the Louvre des Antiquaires. A left turn towards the Place Vendome and Tom feels the excitement of a new mission and the anxiety of the unknown. He asks himself as he puts his padlock on his scooter will this first mission be his last mission? Dressed not as bad as a spoof, but feeling a bit too cheap for the Ritz, he arranges his tie, cleans his shoes with a swipe on the back of his pants, and puts on an extra layer of attitude as he approaches the fancy entrance.
As the spinning door grows closer Tom thinks back to the Acadamy and reminds himself of the lessons he struggled so hard to learn. Never use your real name, always act with confidence, never reveal your sources, even under torture, and most importantly don’t try to squeeze more than one person into revolving doors. The last lesson came to Tom a bit too late, he was already spiralling with an older female client of the Ritz and her two-inch too tiny dog. With the dog barking, the old lady appalled, and Tom feeling a little motion sick they stumble out of the door into the lobby. All the training in the world could not have prepared small town Tom for the lobby of the Ritz, Paris. Sparkling creams of gold, brass, and crystal mixed with antique furniture and the air of history enveloped the young man as he tried to regain his stomach and confidence. Without a clue of which direction to take he headed for the longest hallway and proceeded head held high, helmet in one hand, and unknowingly cleaning the floor with his dragging coat in the other hand. Read More…