Rendezvous
July 7, 2008 Pace University, Manhattan University Library 1628 hours Sark looked at his watch as the well-dressed man came up the stairs and into the library. "Two minutes early, Mr. Price. How prompt. I hope you have some information for me." Price looked jittery as always. Sark had often wondered if perhaps he drank too much coffee or if that was just his personality. "Good afternoon, Mr. Lazarey. Uh, yes I have that information for you." "Oh good. I do like it when things go my way. If you could be so kind as to hand it over and we can conclude our business." Price moved forward, fishing an envelope out of his satchel and handing it to Sark. Sark accepted the envelope, opening it and pulling out a handful of papers. Giving it a quick glance over, he nodded approvingly. "Excellent work. This is just the information I needed." Sark paused, looking at Price. The man seemed more nervous than he usually was. Sark wondered if there was something going on. "Is everything alright, Mr. Price? You seem somewhat more on edge than usual." "Hmm? Oh, yes. Everything is fine. Just…this weather, you know." "Mmm, yes. I suppose a suit jacket is quite comfortable in an air-conditioned office building." "Heh heh, yes, quite." "Well, if our business here is concluded, I bid you farewell, until our next meeting." "Uh, yes indeed. So long Mr. Sark." Sark had begun to leave, but stopped when he heard Price use his real name. How had they found out? Confusion soon changed to annoyance at having been played. "Is something wrong, Mr. Sark? I must say, you aren't an easy man to track down when you don't want to be found. It was most – " Sark turned quickly, drawing a handgun and firing at Price. He saw the man in the suit go down and began to run. He got almost to the door when he ran face-first into a very large elbow. He was soon picked up roughly by the large man attached to the large elbow and held up against the wall. Price came hobbling over to him; the bullet wound in his thigh would be painful but not debilitating. Pity. "My name is Gray Wellman. I work for the Security Intelligence Agency. Congratulations, Mr. Sark. You've just been recruited." Sark grimaced from both the pain and the evident sarcasm in the other Brit's voice. "I hope you have a good medical plan, Mr. Wellman. I think your friend here may have broken my nose." Gray would have smiled had he not had a bullet wedged in his upper leg. "Tomko, please escort Mr. Sark to the van. He has an appointment to keep." Return