“Practical.”

She sliced the fruit in half. Took one half and sliced it again in two equally big parts. Then she took one of the quarters and cut it quickly into five triangles. Then she put each of the triangles on its side and cut the red flesh out, tossing the green rinds in the waste basket. The pulp triangles were also cut into cubes. She used her knife to scoop up the cubes and throw them into a large blue china bowl. The whole process took two minutes.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” Mark asked, watching the whole process in fascination 23 .

Lizzy smiled. “My mother learned that somewhere in Asia and always cut fruit that way. I guess I picked it up from her.”

“It’s fast,” Mark said and sat down at the table ready to eat.

***

The contact – a short bolding overweight man in his 50s – was waiting for them on the side of the road next to the gas station two kilometers away from the cottage. They walked to the meeting through the forest that Lizzy knew very well. She used to walk here with her mother when she was a little girl. It was a good day for a walk – sunny and warm. They saw him before he spotted them.

“Is that him?” Lizzy asked.

“I think so,” Mark said. “Fits the description.”

“Is there a code word or a sentence that we’re supposed to use to make sure he’s our guy?”

“He told me that we will know us when he sees us.”

“Not much of a spy, isn’t he?”

“Let’s do it then,” he said and took a step out of the forest thicket 24 .

As soon as they were in the clear, the man acknowledged them with a nod and started to walk to a grey minivan that parked near the gas station’s minimart’s entrance. He opened the driver’s door and the passenger’s door. Then he got in the driver’s seat, closed the door but left the passenger door open.

“I guess that’s our cue 25 ,” Mark said.

They walked to the van and climbed on the back.

“You’re to follow the instructions,” the man said as soon as they closed the door and gave them a large manila envelope. “There are two passports, the car keys, and some money.”

“We have a car,” Lizzy said.

“Not anymore,” the man said. “Our people are taking it from your cottage as we speak.”

“Why?” Mark asked.

“You’ve been seen driving it and the police has the number license.”

“Where’s our new ride then?”

“You are sitting in it,” the man said and opened his door.

“Wait,” Lizzy said. “Are you leaving? What’s your name?”

“You’re to follow the instructions,” the man said and left the car.

They watched him walking fast across the gas station and getting in a black pick-up truck – parked on the other side – which took off the second the man was in.

“That was some spy work right there,” Lizzy smiled.

Mark looked inside the envelope.

“Well, it’s all in there: the money, the passports, and the car keys.”

“Where are the instructions?”

Mark took out a white sheet of paper and looked at it. “I guess this is it.”

***

When they drove back to the cottage in their new car, their old car was gone. They entered the cottage and found a new laptop on the kitchen table and a brand-new iPhone with a charger.

“It says here that we need to turn on the computer. There will be a link to a Zoom meeting on the desktop,” Mark was reading from the piece of paper.

“Alright,” Lizzy said, opening the device. “We could’ve done it on the phone though.”

The computer screen lit up and they saw an empty desktop with only one folder named The Link.

“That’s foolproof 26 ,” Lizzy said with a smile.

She clicked on the folder and saw a link. She called it up on the screen. The software began to upload the Zoom meeting. The host had already started the meeting, but both his or her camera and microphone were deactivated.

Mark and Lizzy looked at the screen for a minute, waiting for something to happen.

“Are we supposed to do it now?” Lizzy asked, frowning at the screen.

Mark looked in the sheet again. “It just says open your computer and use the link.”

“Hello,” she said to the screen. “Anyone there?”

The host’s window showed that the image had started to upload. Someone was joining the meeting. Finally, the saw a pixelated image of an old black woman in a room with white empty walls. She was saying something, but there was no sound. Mark pointed to the screen, to microphone symbol that was crossed by a red line.