Passport - Part Five by Dave Rigby

It was her first time in Budapest, or any other Eastern European city for that matter. Stanley had advised her where to stay and given her details of how to make contact with KT. The hotel was in Buda, five stars. She was already spending the money she was yet to receive for the bureau.
   It took her two attempts to get through. KT was deep-voiced and luckily spoke good English. He confirmed the location of their rendezvous. In the taxi, she was surprised by her complete lack of nerves. From what Stanley had said, her father had led at least two lives and here she was about to dive into one of them. He’d briefed her on what to say, what to ask and what not to say. And it had felt perfectly natural taking all this on board. She was a florist, albeit an upmarket one, and yet here she was in a Hungarian taxi slowly moving through morning rush hour traffic to meet a man Stanley had described as a spy.

   The goulash in the small local restaurant the previous evening hadn’t been an adventurous choice, but with a bottle of Bulls Blood it had gone down very well. Jack was already getting a taste for the city.

   The taxi driver, unsure about the exact location of the rendezvous, had to stop a couple of times to ask directions, but eventually he pulled up outside what sounded like a dog refuge. Jack paid him and stood, puzzled, on the pavement. A tall man, in his late 50s, she judged, emerged from the entrance to the long low building from which a hundred different barks were emerging.

   “KT?" she asked. 

   “No, I’m sorry. He’s not available. My name’s Viktor. You need to come with me.” It sounded more like an order than a request and for the first time she felt unsettled. Still it was broad daylight, she was in the middle of a European capital and she had her mobile. She could call for help if needs be.

   He led her to a large BMW.

   “Where are we going?” she asked.

   “We’re going to meet your mother,” Viktor replied as they crossed the bridge over the Danube.