The Briefcase

            Vick’s thumb flicked across the combination keys on the brown leather briefcase, scrambling the numbers with each stroke. He watched the hotel room door from the balcony. A haze of cigar smoke drifted around him.

In the distance church bells rang. Twelve o’clock. Vick glanced at the pistol concealed behind the briefcase. Five minutes passed, then ten. Vick stiffened and sat upright in his chair as a key rattled in the door’s lock. He placed his right hand on the pistol’s grip, finger straight alongside the trigger well. The door opened.

A tall man in a slim fit suit stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the bright fluorescent light of the hall. The man nodded to two other men with him. They took their posts on either side of the door.

“You’re late,” Vick said.

“Apologies. My previous engagement took longer than expected,” the man said.

“Whatever. You Dimitri?” Vick asked.

“Da. You brought what was promised?” Dimitri asked.

“Got the case. Don’t imagine you’re gonna tell me what’s inside?” Vick said as he exhaled another puff of smoke and placed the gun on his thigh under the table.

A condescending smile tugged at the corners of Dimitri’s mouth. He took a seat across from Vick. “How could I be sure of its contents without you seeing?” Dimitri said as he laid the briefcase down, turning it so the combination lock faced him. He deftly rotated the tumblers. “Two up, three down, one up, six down,” he said under his breath. He pressed the button to release the clasps, but it stayed put. Dimitri frowned, and his eyes darted to meet Vick’s.

“Some sort of problem?”

“You moved the tumblers.”

“Was I not supposed to?” Vick asked. He tapped his cigar twice, and then once more.

Dimitri looked around and panic filled his eyes. “No, you were instructed deliver it exactly as it was given to you.”

“Was I? Don’t seem to recall.”

Dimitri stood, reaching behind his back.

Vick pulled his pistol, aiming at Dimitri’s head. “Why don’t you take your seat Mr. Romanov,” he said, a smile creeping across his lips. On the other side of the hotel room’s door two gunshots rang out, followed by two muffled thuds.

Dimitri flinched at the sound of the shots and raised his hands to either side. He sat down and said, “How did you find us?”

“We’ve got our methods,” Vick said. He spun the briefcase around to face him as he took a puff from the cigar hanging from his mouth. “What was it you said? ‘Two up, three down, one up, six down.’”

The latches to the briefcase sprung open revealing another, smaller briefcase inside. “You son of a bitch, no wonder the Kremlin sent you.” Vick opened the second briefcase only to reveal a third briefcase, then a fourth, and a fifth.

“Goddamn, you really thought of everything didn’t you?” Vick said as he placed his cigar on an ash tray. His brow furrowed, sweat dripped from his nose as he opened the final briefcase. An oversized flash drive was nestled in the case. Vick pulled out the USB stick and slid it open. A normal size flash drive emerged from the opening.

“I see the techs at the Kremlin haven’t been slacking off.”

“We have the best engineers in the world, agent. You could not hope to get past their encryption,” Dimitri said.

“We’ll see about that,” Vick said as he snapped his fingers.

Another agent in a black suit stepped into the hotel room and handed Vick a laptop. Vick opened it and plugged the drive in. A window opened with a single file: normaldocuments.zip. “You might have fooled a greener agent, but you ain’t gonna fool me,” Vick said through a smile. He double clicked the file. It opened to reveal another file: grandmascookiesnotspythings.zip.

“Ready to give up yet agent?” Dimitri asked.

“You’re slick, but not that slick,” Vick said as he opened the file. Two documents appeared: grandmascookies.doc and nothingtodowiththefbi.zip.

Dimitri smiled and said, “You see agent, nothing of use to you is on the drive.”

Vick scowled. “You win this one Romanov. Pack it up boys, lets get out of here,” Vick said, picking up his cigar.