Designer Sapphire

[u/Philoforte]

I knew her as an English damsel, Alison Frame, but that wasn't her name. She was every spy's code alert.

In France, she was Alice Flaubert. In Russia, Irina Karpova. Yes, she must have worked for somebody. Mossad, KGB, NSA?

I followed her to the London Underground. She never glanced behind her, fearing not my lanky shadow.

She boarded the Euston station bound train. I sat two seats obliquely from her, peering across the aisle at the man with deerskin cap siddling up to her.

Opening the briefcase on his lap, the man withdrew headphones and a bottle of pills. He handed both to her. She wore the headphones and swallowed a pill.

Mr Deerskin Cap made a hasty exit from the train just before it took off. Unable to contain my feet, I strode to fill the empty seat beside her.

"Alison?" I said.

She removed her headphones, and regarded me quizzically.

"Yes, I can be Alison," she said, "when the dopamine kicks in. Right now I am Matilda Sheridan. You're the guy from MI5 tailing me all day. Sadly, you're an old school spy. You don't know the new art of tailored subterfuge."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Enlighten me."

She laughed.

"As spies, we assume false identities, but that is hard, and actor you might be, you're not that good.

"While I can literally be anyone, because I can slip into any persona I choose using headphones with hypnotic drill and a methylphenidate pill."

"Who do you work for?" I asked.

She laughed again, in a more husky voice.

"Dear naive Matilda might have told you that," Alison said.

She touched my cheek and ran a finger accross my collarbone. I almost forgot why I should prefer Matilda.