An Athenian Diary

29

Gary Reger, International Man of Mystery

"Secret agent man." What is his mission? Where do his loyalties lie? Does he spy with his eyes, or is that a camera disguised as a belly ring?

It was Monday, December 1. Start of a week, start of a month. I had slipped away from my cover as a mild-mannered professor at an obscure research institution. I had my camera in hand. Unnoticed by the heat, I made my way by back streets to Dexameni. Might not mean anything to you, but we spies know what's there -- a playground. But not just any playground. I snapped my pictures, furtively, carefully. Never know who might be watching. Dumb tourist disguise works best.

Suddenly, at my side, a beefy hunk of a guy, turtleneck, black leather jacket -- you know the type. Out comes his wallet, quick with the ID just like in the movies. No time to read anything, just that Greek flag background. The heat. "What are you doing?" Direct, to the point. No subtlety -- makes it easier. "It's a playground -- my kids play there. I wanted a picture for my friends back home." "No pictures here -- it's not allowed."

Wow. The pressure was on. I knew he had me. Had to think fast.

"Let's see your passport." "I don't have it." "What do you have?" Showed my American School ID -- that's the ticket, stick with your cover as long as you can. Gotta be cool. He can't read it. That's good -- or bad. "You can't take pictures here." "Why not?" "Because that's the house of the prime minister." "Oh my, I didn't know, I'm sorry. Can I take a picture of the playground from over there? And the statue?" (Greek poet guy -- won some kinda award or something. They have him dressed up like some worker. You know those socialists. Poets as workers.) "Of course. Just not of the house. Or you can take the Akropolis." Selling it like those guys to Lord Elgin? I'm not falling for that trick. "Thanks, I didn't know." "Now you know."

Right, copper. I took my pictures. Got the playground, and the statue. They think it's the prime minister we're after. Don't have a clue -- it's not the prime minister, it's his playground. Control will be very happy with these shots. No kids to mess up that playground shot. Statue kept very still. Heat disappeared, and I beat it back to my cover spot. Just another day in the life of Gary Reger, International Man of Mystery.

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