TCC01
DINER RECEIPT
RECEIPT NUMBER: TCC01
RECEIPT DATE: 12 1 1988
MANAGER TITLE: TRUSTED ASSOCIATE
RECEIPT NOTES:
They arrived this morning—the S&P’s most notorious division: the Zulus. These are the agents the S&P sends when whispers begin to sound more like hymns. Apparently, there’s a nasty rumor going around about “cult-like” activity happening right here in our humble—and let’s be honest, fairly generic—combination Cafe and Diner. A cult. The audacity. Surely, there’s a clear distinction between fast food swill and the comfort food of a proper Cafe and Diner. At least, there is in my mind.
Still, I nearly choked on my coffee when I spotted their glossy teal irregular lapel pins. See, while everyone in the Agency wears pins, only Alfa and Zulu divisions have uniquely shaped ones. Most fall into neat categories: the triangles at the top, the rectangles of the rank-and-file, and the inverted semicircle chevron-like badges worn by R&D. But Zulu? They proudly wear the mask of Secret on their suits.
Frankly, it was only a matter of time before the Zulus showed up. According to Baltimore, they’ve been more than aware of our operations for a while now. Still, the Zulus don’t take kindly to deflectors. With that in mind, I think it would be wise for me to take a little break from the Cafe—just until they’re done snooping around.
As much as I’d like to believe Shaka—the head of Zulu—has already signed off on my being here, he’s an infuriatingly hard man to read. Everything he’s done for the Cafe so far could just as easily be a long con to get to me. Or, more likely, he hasn’t given my involvement much thought at all. Like our own Eight, Shaka is the kind of person who exclusively sees the big picture.
They’ve already done their initial sweeps, but they’ll be back tomorrow, hunting for more evidence of our so-called cult—or anything else that strikes them as vaguely esoteric. Keep a fresh pot of coffee ready for me in the meantime, won’t you?