1714 Central European Time, Ostrava, Czechoslovak Socialist Republic

The life of a spy is sometimes filled with moments of great boredom. As was the case with Jan Vrabec, who was currently waiting at the central station in this industrial city for a train to arrive from Prague.

A train that was running three hours late. The other taxi drivers who frequented this beat had hoped to get the bigger cheeses arriving to their hotels by now and be away for dinner, but no, they were going to have to wait for their money today.

And in Jan Vrabec's case, a British Member of Parliament who might be willing to share some interesting gossip about their government. Until the CIA group that was apparently coming showed up - which would probably be in the early hours of the morning if that train ran to time, it would have to do.

People in taxis loved using them as confessionals, he found. Probably about the same chance the taxi driver was an StB informer as their priest was too...

Jan re-arranged his flat cap for the tenth time. It gave him something to do as he waited for the train, the train that was probably not arriving. Given that Ostrava was a main junction in Czechoslovakia and also the main hub to Poland, there was never a quiet moment in here. Freight trains ponderously rumbled along the tracks, together with the odd passenger express. The small talk with the other cab drivers quickly dried out as everyone was by now quite bored. The first quitters had already left, looking for fares elsewhere, a privilege Jan was not allowed. He would have to wait, however long it took.

The air was getting a bit smoggy - Ostrava was the industrial hub of those country and you very much noticed it.

Watching the entrance, he saw two men coming out of it. One of them was wearing a rather smart suit, coat and homburg hat, while the other was dressed in a much cheaper version of the same clothes. Jan figured that the former was Jacob Warner, MP. It matched the photograph he had been given. The other man was carrying his rather heavy suitcase, something that required both hands.

They walked towards the taxi. Clearly something had worked today.

Casually, Jan re-arranged his flat cap and opened the trunk to allow the luggage to be placed in there. Leaving it open, he also opened the back door to allow the MP into the taxi.

Jacob Warner settled into the backseat, removing his hat and placing it beside him. His minder sat next to him.

The minder told him which hotel to go to; Jan knew it well. There weren't many hotels in Ostrava that catered to foreigners; this wasn't exactly a place that Czechoslovaks swarmed to either. Industrial wastelands tend to be like that.

As Jan pulled out, he could see that the rush hour was starting and there were likely to be a lot of buses around. Not that the traffic would be like it was in the West, that land forbidden to nearly all his people...

OOC: Mining in Ostrava stopped in 1994 and the area has been massively cleaned up.

Jan will try to overcome the traffic by some 'side road' knowledge he may have. He'll keep an attentive hear as to whatever is happening in the back seat.

In reply to Jan Vrabec (msg # 6):

His charge suddenly spoke up.

[Language unknown: "Ic, ar ing sion plre eraous'ousatevorereoul m intticble o pontas e vir but?"]

Jan knew that there was a zoo, with a couple of elephants, a polar bear and three chimpanzees. It probably couldn't compare to London Zoo, but it was probably somewhere that a visitor would want to see. Unless you liked coal mines, there wasn't much here.

OOC: The 1987 Czechoslovakia tourist guide I have completely skips Ostrava.

OOC : I'll use a bit of wikipedia knowledge.

'Well, do you like maybe theatre? The State Theatre is popular with visitors... and locals... maybe the Zoo?... Good option if you don't mind the weather...'

In reply to Jan Vrabec (msg # 8):

"Not sure I'd be keen on the theatre, but a zoo always sounds fun", the MP replied. "Less revolting creatures than the Palace of Westminster that's for certain. George Brown is a terror when he's drunk. Which is most of the time..."

Now there was some political gossip, although StB might know it already. George Brown was the British Foreign Secretary and deputy leader of the governing Labour Party, so him being an alcoholic was of some note.

OOC: A 1985 obituary of George Brown: https://www.latimes.com/archiv...4-mn-6517-story.html - he is the reason for the euphemism "tired and emotional"