Communion Of Dreams

An excerpt.

Another in the occasional series of passages from St. Cybi’s Well:

“Hello, Colonel.”

Darnell looked at the man. He was slight, wiry. A simple blue business suit, complete with shirt and tie. Light blue handkerchief peeking out from his breast pocket in an almost casual way. Silver hair slicked back. No glasses, but probably wearing contact lenses. In an earlier age, he probably would have been called “dapper,” and would be seen by most as an almost stereotypical diplomatic attache – an aging, genteel man relaxing in what was probably his final posting.

Darnell had worked for the Israelis long enough to know otherwise. He nodded. “Eli.”

The man passed over the small shoulder bag. “The items you requested.”


“Curious why you just didn’t stop by our offices. Why meet here?”

Darnell looked out over the wall of the small tower, onto the castle grounds some ways below. “Oh, I like the touch of melodrama. Keep ‘em guessing.”

“Our American friends would know you’re here, either way.”

“Of course. And they’re not particularly my friends.”

Eli smiled. There was an edge to it. “But they are ours, and so allow you greater leeway than they would otherwise.”

“Only because I’m valuable to you.” Sidwell returned the smile. “And I think you enjoy annoying them.”

“Well, yes,” he laughed. He glanced to the bag. “So, the items you requested. That’s quite a large sum of money.”

Darnell shrugged. “It’s mine. This way I don’t have to fuss moving it into the U.K. Even with the way things have gone, the government here is much too willing to do the American government’s bidding.”

“It did raise some eyebrows, though.” He assessed Darnell, watching closely, his smile fading slightly. “You’re not preparing to do anything … rash … are you?”

Sidwell looked him in the eye, held his gaze. “Nope. I’m not that foolish. I just wanted to help out my sister’s charity, without giving the Americans an excuse to try and claim some of the money for themselves.”

“Ah.” A slight nod. “Good. Well, in addition to the money, the hand-held you wanted. As well as the gun and cartridges.”


“My pleasure.” The smile was now completely gone. “But please, do not do anything rash. It would cause us both a great deal of trouble.”


Jim Downey

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