[b]Prague
Czech Republic
17:22 Local Time[/b]


Phil Coulson stepped into his motel room and locked the door behind him. The room looked like every other cheap room, regardless of the time or place. There were cookie cutter watercolors on the walls showing boats and generic landscapes. The wallpaper, once a bright orange, was faded and chipped with yellowing tobacco stains on its surface. A single bed with bleached cotton sheets lay pressed up against one of the walls, a plain nightstand beside it with a telephone sitting on top.

Coulson unslung his bag and laid it on the floor before walking to the phone and pulling out a pen knife. He popped off the earpiece, revealing wires and a speaker underneath. Reaching into his jacket pocket, Coulson pulled out a small metal disc and connected it to the phone's wiring. He placed the earpiece back when he was finished and dialed the number he needed. An automated greeting picked up a few rings later and gave him options 1-4 to press to reach a line. Instead, Coulson punched nine and listened to the ringing until--

"United States Cultural Attache's office," a pleasant female voice said.

"Yes, ma'am. My name is Greg Clarkson and I'm here working for the [i]Washington-Times Herald[/i] on a story about Prague's tourist sites. I'd like to arrange an interview with the attache sometime this week."

Coulson heard the sound of shuffling papers and a pause as the receptionist looked through her codebook. His use of a defunct paper's name was the key identifier. It was shorthand the world over that an agent in the field wished to request a meeting with the SHIELD staff at the embassy."

"Mr... Clarkson was it?" She asked after a pause. "I'm looking through the attache's calendar, will the 31st work?"

"Perfect. That'll be at your embassy?"

"Yes, sir. 10 on the dot and no later"

"Got it. Thank you."

He rang off and went into his bag. Coulson pulled out a map book of Prague. Tradecraft dictated that the meeting place would be held at whatever location was located on the thirteenth page of the book, the inverse of the thirty-one the receptionist threw out. St. Vitus Cathedral sat on page thirty-one. He checked his watch and saw he had a little under five hours to throw off any tails he may have and get to the rendezvous. If he was even a minute late the meeting would be cancelled. Leaving his bag behind, Coulson tightened his jacket and left the motel room behind.


--


[b]Washington D.C.
11:35 Local Time[/b]


"There is no doubt your record is impressive, Mr. Smiley," said Senator James Albright of Idaho. "You don't get to the top of British intelligence without being good. But large chunks of the file MI6 gave us are blacked out. All we know is that you worked there for twenty plus years, became their head, and retired."

"Can you shed some light on your tenure with MI6?" Senator Ellen Davidson of California asked.

"I am hesitant to do so, Senator," replied Smiley. "As a British national, I may violate several laws by speaking in-depth about my tenure with the Circus. I doubt I can do SHIELD very much good from a London jail cell."

A polite laughter broke out among the senators. Smiley chuckled along with them.

"Why is it called the Circus?" Senator Dan Wilkins of Texas asked after the laughter subsided. 

"Because it used to be located at Cambridge Circus in London before that large monstrosity on the Thames was built. Hard to be a secret service when that thing serves as your headquarters."

"I don't know if you've seen the Triskelion yet, Mr. Smiley, but it's not much better," Senator Davidson said with a grin. "And don't get us started on the flying aircraft carriers."

More laughter from the senators, all of them except one. Senator William Brown of South Carolina, the committee's chairman, stared at Smiley over his reading glasses. 

"There is one thing I think you may be able to answer for me, Mr. Smiley," Senator Brown said in his thick drawl. "And if you can it will go a long way to putting my faith and trust into your appointment. I was part of the House of Representatives' version of this committee in the mid-80's. At that time, our intelligence agencies here heard rumbles from across the pond. The Circus was supposedly in turmoil after a Soviet spy was discovered in its midst. The entire agency had to be rebuilt from the top up, is what our spies here were hearing. Looking at your history, you came back from retirement and took over as 'M' shortly after the inside man was supposedly caught and retired shortly after the Soviet Union collapsed. My question is this: Did you have a hand in catching the mole? Is that why you came back from retirement and ran the agency through the end of the Cold War? You can simply answer yes or no. And I will remind you, as well as my colleagues, that these meetings are secret and will not appear in any record other than sealed SHIELD records. Mr. Smiley?"

Smiley sat stone-faced, perfectly still with his hands resting on the table in front of him. This was the moment, he knew it. Years of conversations, interrogations, and debriefs with three or four layers of meaning had honed his instincts. Senator Brown at least wanted Smiley's confirmation to pass, and he knew this was the way. Hampered by legal constraints, this was how Smiley could prove to the other senators that he was more than qualified to be Fury's cupbearer. But the question brought to mind so many bad memories. Little Percy Alleline with his hangdog look after he was sacked, Ann's tears when Smiley delivered the news, Bill Haydon's nasty turn before it was all said and done, even Jim Prideaux's cold eyes sizing him up over a rickety card table, Smiley adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat.

"Yes," he said softly. "To both. I found the mole inside the Circus and vigorously engaged in counter-action that resulted in the defection of a high-ranking KGB officer known as Karla to the West. Are you familiar with the name, Senator Brown?"

"I am," Brown said with glittering eyes. "I seem to recall the intelligence he gave us destroyed several Soviet plots across Western Europe and Latin America."

"Indeed," was all Smiley said.

"We'll take a thirty-minute recess and convene again," Brown said with the rap of his gavel.