Page 8 of The Secret Librarian
She followed him to the elevator, where he pressed a button and ushered her inside when the doors opened.
‘When you reach your floor, turn right, and room 401 will be on your left.’
Avery nodded, gulping as the doors closed. She was grateful to have the elevator to herself, and she took a few slow, deep breaths until the doors finally opened again when they reached the correct floor.
‘Here goes nothing,’ she muttered under her breath, before stepping out and walking silently down the hallway, checking the number on each door as she passed, her heels sinking into the thick carpet.
When she finally reached room 401, she stopped, not giving herself time to overthink what she was doing, and swiftly lifted her hand to rap her knuckles against the door.
She stood back, her chest rising and falling with each breath, almost ready to think that there was no one waiting for her on the other side, when it finally opened. A man in a suit, his hair greying at the sides, addressed her with a serious expression.
‘Miss Avery Johnson?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, that’s me.’
‘Please come in.’
Avery did as he asked, standing a few steps inside as he shut the door behind her. He held out his hand.
‘I’m Frederick Kilgour,’ he said. ‘Thank you for agreeing to this meeting on such short notice, I’m only in town for two days.’
Avery followed him across the room, surprised to see that it was a large suite and that a desk had been set up in the middle with a chair on either side. She supposed Mr Kilgour was conducting more than one interview for the room to be so well prepared for him.
‘Avery, before we get started, I have to ask you to sign these papers,’ he said, gesturing to a document on the table, a pen waiting beside it. ‘What we’re going to discuss today is confidential, and we need assurances that you will be bound by a confidentiality agreement.’
Avery stepped forward and quickly skim-read the papers, before signing. She could see no reason not to.
‘Thank you. Please, take a seat.’
She sat down opposite him and nervously fiddled with the strap of her purse, suddenly feeling most out of depth being in a room with an unfamiliar man.
‘Avery, your file tells me that you’re an Ivy League graduate who speaks three languages, two fluently, and that you’ve been working for the New York Public Library for a little over six months now.’
‘Yes sir, that’s correct,’ Avery replied.
‘You’re unmarried,’ he said, holding up a manila folder that clearly had a dossier of information on her, ‘your family live in New York, and most importantly, you’ve been working in microphotography since graduation.’
Avery nodded. ‘All correct, although I have to say I haven’t practised my languages in quite some time.’
Kilgour leaned forward, his elbows on the table. ‘Avery, have you heard of the OSS?’
She shook her head. ‘No sir, I haven’t.’
‘It stands for Office of Strategic Services. We’ve essentially been formed by the government solely for the purpose of obtaining information and sabotaging the military efforts of our enemy nations.’
Avery went very still as he explained what the organisation was, but she forced herself to speak when he finished.
‘What I don’t understand, is why someone from the OSS would want to meet me,’ she said. ‘I have no experience in espionage or—’
‘You have experience in microfilming and cataloguing publications, Avery, and that’s what I’m interested in,’ he said, crossing his arms. ‘I’m not looking for experienced spies, we have enough of those already, but what I do need are experts in microphotography with top-notch degrees, and the ability to converse in a language other than English for international postings.’
Avery’s heart began to race.
‘To put it bluntly, we need you, Avery. Specifically, we need you as part of the IDC.’
‘The IDC—’
‘Sorry, short for the Interdepartmental Committee for the Acquisition of Foreign Publications,’ he said, a chuckle breaking his otherwise serious demeanour. ‘I’m always rather proud of myself for remembering that mouthful.’
