It was New Years Eve, a few minutes to midnight, and I was in a car. I had expected to be with my family but I hadn't counted on the CIA getting involved. The snow was falling as the car sped over the freshly ploughed and salted blacktop. The crisis was over and I would soon be back in the warm embrace of the family home.
It had all started an hour before at the pickup point. Cars gathered with trunks poised to receive their subversive cargos. The others looked like ordinary people - cover stories fitted snuggly like latex undergarments. One plastic tub per car filled to the brim. One look at the contents verified my suspicions - they were serious.
The column of motor vehicles exited the car park and immediately divided into 2 cadres each heading to their own destination. Local hospitals. My driver laughed as he held up a small bag, "This should take care of security". It was an ominous admission.
We arrive. Three units, 3 plastic tubs. Security nowhere to be seen. The mysterious "candy bag" will not be needed after all. We head to our respective targets - codenames for each: Emergency Room, the Lab and Maternity Services. Its party time. The overt ops have begun.
We soon locate our contact at the lab. He seems uncertain. But we are not to be thwarted in our intent. I press the tub into his hands. He looks down at the contents...
"Happy New Year", my fellow operative intones, "We're from Faith church. This is in appreciation of you folks working on a night like tonight. We'll be praying you're not busy." As the lab technician visually catalogued the range of snacks and drinks, he smiled and said, "That's something we can all pray for!"