Operation Red Book

"Two cups of espresso, one with two brown sugar cubes, and the other with nothing, thank you!"

"Is that all, Mr. Johnson?"

It was warm as spring in the Freesia Café, the aroma of roasted cream was rich and the whole house was filled with the fragrance of coffee.

There were not many customers in the store, and several brown round tables were empty.

Two gray-haired old gentlemen were sitting not far from the bar. They were tall and straight and looked very impressive.

"Oh! Arthur, you know me. Two espressos are my limit. Why don't you ask Sir Jim who is sitting opposite me?"

Johnson smiled faintly, and the gentleman opposite him smiled politely in return.

"I see, sir. Welcome, Sir Jim. What would you like to order today?"

"I want a cappuccino and one of the best desserts you have... Oh! I'd rather have two."

Sir Jim's face was glowing and he looked beaming.

"You are so happy, something good must have happened to you today."

"That's right! Hahaha!" Sir Jim laughed heartily.

"Old Jim got a promotion today. After more than thirty years, he finally became the editor-in-chief."

"Hahahahahaha!"

"Congratulations! It is indeed worth celebrating! In that case, let me treat you two to a meal, so that I can also share in your good fortune."

"Okay!"

The store manager nodded slightly and quietly retreated, his brown mustache like a long bow.

"You've got the whole paper to yourself, old Jim! Tell me in a whisper, what's your grand plan?"

Johnson crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair.

"The first thing to do is to cancel all those disgusting yellow journalism! We are an authoritative newspaper, representing the people of London! If we can't even tell the most basic truth, then what kind of media are we! What kind of newspaper are we!"

said Sir Jim indignantly.

"Good good!"

Johnson gave a symbolic applause.

A waiter in a white apron arrived at that very moment with three cups of coffee, two cigarettes and two dark brownies.

"So, I invite you to come here..."

Johnson lit a cigarette, his voice lazy and magnetic.

"I wanted to discuss the news report about Miss Ivy with you."

"I know! That little girl from China...Oh, thank you!"

Sir Jim took the brownie from the clerk and stared at the dessert, his smile widening.

"She's in the headlines far more often than the prince's new nigger mistress, and I'm sure she and the Chinaman Wharf will be completely wiped out of London within a week."

"Speaking of her, I thought her name would be some weird Chinese name like Liu or Chen, but who knew she was actually called Ivy..."

"My name is Lee, Ivy is my English name, thank you."

The clerk next to him suddenly interrupted, and Sir Jim was so scared that his hands shook and the small spiral porcelain plate almost fell to the ground.

He stared blankly at the clerk beside him—she had straight black hair tied up, and a porcelain-like oriental face…

"Nice to meet you. I'm Ivy Lee."

Ivy smiled and bowed to Sir Jim. She pulled out the stool next to Johnson and slowly sat down on it.

"You...she...you...I..."

Sir Jim spoke incoherently, his face was pale, and the joy he had shown before was long gone.

"I asked Mr. Johnson to help arrange an appointment with you. Congratulations on your promotion to editor-in-chief of the newspaper!"

Ivy showed her standard eight teeth, looking very clever.

"I would like to place a few articles in the newspaper and may need your help."

"Impossible!" Sir Jim curled his lips and looked serious.

"You don't even know what the news is, but I'm sure you'll be very interested."

"Nonsense! Don't I know what news you want to publish? It's nothing but those shitty articles that speak for you. Most of them were written by hired guns!"

"Impossible! I tell you, I can't let these things appear in the newspaper I'm in charge of, especially during this period when I just took office! I obey Her Majesty the Queen, and I can't openly become an enemy of the government!"

"hehe!"

Johnson sneered, his face blurred in the smoke and his expression could not be seen clearly.

"Did you hear that, Miss Ivy? The last sentence is the key point."

"I understand your cowardly character, but..."

Ivy still smiled, looking bright and confident.

"But I don't want to publish those rebuttal articles that no one wants to read. In fact, what people like to read most are the bad things about the royal family..."

"It's nothing more than which prince cheated on his wife or which princess gave birth to a child. These are the same things that have remained the same for thousands of years... Well, the public does like to watch them, but I just turn a blind eye to them."

"All right, old Jim."

Johnson threw away his cigarette butt, the lingering smoke gradually dissipated in the air, and his face gradually became clear.

"Ms. Ivy has indeed been wrongly accused. You know how important a girl's reputation is."

"She just wants to go back to the quiet old days, like those four years you spent at LSE."

"I've read the news she mentioned. If that's not possible, how can I let you two talk face to face?"

Sir Jim's face was extremely gloomy, and he stared at Johnson, his protruding frog-like eyes flashing with sharp anger.

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, and Sir Jim opened his mouth several times, but finally he just let out a long sigh to announce his compromise.

"Tell me about it..."

"You must have heard about what Madison did in the United States."

"He's an American, and the bad things he does in America are great things for Britain."

"What if he did the same thing in England?"

"So what? In terms of how bad they are, the Scots are far more annoying than the Americans. After all, the Americans are just a bunch of clowns, but the Scots are a bunch of robbers."

"So the Scots also want to be members of the British royal family?"

"I bet your pardon?"

"Madison had a lot of dealings with the British royal family. You can see for yourself how much trouble he got into and how many officials and nobles he offended during this period."

Ivy took out a thick stack of letters from somewhere and placed it on the table like a huge hill.

At least that was what Sir Jim saw, he was trembling all over and beads of sweat were falling on his forehead.

The bright red wax seal on the white envelope came from 10 Downing Street. He had been sending and receiving letters for more than ten years, so there was no way he could make a mistake.

"No, no, I, I, I can't get involved in the affairs of the royal family and the government..."

"It took me more than 30 years to get promoted from an assistant in the mailroom to editor-in-chief. I can't do it..."

"My position is not yet warm, and I have not yet realized my dream..."

"Goodbye..."

As soon as he finished speaking, Sir Jim stood up tremblingly.

He took out the handkerchief from his collar and wiped his wet eyes several times.

"Wait, Sir Jim, I have another headline for you..."

Ivy's tone became increasingly cold. She took out a black-and-white photo from her arms and threw it on the pile of envelopes with a "swish".

There is a lot of noise in the photo, but this does not affect the clear face reflected.

"My friend took a random photo of the audience at the Humphrey Theatre last Saturday night at 8 o'clock, and I paid a lot of money to get the negatives..."

"There are reporters and editors from several newspapers, and in the front row are MPs and ministers. What's interesting is that each of them has a lady jogging parallel to their wife sitting next to them..."

"you!"

"Look, Sir Jim! There you are, taking such a good picture, even down to the very roots of your hands resting on the breasts of that pretty young lady..."

“You guys are fxxked!”

Sir Jim jumped back at the speed of light. He grabbed the black and white photo on the table and stuffed it into his trouser pocket. Then, with trembling hands, he put all the envelopes on the table into his arms.

"I can help you push Madison, after all, I don't like him either, but I must say that I hate you more!"

"Great, then I will be a bad guy to the end. Please cut Mr. Johnson's upcoming advertising fee in half."

"impossible!"

"My friend also took another photo from a different angle."

"give it to me!"

Ivy tore the photo to pieces in front of her, with the corners of her mouth curled up for no reason.

"And one more thing……"

"The report on Mrs. Emerson also requires your cooperation..."

She stopped smiling, and a hint of contempt and sarcasm flashed in her eyes.

"It would be best if it was released to the streets before the Macmillan dinner this Sunday."

On the table, a cup of untouched coffee was still steaming, and the dark and rich brownie was only missing a corner, but it still looked sweet and delicious.