Here's the deal. I've just recently rediscoverd theagents blog. And therein, I found the story that The Agent, and Agent Orange had started, and left two years ago. So, I figured that I'd add my own little spin on it. I started from the beginning, the bar scene, and went from there. Here goes:
I've followed her for days, a ghost of her shadow. The bar was full of thick smoke, which made the atmosphere. My Marlboro did nothing but add to it. Limping, she moved towards a skinny guy shuffling cards, queen on top. As she sat, they muttered back and forth. Must be a password. He must be an agent.
The smoke got thicker, and smelled kinda sweet. "Oh hell, they're blowing cover smoke! Thermals are gonna be useless" I fumed into my comms unit.
I watched from my table, a half empty beer sweating onto the coaster, as they quickly exchanged an envelope. As he rose, he lit up another cigarette. I know he saw the laser aimed at his companions back. I must not be the only cat digging this assignment.
My target left as well, "Okay guys, she's coming out. Keep a hard eye on her." I ordered over the comms. Then I added, "Lose her and I waste you." Double clicks fill my ear, they get it. I copied the guy's move, and lit up a cigarette as I headed for the door.
A few hours later, my team reported back, they lost her, but only after the bar guy interfered. So, he's in on this fun little game, well, fine.
"But we do have some good news sir, We picked her up again, at the a big hotel two miles away. One of our sleeper agents took her to room 715."
"Excellent we'll set up a snatch and grab, then take them back to X-2. Keep up surveillence, I'll be onsight in ten minutes." I told my team. I grabbed my Smith & Wesson M&P .40, and a few spare magazines.
"Sir, it gets better, The other agent, the guy, he's there as well. And they have the envelope. Also, the sleeper is still watching the room."
My laptop started beeping, I'd gotten mail.
Recover Plates. Arrange for re-delivery.
Worked for me.
Twenty minutes later, and we were staged in the stairwell down the hall from 715. I decided to let the sleeper, who was in cover as a bell hop, make the first move. When he got to the door, the idiot pulled out a Sig P228 and unloaded on the door.
"Abort, abort! That idiot just blew our cover!" I screamed into the stairwell. I looked back at he moron, only to see his brains splatter on the wall behind him, and his body fold like a rag-doll. Moments later, the two agents slipped out the door, and he was carrying Ritchie's laptop. "Damn.", I exhaled through the smoke of a freshly lit Marlboro.
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