Monday December 8th, 2014

The exercise:

The seventh and (mostly) final day of Secret Agent theme week arrives wanting to know the status of your mission - accomplished or failed?

I say mostly because I'm going to use tomorrow as an epilogue day, for those of us unable to wrap things up in the allotted time. Or to tie up any loose ends, that sort of thing.

Christmas is approaching... rather quickly all of a sudden.

Mine:

Agent Pine has always considered himself to be a good man. Reliable, trustworthy, loyal. Perhaps to a fault on that last one. He has always done what his employer has asked of him, whether he personally agreed with the assignment or not. On many of those missions he had suffered greatly.

Now, as he strolls along the crowded sidewalk, ignoring the screaming police cars that everyone else seems unable to watch while also continuing to walk, he is not so certain. His jacket has been traded for a homeless man's tattered trench coat. He walks barefoot, having left his polished black dress shoes without accepting anything in return (the bum's shoes had been too small). Underneath the coat he holds his slacks up with both hands. The cable in his belt had afforded him a twelve storey head start on the guards but had to be abandoned in his haste.

He had not tried to trade pants with the vagrant. There was little time to spare. Also, Agent Pine had his limits.

Those limits are being tested even as he makes his way in the general direction of the safe house. His mind is not yet made up as to whether or not he will actually return there. Questions await his arrival and he is not ready to greet them with his usual candor.

Was the mission successful? Well, that depends on how you look at that sort of thing...

It would be noticed.

And that could only lead to even more questions.

He needs time to think. To answer questions of his own. About his present and his future. He needs room to breathe without anyone breathing down his neck.

He needs time to consider Rose Desmarais' very, very generous offer.

3 Comments:

Greg said...

Yay for Epilogues! And yours certainly deserves one, as I'm still not clear if the mission counts as a success or not :) It's nice that Agent Pine survived, and his getaway is nicely done (though... if he knows his getaway cable is in his belt why does he wear trousers that require a belt?), but there are lots of questions unanswered still!

Mission Status
The Huskies were far too intelligent to crash into a wall or through a door or even to get themselves in a position where the sled could crash into them and hurt them, but the sight of them dragging the unconscious guard around the outer compound was distracting enough that it gave Goss a chance to duck inside unnoticed. His plan had been to steal a cloak, until he squeaked open a door that was annoyingly only 4 feet tall, and saw two men go past wearing the same clothes as he was. He dropped in behind them quickly, letting the door fall shut behind him, and was five paces along the corridor before they noticed him.
"Huh?" said one of them, tilting his head back and looking up. Rupert cursed under his breath, why had the dossier omitted to mention that the people who wore this uniform were vertically challenged?
"Growth hormone," he said, checking his pockets. Something rattled in a shirt pocket, so he pulled out a pill bottle and shook it. "It works!"
"Hot diggety!" said the first little man, his face lighting up. "Is that on the health plan?"
"Your wife's not gonna be happy," said his companion, leering. "Or are you getting enough for the two of you?"
"She's getting enough for the two of us!"
Both men cracked up, and Rupert sidled past them, wondering where the corridor led. His sense of direction suggested that he was still heading inwards, and that was probably where he needed to be.
Fifteen minutes later he'd found kitchens, toilets, a cattery, stables and what might have been a boardroom, but very few people. He leaned against another door, which obligingly swung open as though the Red Bear wasn't expecting any intruders, and he found himself in a study. On a mahogany desk with claw-feet and green-leather inlay, he saw two rolls of parchment. Undoubtedly these were the lists.
He turned, closed and locked the door, and then headed to the desk. Opening the first list he found it headed Naughty and followed by a list of names. Twenty minutes later, hearing hammering on the other side of the door, he found Mumsie and set about erasing her name and transferring it to the other list. That done, he stretched his aching back, and considered how he was going to leave.

David said...

The Barber quickly moved off the path. He figured he had approximately two hours before his hosts would expect them. Which meant they could attempt to contact the driver at any point. So less than two hours.

The Barber was fine. Not a scratch. Physically. Mentally, what to do? The mission had been simple. Find his informant. Dead or alive. If alive, extract and debrief him. Agents are not allowed to go radio silent for that length of time. If dead, improvise. He used to love that creativity. Now, though, the Barber liked order. Bad things always happened when plans were changed.

He found himself hidden in the forest. He could remain there. Unseen. Forever. Screw the rest of them, he was getting to old for this. He could live off the land. That was a plan. Wake up every morning. Gather food for the day. Sleep. Rest. Just be. The Barber had never known that life. He had always kept moving.

The informant must be dead, he assumed. They would not have known he was coming. There was too much information. All the way down to his seat on the plane. He would just stay here in the forest. Live the dream. Until he felt like doing something else.

Which took all of three minutes. Once he heard a car crashing through the trees. A Ford Fiesta. The Barber cursed the end of his vacation and told himself, “next time, tie the guy up.”

Marc said...

Greg - eh, one can't think of everything. At least, it would appear, that I can't :P

Ah, mission accomplished! But will be a full success, with a safe exit? Only time will tell!

David - aw, poor Barber. I don't think it would have lasted significantly longer without the arrival of the Fiesta, but still. I think he's earned a little more than three minutes :)