Agent Thirteen - S Liongate
2797 Words
DATE: FOURTEENTH OF FEBRUARY,
TIME: TWENTY THREE HUNDRED HOURS,
LOCATION: TOP SECRET
“Reception, this is…”
“It happened again - didn’t it?”
“No…”
“If you say so Agent Thirteen.”
“Just dispatch a clean up unit to my location and patch me through to Missions.”
“Clean up is dispatched,” Reception was clearly snickering, “hold for Missions.”
The line clicked and frustrating hold music blared down the phone. The kind that had ‘Your call is important to us…’ every ten seconds making you think someone had picked up.
“Agent Thirteen, you’re through to Missions - Forth Desk, how can I help?”
“Forth Desk, please advise on available transfers, case availability and…”
“Not again Agent Thirteen? Really?”
Six hours earlier…
DATE: FOURTEENTH OF FEBRUARY,
TIME: SEVENTEEN HUNDRED HOURS,
LOCATION: 5 MINUTES FROM TARGET
“Front Desk, this is Agent Thirteen. Mission Blue Spook is complete. Over.” I radioed in as I parachuted over the city.
“Agent Thirteen this is Front Desk, roger that. Which department names the missions? I swear they are getting dafter by the day. Over.” Front Desk replied.
“Pretty sure it’s AI generated now. I’m surprised you haven’t been replaced with automated voice recognition. Over.”
“Jeez, Agent Thirteen, don't be giving Central any ideas - you know they screen these logs. Over.” Front Desk hissed over the comms.
“Yeh, with AI… the transcription analytics department went five? Six years back? Over.” No that I’d been with the agency back then.
“God, forgot about the TA. I had such a crush on Suzie. She’s wiped though now, running her own bakery on the east coast. Over.”
“Tut, tut Front Desk, you’re not misappropriating Government resources to keep tabs on an old flame are we? Over.” I couldn’t help but tease a little.
“Hey, Suzie was just a crush, never got past small talk at the water cooler - another thing that's gone by the way. I check her welfare report each year, you know just to see how she’s doin’, not like I’m stalking her on the satellite. Over.”
“If you say so Front Desk. Permission to sign off? Over.” I’d spotted my planned landing site and was angling myself for touch down.
“Permission granted Agent Thirteen. Best of luck and Godspeed. Over.”
“I got a good feeling about this one, Front Desk. Give you the scoop on the flip side. Agent Thirteen signing off.” With a grace that comes from a lot of practice, I landed on the roof of the apartment building. My hopes were high. Not only had I booked the restaurant and organised accommodation almost a year in advance, I had used the software at Central to narrow the playing field. Once I had a list of potential 'Mrs Agent Thirteens' I made my move.
You see, I’m a spy. You might have already guessed that but if you didn’t… there you go. Exciting adventure, daring quests, top secret information, super cool technology that’s unavailable to the public, epic skills and a glorious bod from the high intensity training BUT it’s a major blow to finding true love.
First of all there just isn’t the time to meet people that I’m not killing, maiming, torturing or imprisoning in the name of national security. Secondly - I have the worst luck with dating. God loves a trier though. Bad luck you say? Like she turns out to be your cousin or has 300lb on her profile pic?
I wish those were my problems. Those are problems you can work with. Plenty of States where you can marry your cousin. Bit of a heffer? I’d rather have a lovable, squidgy date with extra cushion for the pushin’ than a cold bed to come home to.
I’m not joshing, there’s some serious hex or summat on my love life. Let's take this chronologically.
2016 - Senior Valentine’s Dance , Felicia Grace, sliced in half by a falling sign for Half and Half.
2017 - Freshman Year, Valentine’s Ball, Bianca Wether, psychotic break down, stabbed a lot of people before deep throating some electrical cabling. She survived but has a permanent room at an asylum.
2018 - Sophomore, Valentine’s Charity Gala, Trixy Speckle, would not decline a dare - the dare won.
2019 - Junior Year, Valentine’s Picnic, Heidi (I forget her last name), foreign exchange student, drank pickle juice straight from the jar, crazy strong and wanted to peg me. Workable… but she wouldn’t take her doll collection out of the bed… or at least let me put a sheet over them.
2020 - Senior year, Valentines camping, Rebecca Smith, got food poisoning, eaten by a bear while shitting in the woods
2021 - First year as a spy. Found love in the department. Guess, bet you can guess it… you that’s right she was a double agent. Had to choke her to death mid f**k, although, that was pretty good.
2022 - Mad scientist, gave me space scabies. SPACE SCABIES. Enough said.
2023 -TBC
That’s right you can't make this s**t up. This is my year. I can feel it. 2023 is going to be the perfect date. Viola Castle is perfect in every way. I’ve done background checks, compatibility analytics, genetic screening - the lot. Viola is 24, blond hair, blue eyes, pins for days what with her generous 5ft 7” stature, one tasteful tattoo with an inspirational quote, full clean driving licence and no criminal record. Mid to high grades in school, plays the piano, likes dogs but not cats, a little outdoorsy but has bookish tendencies, works for a large but respectable firm, currently rents her apartment but has very healthy finances. Literally if there is something to know about Viola -I know it. We’ve been chatting on the phone for the last couple of months (calls and messages), getting to know each other and developing the relationship organically after the initial deliberate instigation of a meet cute by my amazing self.
DATE: FOURTEENTH OF FEBRUARY,
TIME: SEVENTEEN TWENTY HUNDRED HOURS,
LOCATION: 6 MINUTES FROM TARGET DESTINATION
Parachute packed away, I grab the package stashed behind a false brick in the wall. It contains the keys for both the door on the roof and the door to the apartment I've rented in the same building. It also has ‘my’ wallet with ID for Derick Watts - my cover persona, some clean cash, credit card that can’t be traced and a burner phone that Viola’s messages were currently redirected to. I was already in my snappy work suit so it was just a case of dumping my jumpsuit and parachute in the back of the rented apartment’s wardrobe, checking the rose petals were on the bed, the champagne was in the fridge and grabbing the diamond necklace gift off the countertop. The whole apartment had been professionally staged to look lived in, with a few packing boxes staged about the place to re enforce my cover story of moving. Things may or may not work out with Viola tonight but in any case I couldn’t just have her turning up at ‘my door’ whenever. She would soon learn that I’m never ‘home’ and grow suspicious. Best to see how things play out first.
Everything in hand I hightailed it out of the apartment building and to the restaurant across the street. Italian, the perfect Valentine’s cuisine. Viola’s favourite too.
DATE: FOURTEENTH OF FEBRUARY,
TIME: EIGHTEEN HUNDRED HOURS,
LOCATION: RESTAURANT, THIRTY MINUTES INTO DATE
Viola was the epitome of grace. Her hair was in soft blond curls. She wore a tight but tasteful red dress. When she laughed it was a beautiful sound, stardust tinkling through the atmosphere. Viola also had an exquisite palet - her menu choices were perfect, sophisticated. For appetiser we’d both ordered a classic; Minestrone soup.
“Waiter,” I clicked my fingers, garnering the attention of a server, “some more bread for the table.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“Derick, the main will be along shortly, no need for more bread.” Viola was polite but I saw the way her lips twitched and her blue eyes narrowed slightly. Damn it, she thought I was trying to fill her up on bread. I’d made her think I was cheap.
“Indeed, it's just unsightly to have a half eaten basket at the table.” My expedient reply smoothed things over quickly. “So, Viola, any holidays planned this year?”
“Yes actually, I’ve been planning a trip to Greece. Ancient Greek history is just fascinating…” I nodded and smiled, already knowing all about it. It was a great topic because it was something Viola was very passionate about. Something she could talk about to her heart's content. “Sorry, am I boring you…?”
“Oh, no, not at all!”
“You look bored.” Viola’s luscious red lips had become a tight line.
“I was just contemplating the incredible influence of Ancient Greece on the modern world - triangles are my favourite shape. Pythagoras, well, he’s a hero.” I raised my glass.
“Are you going to behave this way all night?” Viola’s eyes were hard as I choked on my wine.
“I…?”
“You didn’t push in my seat, have been rude to the waiting staff, you slurped your soup, and only engaged with the current topic to make fun of something I hold in high regard.” My perfect date was suddenly turning t**s up. Viola looked severely disappointed.
“Viola, please forgive me. I’m just nervous.” I shrugged apologetically, throwing my hands out.
“Urgh.” The waiter exclaimed in pained shock when my hand hit him in the nuts. Bread flew up in the air, raining down on the table. A roll landed in Viola’s wine, splashing it all over her face.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry.” I stood quickly, not sure who I was apologising to first.
“Not a problem, sir. Happens more often than you’d think.” The waiter wheezed. Seeing Viola, wine dripping down her face, I grabbed what I thought was a napkin.
‘Cluts’ Viola mouthed, a twinkle in her eyes as I yanked the table cloth. My empty soup bowl fell to the floor, splitting in two. The candles, lit for romantic ambiance, toppled; everything went up in flames.
Shit. This Valentine’s was going up in flames, literally. I grabbed a glass of water from the next table over but instead of wetting the flame it fueled it. The man from which I’d pilfered it from received a flabbergasted look from myself. Turns out it was a full glass of vodka - who orders a neat vodka that large? On Valentine’s of all things!
“FIRE!” A waitress screamed, running at the table with an extinguisher held out as if it were a cross being used to exorcise a demon. “AHHHHH.” She screamed aggressively at the spreading fire, spraying the CO2 wildly. “ARRRRRRRHHHHH” The waitress screamed painfully as the hand holding the bottom of the extinguisher became frozen to it.
Viola was leaning back from the table, an amused look on her CO2 dusted face as the calamity continued to unfold. The first waiter (the one I’d whacked in the nuts) grabbed the extinguisher, trying to seperate it from the waitress’s hand. When he finally got it off, along with a large chunk of the waitress’s palm, it slipped from his hands, somehow hitting both a light fitting and a sprinkler. The electricity shorted, plunging the restaurant into darkness, diners began screaming, and those that didn’t scream at the lights going out certainly did when the sprinklers started dishing out icy water.
DATE: FOURTEENTH OF FEBRUARY,
TIME: EIGHTEEN THIRTY HUNDRED HOURS,
LOCATION: SIDEWALK OUTSIDE OF RESTAURANT, ONE HOUR INTO DATE
“Hey, look I’m really sorry about tonight.” We were standing curbside, emergency service lights flashing all around. The whole restaurant had been evacuated, everyone had a blanket from the fire crew to keep our soggy selves warm while they assessed the scene.
“It’s certainly the most interesting Valentine’s I’ve ever had.” Viola giggled.
“Not the worst one I’ve ever had.”
“Night’s not over…” She gave me a cheeky look.
“You…” Make or break, the night was already a disaster - I couldn’t make it much worse, “wanna come back to my place?”
“I thought you’d never ask!” Before she could change her mind, I took her hand and led Viola across the street. “This is your apartment building? Across the street from the restaurant you pretty much just destroyed? Good God it’s just as well you’re moving!”
My suit was waterproof so I was dry but Viola was soaked from the sprinklers so she got warm in the shower and put on a dressing gown while I poured the Champagne before pulling a favour to get us some takeout.
DATE: FOURTEENTH OF FEBRUARY,
TIME: TWENTY TWO FIFTY HUNDRED HOURS,
LOCATION: APARTMENT, FOUR HOURS TWENTY MINUTES INTO DATE
We had the most amazing conversation, stuffed our faces with Korean food, and drank all the Champagne. Viola was the woman of my dreams. She loved the diamond necklace that I had gifted her. Loved it so much it was now the only thing she was wearing.
“Holy smokes you are hot…”
“Not hot enough apparently.” She winked, a little tipsy. “You did try to set me on fire.”
My eyes traversed the glory that was her body; from the perfect, arched feet, to her pristine p***y, pinched waist, perky breasts and puckered lips. Viola launched herself at me, one hand gripping the lapel of my jacket, the other tugging at my tie as she kissed me so hard I could see the milky way. If everything went the way it looked like it was going there was going to be a milky spill right in her way.
“Ow, static.” Viola pulled back sharply.
Oops, I was still in my work suit, i.e. spy suit and it didn’t take kindly to me being ‘attacked’ - even if it was in the good kinda way.
Not wanting to lose the momentum of the moment I pulled off the tie myself with one hand while shrugging out of the jacket with the other. Viola excitedly joined me and started undoing my belt. My sleeper agent was now fully awake.
“What is this?” Viola held up a pill. Pretty sure I went white as a sheet. Somehow she’d managed to open the secret compartment in my buckle. “One thing you need to know about me, Derick, is I loove to party.” Before I could react the blond haired beauty swallowed the drug. It was a sort of truth serum. Mostly it just made targets very happy and very compliant while seeming rather drunk.
Workable.
Lightening fast, I slid through the buttons on my shirt revealing my eight pack and rippling muscles. Viola was drooling. There were a few minutes before the truth serum would kick in and I wanted to get down and dirty before things got sloppy.
“Viola, I’m going to f**k you so hard, your party is going to have a party.”
“Bring it on, stud.” She did a little, playful growl and gnashed her teeth at me. I couldn’t kick off my shoes and pants fast enough.
DATE: FOURTEENTH OF FEBRUARY,
TIME: TWENTY THREE HUNDRED HOURS,
LOCATION: TOP SECRET
“Whhht time iiiis it, lemmy see,” Viola pawed at my wrist watch (the only other thing I was wearing was her - you know what I mean), slurring and delirious from dosing herself, “don wanna misssss de count down.”
“Babe, it’s Valentine’s not New Years.”
“CH-eck de d-ate.” She poked the watch again.
*Ppfft*
A little poison laced dart was fired out of the watch, hitting her in the neck and killing her in seconds.
“Reception, this is…”
“It happened again - didn’t it?”
Pen Name: S Liongate
Works -
Dreame
The Wrong Hope (free, complete - dark, suspense, Vampire/Hunter)
Claiming the Remnant (free, regular updates, 3/4 complete - romance, magic, Fae)
Convenience Nights (free, short stories, more to come - funny, Vampire)
In.kitt
The Wrong Hope (regular updates - dark, suspense, Vampire/Hunter)
Claiming the Remnant (regular updates - romance, magic, Fae)
- Writer
