“Where am I?” He muttered. As soon as his vision cleared, he looked around and found himself in a small motel room. He wasn’t tied up, which surprised him.
“Finally awake, are you?” The voice came from a shadowy corner. Mr. Smith had to squint just to see that anyone was there.
“Who are you, and why am I here in this... place.” He looked around again at his shabby surroundings.
“Who am I?” The figure repeated tartly. “Only the person who saved your life this morning. You ought to be thanking me, not sticking your nose up at my flat.”
“Saved me? From what, may I ask?” Mr. Smith was beginning to get agitated. It was the height of rudeness to talk to a person that way, especially to someone as elite as he was.
“And they told me you were smart. From the sniper. What else? Look, I only took on this mission ‘cause it was either that or a desk job. I’m not happy about this either.”
“Oh, do explain yourself!” He cried, beginning to lose his temper, which wasn’t a frequent occurrence.
“Cool it, mate. I was getting to that.”
Mr. Smith crossed his arms huffily, and took a deep breath in before muttering, “Fine. But please, do get on with it.”
“Please is better. Alright then. I’m an agent. Super secret, as they say. Can’t tell you my name.”
“You? An agent?!” he interrupted rather rudely. He could tell by the voice that it was a woman. He had never even dreamt of the social horrors that might occur in making a woman into an agent. She was obviously less than pleased at his response.
“Yes. An agent. And if you have too much of a problem with it, mate, I can just put you back in front of the sniper and let him take care of business.”
He had never been spoken to in such a way before, but she spoke in such a tone that he didn’t dare to argue.
“Please. Continue.” He squeaked.
“That’s better. Anyway, I was sent by the government to save you from getting assassinated. I only just made it. Couldn’t go in with your little lady friends there. That’s why I had to jump you. Last minute change of plans. Sorry ‘bout the glass, by the way. We’ll get that fixed.”
“Assassinated? Who on earth would assassinate me, and why?”
“You’re a rich man, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Powerful?”
“Well, somewhat.” He admitted.
“Make your living by sweet talking the competitors during business deals?”
“To put it bluntly.” He replied, somewhat miffed at having his job described so basely.
“Any of those competitors that might be upset over one of your little deals recently?”
The lights suddenly turned on for him. “Brownsley.”
“Precisely.” The agent stated.
“But why would the government step in?”
“I don’t really know. It’s something to do with potential international incidents and some kind of swing vote in an important issue. I don’t ask the questions. I just do the job.”
“Why do you hide in the shadows like that?”
“I guess you could call it a feeble attempt to postpone the inevitable. But since you’ve already guessed at it, yeah, I’m not a man. Most people have a problem with it.” With that, she stepped into the light, still wearing her black mask and form fitting leather uniform. The only difference was that now she was also wearing a long coat, which covered most of the weapons she carried.
“I can see why.” He blurted, and immediately regretted it. For a man who made his living at knowing just what to say to people, he was failing miserably. She glared, but didn’t react much. He could see that she got the same reaction quite frequently.
“Yeah, yeah.” She grumbled.
“I’m dreadfully sorry if I’ve offended. But, I mean, well, couldn’t you at least wear a dress?”
“Oh yes, climbing a building in a dress would be incredibly effective.”
“You climbed...” he stuttered. He couldn’t decide whether to be impressed or horrified. A woman, climbing his twenty-seven story building, jumping through his window, kidnaping him, and wearing pants? He felt a little faint.
“I... I think I need to lie down.” He said weakly. “Where’s my room, please?”
“You’re in it. That’s your bed.”
“In the same room? With you? Isn’t that... uh...”
“What? Are you thinking of trying something?” She said dryly, “Because I highly recommend that you don’t. I could kill you six times just with what I’ve got in my left boot.”
“I... here’s great.” He conceded.
He got into the bed, feeling very dizzy. He had never in his life been so off balance in a verbal confrontation, and it disturbed him greatly.
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