False Agent

( This is a little short story I wrote quite a while ago. Magically rediscovered in the dark archives that I call my backup documents. )

It was a bright, sunny day in southern California as Rob Telrin steadily drove north in his old beat up Ford Pickup. His suit tie flapped in the breeze from the open window and his faded black suit jacket was wrinkled at the edges. A faint acrid smell began to waft into the vehicle as he approached Bakersfield, the location of his first objective.

“Processing plant must be starting up early,” he muttered under his breath. “This might complicate things”.

Not long after, he arrived in Bakersfield, exiting and heading directly to the large corporate office at the far end of the street. Rob was beginning to grow nervous and a tad anxious. The last objective had been extremely complicated. Someone had snitched on his mission and now foreign agents were hounding his tail.

He pulled up with his truck in front of the large office building. Parking in the back lot so as not to be seen, he turned off the engine and grabbed his revolver.

“Rexon International” he swore as he slammed the driver side door shut. “Should have known these bastards would get involved”.

As he approached the front door, the guard at the front desk eyed the newcomer briefly before noting the faded suit jacket and tie. Nodding him on towards the elevator in the back he returned to reading his magazine. But this wasn't Rob's goal. No, he had other plans. Heading for the elevator, he took a sharp turn off to the left and headed down into the stairwell. Moving down into the lower levels of the building, he entered the sub-basement storage area. But before he could barely get the door ajar he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. There was a security guard on duty just inside and, unlike his lazy compatriot, this one was fully vigilant.

Taking a deep breath, Rob burst through the door, drawing his revolver and training it on the guard. “Freeze!” he yelled, still standing in the doorway. “Don't move, I'm an FBI agent. Just cooperate and nobody gets hurt.”

“Alright sir, just calm down, I'll do what ever you want. Just take it easy,” the guard said, shaking visibly as he stood, hands in the air, behind his desk. He had received multiple training courses on how to handle these situations before. And the only thing that he could remember was to stay calm... Yeah, stay calm and hit the little red button under his desk with his knee. None of the other training came to him as he shakily marched down the hall. This tall stranger in the faded suit and tie trailing close behind with the revolver trained on his head.

“Don't be so damn shaky boy,” Rob said as he followed slowly behind the young man. “I ain't gonna hurt ya if you just stay quiet and do as I say.” He pushed the young man forward, gesturing him to hurry along. It wouldn't do to linger too long in one place. Not with agents on his tail.

The two soon arrived at the end of the long corridor, standing before a large blank door. On the right was a small touch pad. Rob pointed with his revolver. “Open that up, there, boy.” he said, indicating the touch pad again with his right hand. “And be quick about it, I got places to be!”.

The guard wasted no time opening the door, shaking even more violently than he had before. His seven digit security code did the trick and the door quietly clicked and slid open. On the other side stood a small table with a small yellow box in the center. The side with the handle held a small lock and a four button keypad. Rob, now with a satisfied smirk on his face, turned to the guard. “Thanks for all your help son, but this is as far as we go.”

The guard barely had a chance to look up as Rob cuffed him across the left temple, knocking him out cold. Stepping lightly over the still form of the guard, he proceeded to the small box on the table. Taking a brief moment to ensure it wasn't bugged, he snagged it up and dashed down the corridor.

He barely made it a third of the way back to the stairs before the alarm system went off. Skidding to a quick stop, Rob frantically looked around.”The stupid little shit pulled the alarm on me! Damn!” Even more frantic now he kicked open the nearest side door and jumped inside. Looking around, he flipped up the desk and filing cabinet near the back of the small room and crouched behind it. Heart pounding he trained his revolver at the only door in, waiting. He didn't have to wait long as it turned out, several figures darted past as they ran down the hallway. Believing that their target was still in the room at the far end.

Slowly, creeping his way over to the door, he nudged it open far enough to permit him a view of the hallway leading back down to the room he had just left. Sure enough, there stood four enemy agents, all gathered around the crumpled for of the guard. Letting out a slow breath he pulled open the door and began walking back up towards the stairs, sparing a brief glance back to make sure that nobody had noticed him yet.

Just as he was turning back around, he heard a gruff voice speak. “Hold it right there, Mr. Telrin.” Whirling around he found himself standing face to face with the largest man he had ever seen. He towered over him, pointing a large handgun level with his head. “Don t make a move sir. We have the place surrounded. We have been following you for a long time sir, ever since that theft in Aspen. You're wanted by a lot of people, sir. Just come quietly now”.

This was a dangerous situation and Rob couldn't deny his terror. He had only a couple options left. He could play along and hope to escape later, or he could risk a fast dash out the back door and hope that he could dodge any shots that were clearly aiming right for his head.

The large burly man wasn't about to wait for him to make a decision however. Brow furrowed, he started to lean down to grab Rob by the collar. Seeing his only opening, Rob acted. Throwing all his weight into the large man's upper legs, Rob struggled to destabilize his captor. Toppling over, the large man gave a loud yell as his head smacked against the gray floor tiles, weapon bouncing away down the hallway. Rob now running as fast as he could, dashed towards the stairs at the far end.

He made it to the stairway quickly, the sound of footfalls not far behind him. Racing up the stairs, he made it only five feet out of the door before he found himself face down on the floor. It was pretty much over now, there were two men on top of him. Another seven or eight men surrounded him, weapons trained on his body. The yellow case and his gun were torn from his grip by pairs of unseen hands. No matter how he struggled, the weight on his back didn't budge.

“We have you Mr. Telrin, just give it up. We have you with several counts of theft, burglary, larsceny and espionage. Just come quietly now and we won't have to do anything painful,” said a short man standing farther to the back of the group. He had a rather official bearing to him, with broad set shoulders and a small angular face. Yeah, this would be the head of field operations, he was finished.

It was a great many weeks later before the towns people of Bakersfield would learn exactly what happened at the headquarters of Rexon International. The news would announce that an older gentlemen who was wanted by the FBI and federal law enforcement had broken in and attempted to steal a top secret micro-processor. Believing himself to be a top ranking field agent with the FBI and CIA, he had stolen several other rare and top secret items from around the country, terrorizing numerous individuals along the way. What the public was pleased to hear was that he was undergoing intensive evaluation, with early reports describing him as a severely mentally unstable individual.

- The End

There is a wallpaper coming, but its slow. I have been pretty dried out on inspiration recently, so its just a matter of patience. Given enough time staring at snippets and other old bits of work, eventually something presents itself.

Also starting to work on a page full of random profile stock icons, for anyone that enjoys keeping a pile of those handy.