Something Blown

  “The Secretary will see you now,” said the assistant and Devon rose to his feet.

            He entered the small office where the Secretary of Defense was sitting, waiting patiently for him.

  “You killed out only lead,” said the Sec. Def.

  “He wasn’t going to tell us anything,”

  “I would be the judge of that, had you not decided to splatter his brain matter all over the car,”

  “He deserved to die,”

  “I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation, Agent Drotsky. As long as you are working for me, you will follow my orders to the letter,”

  “Then I see a simple solution,” said Devon and he made to rise from his seat.

  “That would be unwise, Agent Drotsky. The CIA is the only thing standing between you and the FBI. If you were to leave I would have no choice but to tell them where you are,”

            Devon regarded the man for a moment, the upholstered his concealed firearm. It was a small calibre weapon constructed of steel alloy undetectable by metal detectors. He pointed the gun right at the Secretary of Defence’s head. Neither men dared to blink.

  “You can’t tell them if you’re dead,” said Devon.

  “And you cannot avenge Melisa if you are dead,”

  “I’m not planning on dying before I avenge her,”

  “No man plans on dying, Agent Drotsky, you should know that by now. But if you kill me, every CIA agent in this building will be one you in seconds. I’m betting that gun only holds five bullets, and the calibre isn’t nearly powerful enough to kill over any range but point blank,”

  “I could just take your weapon after I kill you. Besides, I used to work for the Agency. Nine times out of ten I had to assault my enemies with sticks and harsh language,”

  “Either way, it would be best for both of us if you do not pull that trigger,”

  “I’m not too sure about that. If I pull this trigger you’re dead and I’m free. If I don’t, you live but I’m not free,”

  “If I die, so does the CIA protection around you. The only reason the FBI think you’re still in Dubai is because of me, the only reason the CIA is protecting you is because of me,”

  “You think a bunch of suits scare me?”

  “They should, they haven’t forgotten about what you did,”

  “Neither have I,” said Devon and he lowered the gun. Reluctantly.

            Ian was seeing Laura and Safu off as they made their way to the VTOL which they would use to go to Stronghold Romulus. Since CNet had regained full control the Stronghold was starting to flourish once more, though soon they would have to man it.

  “Here,” said Ian and gave Laura a flash drive.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “A few dossiers. Most of the names on that list should be in the surrounding area, and they can be trusted. They used to help us back in the day,”

  “How do you know they can still be trusted?”

  “I don’t,”

            As the two agents made their way towards the VTOL, JR came running up from behind with a pack strapped to his back. Ian caught him by the collar as he came by and yanked him backwards. JR lost his balance and fell to the ground.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Ian asked.

  “I’m going to help them at Romulus,” said JR as he go to his feet.

  “Like hell you are, have you forgotten that you’re suspended until further notice?”

  “You said from active field duty!”

  “Until we have a human presence at Romulus, any excursions to that Stronghold will be considered active field duty,”

  “But-”

  “No buts, JR. You broke our trust and if it had been anyone else, I would have thrown you out on your ass. Until you prove yourself, you will not go anywhere,”

  “How the hell am I supposed to prove myself if I’m not allowed on assignments?”

  “You should have thought about that before you screwed us over,”

  “Can he at least say goodbye?” asked Laura, who had come up behind Ian without him hearing her.

  “Sure, but make it quick, you need to be out of here soon,” said Ian and he made his way back into the manse.

  “Now’s our chance,” said JR and he grabbed Laura by the arm and started running towards the VTOL, but Laura pulled free of his gip. “What’s wrong?”

  “You just proved Ian right,” she said disappointed and JR’s heart sank. He had never seen her look at him like she was looking at him, and he wished she never had. It was one thing for his best friend to be disappointed with him, though that had nearly killed him, but Laura…

  “But-”

  “Goodbye, JR. I’ll see you when we get back,” she said and walked past him towards the VTOL.

            Minutes after they had taken off, JR was still standing outside staring blankly at the sky.

  “So Ian thinks we need to document our time in the Agency?” said Devon as he spoke into the front camera on his phone.

            He was in a lavish apartment where the CIA had asked him to stay until they had new orders from the Sec. Def. In all honesty he was under arrest in the apartment, but at least Evelyn wasn’t staying with him.

  “He’s grown sentimental at his age, but I guess that’s what happens. I think Ed and Ian can handle our past in the Agency. Instead I’ll handle some of what had transpired after the Fall, at least the parts concerning me.

  “Apart from the Agency, I never really had a job I liked. I studied to become a network technician and did that for a year and a half but it wasn’t what I loved doing. I loved playing games but making a living out of that was difficult. Then I got drafted to the Agency.

  “I know what I said when I started this, so just bear with me. I loved what I did for the Agency. I loved the work we did, and I loved that I was good at it. When the Agency fell, I was lost. The job I had loved was gone and the two people that I had trusted with my life for five years were off on their own missions. So I found my own,”

  “Ah, Mister Dow, I’m glad you could make it,” said a Russian man as Devon entered the main hall of the mansion.

            Everyone was clad in exquisite evening drab, the men in suits and tuxedos and the women in dresses of varying length and coverage. Devon knew that the ball was just a cover for what was actually going on tonight. He’d been trailing this man for weeks, trying to gain his trust in whatever why he could. And the day before he made a break through when a few undercover policemen had tried to accost the Russian weapons dealer. Devon had killed them and gained the Russian’s trust.

  “You have a lovely home,” said Devon.

  “Ah, this, a hovel compared the castle back in the Mother land. Where is Misses Dow?”

  “Why have a wife when there are so many fine women out there that I could conquer?”

  “Ha, a man after my own heart!” said the Russian and slapped Devon on the shoulder, “but you cannot dance by yourself. Triska,” said the Russian and a scantily dressed red head walked towards the two of them. She wasn’t Devon’s usual type but tonight wasn’t going to end in sex anyway, so he played along. “Keep my friend here company. And by the end of the night I want to see the two of you at each other like only and American and a Russian can go at it!” he said and slapped Devon on the shoulder once more before he stalked off to mingle with the rest of the crowed.

            Hours later he came back to find Devon, who was fending off the drunken advances of Triska. The weapons dealer didn’t seem to notice, he asked Devon to follow him and he did as he was bid.

            The Russian lead him to a small back room where three other men were waiting for them. One was a Texan complete with cowboy hat and boots, one a large Russian with a bold head and a scar and the third a Haitian with dreadlocks.

  “So, gentlemen, we all know why we are here. You came to see my toys. Feast your eyes,” said the man and he pulled the cover off of the table to reveal a variety of weapons.

            The weapons were of designs Devon had never seen before, and he had seen a lot since he started working for the Agency. There were handguns with futuristic grips and barrels, sniper rifles with long heavy barrels larger than .50 calibre rifles, and assault rifles that looked like ramped up AK-47s.

            The Haitian was the first to inspect one of the assault rifle. Devon picked up one of the pistols and examined it.

  “You will not find finer weapons anywhere,”

  “There are no bullets,” observed the bold Russian.

  “What would you expect? You cannot sell loaded guns, your patrons might just shoot you and take both weapons and money,”

            At that, an explosion sounded from the front of the mansion followed by screams and gunfire. Devon saw the Haitian and the Texan reach for concealed weapons and instinctively reached for his own. The Texan fired first, killing the bold Russian.

            Devon shot the Haitian as he reached for something in his jacket pocket, then he turned on the Texan and shot him in the head as he shot at the weapons dealer, shouting something that started with a ‘F’ but the word was never completed.

            Devon walked over to the weapons dealer who was on the floor, covering behind a crate.

  “That is the second time you saved my life, friend,” said the Russian.

  “And the last, friend,” said Devon and he shot him in the head.

  “FBI, freeze!” shouted an agent as three men entered the room. Devon threw the gun to the side and lifted his hands into the air. The man that had shouted at him had bizarre grey-green eyes and a stare that made Devon feel as if he would never be happy again.

  “They never quite forgave me for killing two of their agents and killing the weapons dealer they had been working for three years.” Said Devon to the camera, “It’s not my fault I did in three weeks what they couldn’t in the three years they had,”