Hey everyone!
I got this idea the other day, and i couldn't let it go.
This is my very first anything, so be nice to me please.
I really hope you enjoy, and if you do, please tell me!
Prolouge; the chase
It was a Friday night in the city. Signs where flashing, people where partying. It would have been like any other Friday night, if it wasn't for the five figures racing through the streets on their bikes, knocking over plenty of stuff in their way. The two in front, a big man wearing a scarf, and a much smaller, scary looking woman by his side, was obviously being chased by the three others, bullets flying through the air.
The persuaders was none other than secret agent 00 Jones and his team, a German self-proclaimed awesome albino known by the name Gilbert, and a blond Dane, Mathias, currently refusing to wear a helmet due to the fact that it would ruin his hairstyle.
"Khesesesese! Take this, commie bastards!" yelled the albino, firing several bullets at the Russians (and missing by far).
"Seriously Gil," laughed the Dane, "you shoot like you're drunk!"
"Who said I was sober!" the German yelled back, as one of his shots hit the woman's tire, sending her of the road. "I'll take her guys! Go after Ivan." He turned around, the two others right on the tail of their target.
Agent Alfred F. Jones grinned. Looked like they would finally set the head of the Russian mafia, Ivan Braginski, behind bars. Agent Jones, the hero off America, no, the hero of the world! He was so caught up in his own thoughts, that he didn't notice the little green object the Russian had just pulled from his pocket.
Luckily, Mathias had.
"Shit, Al, he's got a grenade!" he yelled, snapping the American out of his own thoughts just as the grenade hit, sending them both flying.
Alfred was only out for a couple of seconds, but when he regained consciousness Braginski had got away, and the street was in ruins. The dust was still settling around him, revealing a still figure laying in the ruble. Alfred turned white as he recognized his comrade.
"Mathias!" he yelled, running to the figure on the ground. "MATHIAS!" He fell to his knees next to his friend.
"Dude, stop screaming, my fucking head hurts." The Dane muttered opening his eyes, "Where's fucking Ivan?"
"Lost him." Answered the American, giving out a relieved sigh. If the Dane was bright enough to swear, there couldn't be anything serious wrong with him. "I'm calling headquarters."
"Tell them to bring beer!" Mathias said, sitting up and holding a hand to his leg, that by the looks of it was broken.
Alfred nodded with a grin, pressing a button on his watch to reveal a small screen.
"Agent Jones to headquarters," he spoke, suddenly getting nervous, "Calling commander Kirkland."
So here you go.
I will return!