Ian Rider: The Untold Story
The Mission
Ian Rider seemed an ordinary man. Roughly six foot, brown hair, brown eyes, a muscular stature. But appearance can tell very little. Ian Rider is a spy for a British agency known as MI6, a secret organization taking down terrorists, smugglers, and anyone else who tried with England. But, even though he was a spy, he was also a sort of a father, to a boy named Alex. Though technically his uncle, Alex's parents had died in a plane crash only months after his birth. So, Ian and Jack, the housekeeper and motherly figure of the family, took care of Alex. Ian always hated his double life. The fact that he couldn't tell Alex why he was always gone on "business trips", "vacations", or "visiting the family" was heartbreaking for him. But he had signed the Official Secrets Act and knew he could never break it. By telling Alex or Jack the truth, would put them into grave danger, and that couldn't happen. It wasn't that Ian hated his job. On the contrary, to have excitement and to serve his country was much better than some 9-5 job to pay the bills. He knew he was fortunate to have adrenaline still existent in his day to day life. But the secrecy of this pleasure was torturous. And every second with his nephew was golden, because he knew that one of the missions he went on, he wouldn't ever fly home.
So her I was walking into what appeared a bank, but was truly MI6's England headquarters. I walked over the threshold and watched the simplicity of it. A simple bank, a spy agency. I walked in, greeted the receptionist with a "Good Morning" and a nod, and walked through the doors of the elevator, climbing my way to a new mission. I exited the elevator onto one of the highest flows and entered Mr. Alan Blunt's office. Mr. Blunt was a monotonous, plain, gray tinted man, with bags permanently imbedded under his eyes. His personality was perfect, for no one ever suspected such an ordinary looking man to be the heady of a spy corporation. I walked into his office and saw Blunt doing what he always does, sifting through files. Whenever I, or anyone else walked in, he was doing this. But no one ever asked what the files contained, they knew better. Mr. Blunt didn't look up when I entered, he never did. Alan protruded a sort of confidence, but not in an arrogant way, that he could acknowledge you without physically showing it.
"Hello Ian," he said, still sifting through his new sack of files, as massive as always.
"Hello Alan."
"Well, you know why you're here. A new mission has come up. Take a seat." He gestured to the seat in which everyone who got a mission sat. I sat in the chair, while he sifted through his files, searching for mine. "Ah, here we are. Now your mission is stationed in Japan. Some underground drug dealing has been going on, which is normal, but its gotten out of hand. Pounds upon pounds worth of drugs are trading hands. Some of it is poisonous and killing tons of the dealers. The man in charge is called 'The Dealer'."
I smiled at this and said "Well, that's an original name. Wonder what he does." Blunt looked at me. His only sign of inner laughter was in his eyes. I didn't expect much, after all, I was talking to Alan. Nothing more needed to be said.
"Yes, well he's been dealing out tons of this poisoned drug and anyone who takes it within a day dies. The tricky thing is when put into any food or liquid, it's practically untraceable. It's colorless, odorless, doesn't bubble, so be careful of anything you eat or drink there. Here is your file. Your plane leaves Thursday at 7:00 am."
I took the file and opened it. Inside was everything needed. A fake passport, Driver's License, a Birth Certificate, and my new identity. "Okay, thank you sir." I shook his hand and began to leave.
Before exiting the door, Alan called like he always did with his plain, but firm voice, "Go down and see Smithers. He'll give you what you need."
I replied, "Will do," and left his office, into the elevator and down to see Smithers, reading the file, reading what lied ahead.