Author: Vikki
Rating: G
Disclaimer: The SMK characters and the Agency belong to Warner
Brothers, Shoot the Moon Productions, and a bunch of other folks more fortunate
than I am. I am merely borrowing them for fun without profit.
This story is mine, however, so please don't reproduce without my permission.
Summary: A short peek at one of Amanda's Agency training classes.
NOTE: There is no romance in this story. If you're looking for romance,
look elsewhere!!
Timeframe: This story takes place mid-forth season, after "No
Thanks for the Memory" but before "Do You Take This Spy." I don't
believe cannon is broken.
THANKS to Kara and Tricia for reviewing this for me!
****************************
Amanda King walked slowly down the narrow corridor toward the Chem Lab,
a slight frown furrowing her normally smooth brow. Something wasn't
quite right. She didn't know why, but warning bells were pealing
through her brain like shock waves. Something was definitely not
right.
As she walked, Amanda reviewed the events of the day, trying to determine
when this strange feeling had started. Not before she arrived
at the Agency. It had actually been an unusually calm morning:
Phillip had sat at the breakfast table daydreaming about his new girlfriend
and, for once, Jamie had been too wrapped up in the book he was reading
to taunt his brother. She left early, while the boys were still eating;
Mother had promised to get them off to school so that Amanda could get
ahead of the rush hour traffic. She smiled as she recalled Phillip's's
shocked face when she explained the reason for her early departure.
"You still have to take tests?" he had gasped in disbelief.
"At *your* age?" She almost wished she could have stayed to listen
to the lecture she was sure had followed Phillip's comment. Since
Mother had started flight school, she had been particularly eager to point
out - to anyone who would listen - that a person
was never too old to learn. Amanda was sure Mother had used her IFF
"film making" classes to good advantage this morning.
The trip into DC had been uneventful. She had used the quiet drive to
review her Agency training tapes, as last minute preparation for
today's test. Lee always laughed at her when she crammed for tests;
he said she already knew more about being a field agent than Effram Beaman
ever would. But she enjoyed her classes, and she really wanted to
do well. It was important to her to prove she was more than the great
Scarecrow's protege.
After arriving at work, she had spent a few minutes upstairs in the
Q Bureau, proof reading the report on the Korchak case. Lee hadn't
been there, of course. She knew he was spending the entire morning
at State, going over security details for an upcoming conference.
She had barely started reviewing her paperwork when the phone rang, and
Mrs Marsten patched Billy Melrose through. She had given him a cheery
"Good Morning, Sir" and had assured him that the Korchak report would be
on his desk by 9am, before she went to downstairs for her test. Surprisingly,
Billy had told her not to worry about the report, she could finish it later
this afternoon.
Amanda's brow furrowed a little further. Yesterday, Mr Melrose
had seemed quite put out about the Korchak report, and this morning he
had acted as though it was no big deal. Knowing how Mr Melrose felt
about timely reports, his attitude this morning had been a little odd.
Still, Amanda hadn't actually heard the warning bells until she arrived
at the classroom to see a hand-written sign on the door, informing the
agency candidates that their test had been canceled and that they should
report to the Chem Lab for a lecture and demonstration on Russian nerve
gases. Beaman hated postponing tests even more than Mr Melrose hated
late reports. And wouldn't Mr Melrose know that the test was canceled,
since the lecture was going to involve a guest speaker - who would
have been cleared through Mr Melrose? Further, she had
had quite a bit of first-hand experience with nerve gas. Certainly
enough experience for Mr Melrose to suggest that she skip the beginning
of the lecture in favor of the report, under normal circumstances.
*More* than a little odd, Amanda thought to herself as she made the final
turn toward the Chem Lab.
As she rounded the corner, another irregularity struck Amanda.
Jim Fisher and Dave Russert, two senior field agents, were loitering
at the end of the hall, just outside a men's restroom. 'What are
Fisher and Russert doing all the way down here?' Amanda wondered.
There was no reason they should be participating in the nerve gas lecture.
There was no reason, in fact, that they should be on this floor at all
on a Wednesday morning before 9am.
The warning bells pealed a little louder as Amanda pushed open the door
to the Chem Lab and looked around. Her gaze immediately settled on
Beaman, who was standing near the front of the room, looking extremely
irate. It obviously hadn't been his idea to cancel the test.
Of course, he also hadn't gotten over fact that he and two of his students
had been the "element of surprise" in an Agency invasion drill yesterday.
Especially the part where no one had warned him in advance before they
had been called up to the bullpen to walk in on the mock terrorist attack.
The word at the water cooler was that Beaman had been upset that both students
had been "killed" - and even more frustrated that he couldn't
give them any kind of negative mark since he had been "killed" as well.
Poor Beaman, thought Amanda compassionately. He was given the position
of training supervisor because of his teaching background, but sometimes
his lack of field experience made things tough for him. It
had to be embarrassing to be killed in front of two young men he was supposed
to be teaching to stay alive.
Suddenly, something clicked in Amanda's mind. The canceled test.
The unfamiliar class setting. Fisher and Russert. The invasion
drill. It only made sense to try a mock attack on the agency candidates,
to see how they would react in an emergency situation. And what better
time than when they were feeling relieved about the canceled test -
and bored by a chemistry lecture.
Amanda eyes swept the room to determine the best position in case of
a surprise attack. There were several heavy lab benches around the
perimeter, and about two dozen folding chairs set up in the middle.
Beaman was standing at the front of the room by a rather rickety looking
wooden desk. There was only one door, about fifteen feet to Beaman's
right. The room's light switches and an emergency alarm were just
inside the door, only about a foot away from one of the lab benches.
Amanda nonchalantly chose a folding chair as close as possible to the
light switches. As Beaman began calling the class to order and the
other agent candidates began sitting down, she surreptitiously slid her
chair closer to the cover of the heavy bench. Then she opened her
purse and felt around for a possible weapon. After a brief search,
she settled on a small perfume atomizer. She remembered using a can
of hair spray pretty effectively against an adversary on one of her first
cases with Lee. Perfume might work just as well if she could turn the lights
out. As long as there was more than one assailant, pitch darkness
would work to her advantage, since the intruders wouldn't be able to fire
their weapons without the risk of shooting each other.
It was a good thing that none of the trainees carried guns; a sneak
attack could get kind of dangerous if everyone in the room was armed.
Fishing around in her purse again, she pulled out a pencil sized flashlight.
There was no sense breaking her leg tripping over something in the dark,
if she could prevent it.
The room quieted down and Beaman started into a brief introduction of
Russian nerve gases, explaining that a world renowned chemist would be
along shortly to fill in the details. As Beaman droned on, Amanda
wondered with a slight smile if she was getting paranoid. She would
feel a little silly if she spent the entire lecture half hidden in the
shadows and nothing unusual happened.
As if on cue, the door to the Chem Lab burst open and two masked figures
charged into the room brandishing automatic weapons. Beaman jumped,
scattering the handful of papers he had been holding as one of the gunmen
grabbed him. From Beaman's eyes, it was apparent that he had not been forewarned
about today's attack any more than he had been forewarned about yesterday's.
As Amanda ducked behind the lab bench, the second intruder ordered
the class to remain seated. There were gasps and even a few shrieks,
before the gunman ordered everyone to be silent. The man's words were cut
off as the room plunged into darkness. "What the hell?" he
growled; then he gave a strangled "arrghhh" as he was enveloped in a cloud
of perfume that caused him to choke and drop his weapon. Ten seconds
later, a wide eyed Beaman was caught in the beam of Amanda's flashlight,
as she placed the muzzle of Russert's gun against Fisher's exposed back.
Ten seconds after that, the drill ended with an Agency security team pouring
through the door. "They weren't supposed to actually have nerve gas
in here, you know," Russert coughed as one of the security guards
helped him through the door. "I think I've been blinded." The guard
chuckled good-naturedly. "Maybe, but you sure do smell nice," he
quipped.
Beaman was picking up his scattered papers and glaring at Amanda when
Billy Melrose entered the room a few moments later. "Someone got
to the alarm really fast," Billy said as he smiled at the occupants
of the room. "How many casualties do we have?"
"None, sir" reported one of the security guards with a wide smile.
"Unless you count Russert. His wife will probably kill him unless
he finds someplace to take a shower before he goes home tonight.
Neither of our terrorists got a shot off, though. Mrs King disarmed
them both."
Billy turned a warm smile on Amanda, as Beaman erupted. "In my
opinion," he ranted, "it was totally unfair both to myself and to
the other candidates to inform Mrs King about this drill in advance
- especially since you didn't see fit to inform me."
"Just calm down. We didn't inform Amanda of anything," Billy stated
placatingly.
"Well then Stetson told her," argued Beaman sullenly.
"He couldn't have. He didn't know about it. Fisher, Russert
and I just made the plans this morning, and Scarecrow hasn't even been
in the building today, " Billy replied.
"Oh, well, in that case, Mrs King dealt with the situation quite,
ah, adequately," Beaman conceded, but he continued to scowl at Amanda.
Billy gave Amanda a conspiratorial wink before turning back to Beaman
with a barely suppressed smile. "This drill has put me in a bind.
Russert is supposed to go out on assignment with Francine this morning,
but I don't think he's going to be up to it. It's just a milk run,
but I don't want to send her out alone, and I'm really short-handed.
Do you think you could go? I'm afraid it will take most of the day."
Beaman's eyes brightened. "Well, since I assume we aren't going
to have a speaker today, I suppose I could clear my schedule," he replied
in a serious tone belied by the inane grin on his face. Turning to
his students, he added "You ladies and gentlemen can spend the rest of
the day reviewing for your Security Procedures test. Since you have
an extra day to prepare, I will expect high marks. I'll see you tomorrow,
9am, classroom A."
As Beaman happily trotted out the door behind Billy, he turned back
to Amanda. "Actually, that wasn't bad work Mrs King. Not bad
at all," he said with a patronizing smile.
Amanda bit her lip and choked back a chuckle. She was back on
Beaman's good side, but Francine was going to kill her. She decided
to go out over her lunch hour and buy a big box of gourmet chocolate.
The end
