Chapter 1

"You're being reassigned." My boss said in his usual, condescending tone.

"I'm what?!" I exclaimed, a little worried.

"You'll be working in the field with a CIA agent. The details of the case are in the folder you received."

"But sir! I'm a behind the scenes type of person! I have no experience in the field."

"You're test say you're ready. After this you can go back to you normal work. You are dismissed."

I turned and left his office. I walked over to my desk and pulled out the manila folder I had found on my desk yesterday. I carefully slid it in my briefcase and pulled on my long overcoat. i took my hat of the hanger and nodded to my college.

"Leaving early?" he asked.

"Got to read up on my new case." I replied.

I rode the elevator up a couple of floors until I had reached ground level. I steppes out onto the busy streets of London and walked over to my black Mercedes Benz. The ride to my apartment was rather long, mainly because of the cluttered streets. When I finally arrived, I said hello to the land lady and hurried upstairs.

I hung my coat in my closet and threw my hat on the door knob. I sat down on the leather arm chair and pulled out the folder. I opened it and looked at all of the documents. Basically I was supposed to find the location of the Al Queda hideout and exterminate anyone there with the help of the American agent. I was to meet the American in two days time in Washington D.C. at 1800 Eastern Standard Time. He would take me to the CIA where I would be debriefed further on the case. Why couldn't I work with a cryptologist from the NSA!

I ran my hand through my blonde hair and got up to get ready for bed. I pulled on my stripped jammies. I brushed my teeth and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Blonde hair, green eyes, and as pale as fuck. I wonder what the American will be like. Hopefully they'll be intelligent and able to help me in the field.

…

I awoke to the screaming of my alarm clock. I got up and brewed a fresh pot of coffee before starting to pack. I only put the essentials in my small suitcase. Suits, shoes, hygiene materials, and socks. My briefcase was packed with the usual items. Laptop, case file, and gadgets undetectable by the airline security.

I dressed and then pulled on my coat and hat. I picked up my luggage and headed out to the street to hail a taxi. The ride to the airport wasn't that bad. There was still traffic, like always, but it wasn't as bad as yesterday.

I got through airport security with no problem and took a seat at the terminal. A man dressed in an all black suit walked over and sat down beside me.

"Another rainy day." He said nonchalantly.

"Yep. That's how it is in London." I replied.

He handed me an envelope before continuing.

"The American will arm you. I just have one last message from the boss."

"Thanks."

After that was said he got up and left. I will have to look at the envelope later. I don't want some civilian to see something they probably shouldn't. I probably knew what it said because I had to deliver these types of messages plenty of times before. That was the only field experience I had. I wonder how I passed the field agent test? My physical abilities are not top notch and I'm not a very good shot either (although I have been working on it).

"Flight 991 to Washington Regan International Airport is now boarding." said a voice over the intercom.

I guess that's my cue. I grabbed my briefcase and boarded the plane. Before anyone else could see me I read the letter I had gotten earlier.

Dear Arthur,

Good luck on your first field mission. I have full faith in you're ability to finish this case. Don't forget every tip I gave you back when you were training for the agency.

Sincerely,

Boss

Yeah, this is what I expected. He usually gives words of encouragement to an agent going on a new mission. I tucked the paper away in my brief case and drifted to sleep.

…

I awoke to the jolt of landing. Did I really sleep the whole flight? Oh well. When the plane had come to a complete stop I unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled out my briefcase from under the seat.

When I arrived in baggage claim, I notices a man around my age holding a sign with my name on it. He has dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that flitted around beneath black glasses. He was wearing a black suit and was looking very refined.

"Hello." I said to him.

"Hey man have you seen a dude named Arthur around." He replied.

I was dumbstruck. Was this the American agent I was supposed to meet up with? Maybe it's just part of his cover.

"I am Arthur." I said timidly.

"You are! Sweet! I already got your suitcase so let's hit the road"

He gestured to my bag sitting beside him.

"How did you know it was mine?" I asked.

"It has you're name on it."

"I guess so."

I followed him out to where a black Mercedes Benz, similar to mine, was running, ready for us to hop in and drive to god knows where. I got in on the passenger side and buckled in while the American put my suitcase in the back. When he got back in on the drivers side we were finally able to leave.

"I don't believe I know your name." I said to him after we had been driving for a while.

"My names Alfred." He replied, smiling as a way of holding out a hand to shake when he was driving. I smiled back.

After about an hour of driving we stopped at a steak house.

"What are we doing?" I asked.

"Eating. Man I'm starved!" he replied as e dragged me into the restaurant.

"But doesn't your agency want me over there?"

"Yeah. But at 0800 hours tomorrow."

"You're shitting me right?"

"Nope."

He turned and talked with the hostess and she led us to a table set for two. I sat down and looked at the menu. It was all so different from what I was used to. I must have been making a face because Alfred said "If you can't decide just go with the flank steak." I nodded. I guess I'm getting a flank steak.

The waitress came and got our orders. I ordered the flank steak. I lost track of all the crap Alfred got. Does he eat like this on a regular basis? Life as a field agent must be really taxing. When we got our food Alfred dug in and couldn't watch him eat. It was too disgusting. I decided I would listen to the conversation to young men were having behind me.

"You got the stuff?" I heard one say.

"Yeah. You got the money?" said the other.

"You bet. Give me the coke." I turned and out of the corner of my eye I saw the man closets to me pull out a plastic bag filled with a white powder. I leaned across the table and said to Alfred "Those guys are selling drugs. Isn't that illegal in this country?"

"It is. Here I'll call the police, you stall them." He replied.

"What?! I can't do that?"

"Consider it your first field agent lesson."

So he knows that I'm not really a field agent. I took a deep breath and turned towards the two men as Alfred's thumbs moved quickly over his mobile phone.

"Do either of you know 'The Boss'" I said (Yes, I did research on American drug dealers for a case).

"Yeah, I know him." said the one that was farthest from me.

"It's a shame about what happened to him. He was my main supplier for a long time. If I ever see the person that killed him I'm gonna rip 'em to shreds." said the closer man.

Yes, I had worked with the agent that assonated him.

"There are rumors that he is still living, but just in hiding." I said, knowing he was dead.

"Really. And how would you know this?" one of them said.

"I have my connections." I replied, which wasn't a total lie.

"I don't believe you." he said.

"Have you ever had any personal meetings with him?" I asked, knowing that "The Boss" didn't meet anyone in person.

"No." he replied.

"Then he could have never existed for all you know." I shot back.

He eyed me suspiciously. Then his attention turned to Alfred whom, I assume, had finished calling the police and was engrossed in his fatting meal.

"Who's you're buddy?" he asked.

"I'm none other than the one you seek." Alfred said coolly.

This was his cover, not that other goofy personality but I have to say, I liked the carefree personality better.

"What do you mean by the 'one I seek'" the man replied.

"I am none other than 'The Boss'"

"Prove it to me."

"On August 31st my messenger got you're order mixed up and therefore received not only you're rage, but mine"

The moment Alfred had finished his spectacular performance, the police burst in and the two men were arrested. During all the confusion Alfred paid the bill and the dragged me out of the restaurant and into his car.

"Good job!" he said as he held up a thumb.

"Thanks." I said.

I think Alfred and I could have a very healthy friendship someday.

We drove home in silence mainly because I was too tired to talk and Alfred was smart enough to notice that. Maybe he is a little bit intelligent.

When we arrived at Alfred's apartment (I think) he showed me to my bed and flung myself on it and fell asleep. Jet lag really slows you down. Oh well. I have a long day tomorrow.