1. You Don't Need Me?
A smartly dressed man in a suit, tie and wing tip shoes creped off the sidewalk and into a dark alley. His mannerisms made his profession obvious. (Though this was not the intended affect) Instead of walking he would slink and his beady eyes were constantly shifting from side to side as if he were watching an endless tennis match in his head, not to mention that his shoe was ringing. Yes, this man is a spy. A dedicated agent to the top-secret counter espionage organization known only as CONTROL.
He was now out of the river of people that continued to flow disorderly down the sidewalk. He swiftly ducked behind a trash bin and glanced around to make sure no one was following him. Once he was satisfied he reached down and slipped off his shoe that had been continuously buzzing for about two minutes. He unhinged the sole revealing a microchip wired to a small speaker, receiver and a tiny dialing mechanism. The shoe stopped ringing as he spoke into it.
"Maxwell Smart, agent 86 here." He said partly through his nose.
"Have you been able to catch sight of it yet?" Said a voice over the speaker.
"Just a minute, who is this?" Max asked suspiciously.
"This is the Chief! Who else would be calling you on your shoe?"
"Well," said Max scratching his chin thoughtfully. "You could be a telemarketer trying to sell me foot powder."
"SMART!"
"Alright," 86 said, jerking the shoe away from his head and putting a hand over his ringing ear. "So it's you. There's no need to get huffy Chief."
"Just answer my question." Said the voice through clenched teeth.
"What question?"
"Have you made visual contact with the suspect?!"
"No I haven't actually seen it but I've been following it closely." He quickly glanced at a tiny tracking device build into his watch. "It's directly below me right now."
"Well get down there with it!"
"But Chief, that's under the street. It's dirty down there and this is a new suit." The secret agent whined like a kid trying to get out of cleaning his room.
"Smart, this is a very important mission. In the last month five of our agents have been killed. The perpetrators have all been animals. And in each case the victim had information that would have been detrimental to KAOS."
"Ah, yes. KAOS the international organization of evil." Said agent Smart, confirming what he already knew as fact.
"In fact a cougar just killed 45 this mourning."
"45? Wow! And it did them all this mourning?"
There was a frustrated groan on the other end. "Not 45 agents Max. Agent 45!"
"Oh. How did it happen Chief?"
"You see, somehow KAOS has infiltrated CONTROL security. Recently every time we plan a raid on one of their hideouts or to break up a smuggling ring they are somehow tipped off. Well, this mourning 45 called in a panic and wanting backup immediately. He said that he had discovered how they are getting the information. He was about to tell us when the animal attacked him."
"Did he give you any clue of how they could be doing it Chief?"
"Sort of. We think the last thing he said may be a pointer. But he was out of breath, obviously running, so the words came out garbled. From all we can make out, his last words were 'tasty tidbits'. Then he screamed and the line went dead."
"…And apparently so did he." Max commented as he listened thoughtfully.
"Luckily agent 12 was in the area and he managed to place a tracking device on the animal."
"That's amazing! How did he manage to put a bug on a killer mountain lion?"
"With great difficulty." The Chief's voice began to get worried. "I should have filled you in later. You'd better get on with your pursuit before it gets out of range."
"Are you sure it's KAOS Chief? I mean maybe the animals are going on strike against secret agents."
"Max, hurry. And don't let it see you." He was getting more urgent.
"I mean really, Chief. How could a cat be involved in KAOS? Unless, of course it was dedicated to the subjugation of the entire free world. In that case it could be a possibility. But—"
"Max! Go on!"
"You sound annoyed, Chief. are you having problems? If you are the best thing to do is to talk about it and get it out of your system. Because if you just hold it inside—"
"SMART! Stop talking, hang up and tail that cat!" Shouted the voice. The Chief is an older man in his late fifty's. He's usually a very tolerant and mild person, but every time he has to deal with Maxwell Smart he gets irritable, not to mention a pounding headache.
"Tail the cat. That's a good one."
*Click *
"Okay, bye Chief." He said to the dial tone. Now he replaced the sole and slipped his shoe back on.
Once again he surveyed the alleyway to make sure there was no observers. Good, no one was following him. Or so he thought. Little did he know that just on the other side of the trash bin (out of his vision) crouched a beautiful statuesque brunette. She made no sound except the ever so soft rustle as a breeze caught her pastel blue trench coat. She twirled her short, dark brown hair as she awaited the man's next action.
His next study of the street wasn't for people; it was for a way to get under the pavement. He was rewarded with a large manhole cover in the middle of the alley. He marched deliberately over to it and with great effort lifted the cover off the opening. Agile as a rhinoceros walking a tightrope he lowered himself into the chasm and pulled the lid back into place, only getting his fingers smashed twice. He was now under the streets n the dark, dank city sewer. The only light that illuminated the gloomy passageway was the beams that shone from the drainage grating.
The woman, now satisfied that she could move without being seen by him, stood up and stretched. Once that was done she pulled out a petite powder case from her purse. As she opened it, it revealed itself not as a makeup case but a tracking mechanism similar to the one the man had in his watch. A tiny green line emitted from the center of where the mirror should have been. As the green line circled the lid of the powder case every time it went over a certain place a tiny red dot would appear. Little did the man know that the red dot represented him. She waited until the dot turned a corner before she pulled a crowbar out of her purse. She easily pried open the manhole cover and descended into its depths.
Max was now carefully edging along the catwalk beside the moat-like sewer waterway. As he strained his eyes in the darkness he could just make out a low fleeting shadow turn the corner ahead of him. He quickly tiptoed to the corner and nervously peeked around it. There it was, two hundred pounds of fur, fangs and muscle stalking silently away from him. He could see it now and therefore no longer needed his tracking watch, so he turned it off to preserve the batteries.
Just as he did so he heard a soft shuffling sound behind him. He whirled around. But all he saw was the seemingly endless maze of the city's underground watercourse. He shook his head. You must be hearing things. He thought to himself and continued his pursuit.
The woman held her breath until she was sure Max was on his way. That was close. He almost saw me. She thought, and she began to follow the spy once again.
To break the monotony as he continued to follow the mountain lion Maxwell Smart began to occupy his mine. His thoughts weren't very intelligent but they kept him busy. So here I am, creeping along a catwalk tailing a cat. CATwalk, TAIL a cat. He chuckled to himself at his little joke. Hearing the slight sound of Max's amusement the creature turned around and glared Max right in the eyes. Max's beady eyes widened in horror as he realized what he'd done. As the giant cat scornfully stared at him from a mere twenty five feet away Max imagined in his minds eye the puma taking a running leap and pinning him to the cold hard pavement. He thought of those teeth the size of penknives and needle sharp claws, then of those 45 agents. Or was it agent 45?
Anyway his mind went into self-preservation mode. Before agent 86 had any notion of what he was doing he reached into his suit coat and pulled out his 44 out of its holster. From there everything seemed to happen at light speed. The trigger was pulled. The once graceful feline toppled off the ledge and splashed into the murky water.
Max just stood there, his chest heaving and the shot still echoing off the cement walls. He stared in revered silence at the floating body of the creature. He was in complete disbelief of his own actions. The cat had not attacked him, though it probably would have had he not acted. It's not like I saved my life or anything. He thought. Maybe the cat didn't kill me but the Chief sure will.
"Max, are you alright?!" He heard a voice yell behind him. He whirled around, pistol still in hand.
"99!" He said in disbelief. "What are you trying to do give me a heart attack?" Then after a moments thought. "What are you doing here?"
The woman, agent 99 of CONTROL, answered. "The Chief said he was sure you would need back up sent me to follow you, but he told me to stay well behind. He thought two people following it directly would be more likely to make the puma suspicious." She looked down at the fallen creature and once again shouted. "Oh, Max how could you?! You weren't supposed to follow it that close!"
Max's ego was already in need of serious medical attention and now he was being told that he wasn't even trusted to perform a routine mission. And to think that the Chief had sent a girl agent to watch over him. "He did, did he? Well I'll have you know that I'm perfectly capable of handling my own cases. Thank you. And I sure don't need your help." Don't get Max wrong; he loves 99 with all he heart and soul. In fact she is his wife, he loves no one more. It's just at the moment he's going through one of those crisis when men feel their unappreciated, and sometimes things are said that aren't intended.
"You don't need any help do you? Look what you just did!" She pointed at the lifeless feline. "You would never get along without my help!" She cried. Now she was felling unneeded and unloved and was trying desperately to prove otherwise.
"I could do without you just fine. Remember I lived alone for years before you came into my life!" He shouted, meanwhile unintentionally firing his pistol into the sewage..
Tears began to trickle down Ninety-nine's cheeks. He had cut her to the heart. What he had said confirmed her worst fear. His love for her had died. It seemed like a hundred different emotions were exploding like missiles in her mind. She was angry at Max for even saying something like that, heartbroken that he felt that way, defensive because she felt that by his words he was insinuating that she had been a poor wife and ashamed because maybe he was right. She is known as the most controlled at CONTROL simply because only very few have ever seen 99 lose her temper. But no one can hold it in all of the time. Her words came out in a loud burst that seemed to be a cross between a scream and a sob. "Fine! I don't need you either!" She couldn't believe she said it. It wasn't true and she knew it. This was one of the few times in her whole life she'd actually yelled at anyone in blind rage and as soon as she had she felt ashamed of her actions but her anger for Max was still to hot to apologize.
These words hit him like a blast of icy air. He was about to make another cutting remark when he saw the rivers of tears flowing down her cheeks. Only now did he realize how much he'd hurt her. He knew it was something he'd said but he wasn't sure which comment it was that upset her. For a moment he tried to think it out. It couldn't be when I said I'd lived without her before I met her. She knew that. Maybe it was when I accused her of trying to give me a heart attack. I didn't mean it literally.
His face softened and he took an apologizing step toward her but she backed away. She quickly turned and ran to the next ladder and ascended.
"99, wait!" He called after her. "I'm sorry." But it was to late she had vanished to the streets above.
Max quietly climbed the closest ladder and pushed open the iron cover. He was now in another alleyway. He entered the flow of people and, with hands in pockets, slowly trudged in the general direction of CONTROL headquarters. He didn't want to take a taxi. He was too depressed to bother with the rude drivers.
After a few blocks of plodding his shoe began to ring once again; but this time he didn't bother to find a deserted side street. He just stepped into the nearest phone booth. It took him a little struggling with space before he was able to bend over far enough to reach his shoe. But in the end he finally slipped it off.
"Smart here." All the energy and pep had long gone from his voice.
"Where is the cat?" The voice on the other line was obviously speaking through clenched teeth.
"Uh." Max hesitated a moment before answering. "Well, that's kind of a funny story Chief. You see, I was following it and—"
"I know what you did to it. Where is the body?"
"It's still in the sewer."
"You mean you just left it there?" The Chief was on the verge of shouting again.
"Well, what did you want me to do, walk around 'DC with a 200 pound, slime-covered cougar carcass on my shoulders? Besides what would CONTROL do with a dead cat? It's not like you could sell the hide or anything. I mean with all the environmentalists around today. Not to mention it would smell like…well, you know."
"Not only could it have given us clues essential to the case but it had a million dollar tracking device on it!"
"How could it have given you any information? After all it's dead, and in that condition I don't think it would be up to talking."
"Get in here, 86, NOW!!" That said, the phone was promptly slammed onto the receiver making Smart's ears ring again.
"Coming." He said into the dead phone line. The Chief rarely called Max 86, but when he did Maxwell knew he was in big trouble. He stepped out of the booth before he put his shoe back on; as he did he noticed the man standing by the booth was staring at him.
"What were you doing?" The man asked with open eyes, shifting his gaze from Max to his shoe and then to the telephone booth.
"What's the matter with you?" Max asked, irritated at the stupid question. "Haven't you ever seen someone talk on the phone before?" He's gotten so use to using his shoe phone that he didn't realize what an uncommon spectacle it was. He stalked away leaving the man to gawk at someone else.
