Can I have guns?
Mr. Smithers was already waiting for him. Alex entered the oddly shaped room, the room didn't look anything like something from James Bond: no scientists in lab coats wandering around or guns and cool gadgets hanging off the polished silver walls, the room was actually quite boring, with one window on the side, a door on the other, and a fat man in the middle.
"Long time no sees, Alex" the fat man shouted, even when they were only a table length away. "I really enjoy working with you, you know, all the teenage stuff"
"Nice to see you too, Mr. Smithers" the boy-who-needs-gadgets replied.
"This," Mr. Smithers picked up a yoyo, it was the same yoyo as the Strom Breakers incident "Is a harpoon yoyo, similar to last one, it'll released a high powered harpoon, it can penetrate thick surfaces and will stop and clamp itself tightly-up to fifteen kg load, plus and ultra-long length, a hundred meters it is, just pull twice to froze the wire."
The fat man seemed to be overwhelmed because he was speaking at a high pitch "And this," he picked up a black parker pen "Has an extra-lite microphone in it, just press the button three times and the bug will fly for fifteen meters anywhere you aim it."
"Cool!"
"You see this mobile? It's a laser cutter, three meters range, great for cutting through doors and handcuffs, but not powerful enough to kill anyone. Just capture video and, well, you know what should happens"
There was a long pause before anyone spoke.
"Can I have guns?" the spymaster already knew the answer but he couldn't resist his urge to ask.
"No, but I can give you something close," he grinned and held up another parker pen, this time blue. "Same idea as the other two, but this'll launch a stun needle, great for emergency combats, remember; there're only three needles in here so use it wisely. Good luck, Alex, not that you'll need it."
Once again, Alex was disappointed, he still can't hurt anyone. The teenager forced a smiled, he fare-welled the Smithers and left the room. He slowly entered the high-tech silver elevator; it had a purple carpet and a gold handle, quite luxurious.
That very elevator might very well lead him to his flying death.
Somewhere north of London, a man was piloting a dark blue bland new helicopter, the fastest and deadliest in the black market. He turned and shouted through the angry wind "We're in range!"
"Good!" Someone shouted back
Behind the pilot, sitting on the gunner seat, the gentleman pressed his little wicked red button and slowly grinned.
